Alteration (Book 3 of The Corruption Sequence)

Chapter 12. Starving

Harry did not stop backing away from Ron until he hit the wall where he slowly sank to the floor, breathing in short gasps as panic took away all rational though. Wrapping his arms around himself he curled into the smallest shape he could, head buried, and face hidden in shame. He had bitten Ron and he deserved anything he had coming. Dumbledore should just abandon him to the Ministry, he was a dark creature, and nothing was safe from him.

The recriminations flowed round and round his head, spiralling up and down, feeding his hatred of what he was. Loosing track of time and his surroundings his mind folded in on itself as instinct warred with horror for dominance. Ron would hate him, he had just killed the friendship that had held him together through so many things, and it was all his fault. They should lock him in Azkaban and throw away the key.

"Mr Potter," Snape's cool tones made it past his defences, but he could not seem to react.

If he did not move, he could not hurt anyone else he cared about.

"Is he alright?" Ron's concerned voice almost made an impression, but Harry decided it was wishful thinking.

"I believe, Mr Weasley," Snape replied evenly, "that Mr Potter is very far from alright. I believe you were instructed to leave."

"No bloody way," was Ron's emphatic response.

Now Harry knew he was hallucinating; he had hurt Ron, Ron must be long gone by now. A hand reached past his protective barrier of arms, and fingers fixed on his chin. He did not resist as he head was lifted. Blearily he stared straight ahead, aware of Snape looking at him critically, but with all his strength aimed at his internal struggle there was nothing left to let him interact.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" the figment of his imagination that was Ron, asked anxiously.

The snort from Snape indicated that he was unimpressed with the question.

"The pale yellow of the whites and the red streaks in the irises indicate vampire malnutrition," the Potions master explained none-the-less; "quite simply, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter is starving."

Harry would have been surprised if he had had the energy left to manage it.

"But I thought he was getting blood when he needed it," imaginary Ron sounded outraged.

"He was," Snape replied coolly, "obviously it was not enough."

The Potions master moved Harry's chin from one side to the other, Harry kept his eyes on the man in front of him.

"Mr Potter," Snape said firmly, "do you understand me?"

Harry could not let himself react, if he let himself move, he might do something else terrible and he could never allow that. All he could do was blink slowly and let his gaze stay on the dark eyes of the Potions master.

"Severus," the headmaster's voice entered the conversation, but Harry did not look away from his centre of attention, "can you ascertain the reason for Harry's predicament?"

"I cannot be certain, Headmaster," Snape replied evenly, "but I would conjecture that Mr Potter requires a live donor. Precious little is actually known about vampires and their habits and this reaction could be normal, or it may be the combination of creatures within him. In public vampires have been observed to drink blood like a human being would drink wine, but it does not appear to be sufficient to feed Mr Potter."

Harry found himself wanting to laugh at the rational conversation going on; he was evil, didn't they understand that? He had attacked his best friend, they should be preparing to lock him up forever, not talking about why.