One day he cut his finger in my class, and blood ran down his hand. It was terribly disturbing. I held his finger to staunch the blood, but I couldn't take my eyes off it and, horror of horrors, I felt my nostrils dilating... The image is too hideous to describe. I know the external traits of a vampire are repulsive, and I have always tried to be discreet.

I saw comprehension dawning on him, and was surprised to notice that he didn't flinch. Furious, or trying to look as if I was, I sent him immediately to Pomfrey.

I imagined him telling his friends, their cruel laughs echoing through the halls. I also imagined a thousand revenges for their mocking.

However, none of this ever happened. Only one thing changed: he started to look at me differently. He would stare at me for unending minutes, and it wasn't just curiosity that flared in his eyes. There was something else, something I couldn't identify. Something that... attracted me to him with an instinctive, animal force. Those were precisely the feelings I could never indulge in.

Tonight, nonetheless, I met him in one of Hogwarts' dark corridors. He comes to me, carelessly, dangerously, and I can't resist.

I pull him to an abandoned classroom, and lock it magically. I shove him against a long wooden table, lift him up and lay him down up there, lying on top of him. He throws back his head, exposing to me the smooth skin, the tender flesh of his neck!

I feel my fangs sliding out. I lower my head abruptly and sink my fangs into the skin he dares to expose so eagerly.

He writhes and moans... first out of pain, I know, but now pain transmutes into pleasure, while I sate my thirst of centuries, plunging in his hot and burbling blood, feasting on it. My pleasure is so intense that my cock rises up, hard, engorged, throbbing. Harry feels it against his thigh, and becomes as hard as I am. He embraces me and presses his hips against mine.

"I want to be yours," he murmurs, and these words hit me with the force of an Imperius. I tear his clothes off, then mine. Casting a lubricant spell, I enter him in a smooth, deep thrust, while sinking my teeth into his chest, sucking him again.

He comes crying my name... It's the first time I hear him saying my name. My climax is the most intense I've ever experienced. It doesn't seem to end; my whole body pulsates, and my spirit is in bliss.

When the world is spinning on its usual axis again, I realise, horrified, what I have done, and I bury my face in my hands.

But he unveils my face, and brushes my lips with his.

"Severus, it's all right. I wanted you to transform me. I want to be yours, forever."

I know I deserve the tortures of hell, and not these words that, for someone who never received anything besides hate and rejection, sound too sweet. But I am weak, and I surrender to this ensnaring illusion. Even knowing the dreadful consequences for him.

The End