In the following week, Harry had strange nightmares, always with Snape. Snape and his pale, cadaverous face, approaching him, touching him with his expert hands, embracing him and... burying his sharp fangs in Harry's neck. Harry would wake up sweating cold and feeling a deep void in his soul. Afterwards, during the day, he couldn't stop thinking of him.

However, he only saw Snape again when classes began, one week later.

This term, Harry would be taking Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology - he had managed to achieve an 'O' in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and, surprisingly, in Potions; an 'E' in Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology.

The first Potions class was worse torture than ever. It was as if Snape and Harry were magnetised, as if there was a perceptible, touchable force field surrounding them.

His eyes seem to hypnotise me. It's like in the vampire novels; he attracts me by his mere presence. I must find out why it is so. That's not normal.

The second class was even worse: the fact that Harry already expected those reactions made them more intense. At the end of the class, Harry decided things could not go on like that. If what he imagined was true - and the research he had been doing in the library during that week had led him to think it was - maybe Snape could be... persuaded. The right word, thought Harry with a guilty conscience, would be "manipulated". After all, hadn't the Hat said that he had many Slytherin traits?

"You are a vampire," Harry declared, as soon as he could enter Snape's office and get rid of his invisibility cloak.

Surprise welled up in the depths of the black eyes for a brief instant. Then a sarcastic smile crossed the professor's lips. "This is a very old joke, and not amusing at all, Mr Potter."

"Codswallop. I am an idiot, but not that big an idiot. That fantasy... The blood... Do you know how many times I dreamed of you after that? And I dream I'm being transformed into a vampire too."

"You have seen me eating. You have seen me outdoors in the light of day many times. Even now, here, if you look at the mirror at your left, you will see my reflection."

"I don't care. I don't know how do you do these things, being a vampire, but I know that you are."

"So, there's nothing else to discuss, is there? Now get out."

"No!"

Snape grasped his shoulders firmly, about to drag him out, even if he had to use force to do it. But, as soon as he felt the teacher's hands over him, Harry threw himself into his arms. For a moment, Snape closed his eyes, unable to articulate one single word.

Finally, he could gather the strength to push the student away and to reprimand him, trying not to let himself be dominated by the mixed sensations and emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Potter! Have you gone mad?"

"Please..."

Snape pushed him into an armchair.

"Sit down and explain." Snape went to a cupboard and pulled out a Firewhisky bottle. He took two glasses and served the beverage. "Drink. Maybe you'll feel better." Then he sat on another armchair, at an angle from Harry's. "You are going through a difficult phase."

"Oh, don't tell me about teenagers and hormones, please!"

The professor's lips curved slightly, in a sneer. He refrained from mentioning the boy's propensity to systematically reject the expression of truth. After all, it wasn't the moment for a fight. First he had to make out what was passing through the boy's mind. "So, what's your explanation?"

"Er... You know, it's really difficult to explain. I never loved anyone. My parents must have loved me... I think so, because my mother died to save me. But I never knew them. I like my friends, but... the truth is I've never felt anything deeper for them. Even Sirius, I didn't really love him until... Only after he died I began to love him..."

"There's a name for it, Potter: necrophilia. You are a necrophiliac. You can love only the dead."

"All right, so I'm a necrophiliac. Now you can put a label on me and stock me among your nasty flasks. But how does it help me? What can I do?"

"Potter, it happens that I'm alive. I cannot give you what you want. If it is your desire, I can recommend you a graveyard..."

"Stop it! All this sarcasm won't get us anywhere, it will only make us waste time."

"At any rate, we are wasting our time. Your place is in St. Mungo's."

"Oh, sure. And yours? Where is the place for vampires?"

Snape hold his wand tightly, and Harry blanched.

"All right, forgive me," he murmured. "You make me lose it."

"For once and for all, boy: I'm not a vampire. If this was your romantic necrophiliac dream, you may as well forget it."

Harry lowered his eyes, clearly disappointed. Snape knew that he should send him away, that this was the best moment for that. But to see Harry Potter there, crestfallen, defeated, at his mercy... It was almost irresistible. "I have acquired a certain experience with regard to necrophiliacs," he whispered in a suggestive tone.

"I bet you have!"

"It is obvious that, since the human mind is an extremely complex component, we all, with no exception, have necrophiliac tendencies. However, in your case, I would be so bold as to say that the intensity of the tendencies that you are manifesting is not compatible with the mental structure of a Light wizard."

"Er... can you translate this for me, please?"

"Once again, I notice that my initial suspicion are confirmed. Dumbledore is wrong about you. You are not strictly a Light wizard."

"I'm not?"

"The greatest necrophiliac I have ever known - even you can guess - is the Dark Lord. I would risk to say that you manifest a necrophiliac potential similar to his, but at an embryonic state, spontaneous, not influenced by the Dark magic."

"Are you saying that I'm a Dark wizard?"

"Do not put words in my mouth. What I am saying is that you manifest strong tendencies to the dark arts. And don't make me say it again, Mr Potter."

"And so what? What should I do?"

"Soon you will have to choose the way that suits you best."

"Then it's black or white, nothing in between?"

"There are an infinite number of ways and nuances. Each one will choose his own. The choice will always be yours. But do not forget that one choice determines the next ones."

"There's no return?"

Snape sighed. "You can go back on your own steps, but there are certain marks that cannot be erased."

"But I... I don't want to follow Dumbledore's way. I don't trust him. He makes us his slaves. He forces you to keep spying for him. He's always treated me like a mere pawn in his game. He forced me to live with a Muggle family that despised the wizards. You know that. You saw it in the Occlumency lessons."

The professor nodded, staring at the student with deep curiosity. "And which way would you rather follow, I wonder?"

"I don't know! I wanted to be a vampire. I thought you were one of them. It would be perfect if you were!"

A dark eyebrow rose for an instant. But in no time the older wizard's features regained their inexpressiveness. "You don't have the least idea of what a vampire is, do you?"

"Oh, I wrote an essay for Lupin in my third year."

Snape snorted.

Harry went on, "And this week I've read everything I could find at the library. But there's a lot of contradictory information."

"This is not a joke, Potter. Needing blood every single night to survive. Having to live with the idea that you are a threat to the persons who live near you, that you may attack them and vampirise them. And have you ever imagined the loneliness, the isolation you feel when you know that you will live forever, and that you will see everything that surrounds you perish constantly?"

"That's how you feel, isn't it?"

"Don't speak nonsense!"

"If you were a vampire, and if you transformed me, we could be together."

For a brief second, Snape's chin dropped. "What... Are you raving? You are delirious, Potter! You'd better stop drinking that. You're not accustomed to Firewhisky."

"No, I'm not drunk. It's that I already feel as lonely as this vampire you're talking about. Nobody's in the same boat as I am, do you understand? Isn't there... uh... a potion that helps to control the vampirism symptoms, like the Wolfsbane for the werewolves?"

Severus got up suddenly and paced the sombre room. What was the boy talking about? Where had those ideas come from?

And Harry still went on. "If there was a potion like that, everything would be perfect. We would be immortals, and we would be able to control the symptoms. It would be the end of Voldemort. And we would have each other."

Snape tried to ignore the last part of Harry's speech. "Wolfsbane doesn't eliminate the symptoms; it only keeps the human mind conscious during the transformation." Snape arched an eyebrow. "Actually, the vampires are immortals, despite all the superstitions disseminated by the Christians saying otherwise. Nevertheless, there are ways to keep the vampire stuck in his animal form."

"So the vampires can really turn into bats? And there is a way to stop them from turning back to their human form?"

"Precisely."

"I wouldn't mind turning into a bat. It must be a wonderful sensation, to have all those new senses, and to be able to fly in the night skies, free..."

"Another romantic dream. You have no idea of the torture you must endure. When you transform, all your senses change in a short period of time. It's overwhelming."

"Aha! You talk like you know the subject very well... You lied to me. You ARE a vampire. Why don't you tell me? Why don't you give me a go?"

In that strange moment, everything seemed to acquire an element of unreality, of dream. Snape sat again on the armchair, less than a meter from Harry. His eyes were cloudy. "Wouldn't you feel repulsed by the presence of a creature like that?"

"No! Why do you say that? What's wrong with being a vampire?"

Snape lowered his head.

"Oh, I've gathered, all these Death Eaters' biases, this pure blood talk and all..." Harry had the distinct sensation he was making a typical Hermioneish speech. "They must think a vampire is an animal, a piece of trash. Do you believe in this crap?"

"It's not a question of believing or not. The prejudices are real. The Society imposes them on everyone."

"If you know this, why do you treat Lupin like that? Like he isn't a human being?"

Snape froze and glared daggers at him. "My relations with Lupin aren't in question."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned this. We were doing fine until now, weren't we? I want... I want to make a deal with you. Because, you know... if we had this potion, we would have the world under our thumbs!"

"'We'! What do you mean, 'we'?"

"You and I. You would give me immortality, and I would defeat Voldemort."

"You are insane, utterly insane!"

Harry got up and approached Snape's armchair. With a sudden movement, he sat on the older wizard's lap. Harry framed Severus's face between his hands and bent down to kiss him. Trembling, Snape grabbed him almost violently.

"Stop it! What do you want from me?"

"If you don't want, there's no need to use the shackles and the chains," answered Harry mischievously.

"It's not only that. It's this blood obsession of yours, that vampire tale..."

"Are you afraid that I might bite you?"

"You... wouldn't risk it, you wouldn't be so foolish, would you? If you have studied about vampires, you are aware that sometimes a single drop is sufficient to transform the person."

"So you're really a vampire! I knew it!"

"I was speaking hypothetically." Snape narrowed his eyes. "Anyway, you'd better go away. I would not participate in any little game of yours, do you understand?"

"What little game? What are you talking about? This is not a game to me. Now it's you who is being an idiot."

"I don't play mind games. Or mind-fucking, do you hear me?"

"Hmm?"

"And if the idea of making that stupid fantasy come true has passed through your foolish mind, you are very deluded."

"I've already said, there's no need to use the shackles."

The older wizard shook his head. "Also there won't be any blood involved in this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not healthy to shed human blood this way, Mr Potter! Furthermore, I can assure you that I do not possess any fangs to transform you."

"Oh, I've read that the Ministry of Magic has a surgical procedure to remove the fangs from the vampires that don't want to live in the so-called 'vampire territories'. But I don't believe you would let them do this to you. I think that you've invented a potion to get rid of all the vampiric traits."

"You have created a whole story about me, haven't you? Would you please explain to me, then, how would I be able to transform you, since I do not have fangs?"

"If you stop taking the potion for a while, probably all the physical traits will come back."

"And why would I do that? If a teacher transforms a student, he will not go to Azkaban, he will be taken straight to the Dementor's kiss!"

"And if I signed a paper saying that I did it of my own free will?"

"You have not reached the age of consent, this paper wouldn't have any legal value."

"But there's an easier way! I was forgetting: if I bite you, you cannot be blamed."

"It depends. Either way, I would be charged and there would be a trial. And the Ministry staff is not very fond of me."

"But I am Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. They will believe me."

"Will they believe that I was a helpless victim? Many bites might be necessary for your transformation; it might take a long time. It varies from person to person. How would we explain that?"

Harry laid his head on Snape's chest, and whispered, "You don't understand. You keep putting up obstacles, but you don't see the whole picture, you don't understand the depth of my offer. I want to be with you... forever."

An intense warmth spread through the older wizard. Struggling to suppress his emotions, Snape grabbed Harry's shoulders in a strong grip. "You don't know anything, boy. You are a child, and you are playing with fire." An emotion similar to panic reflected in the usually inexpressive eyes. "For you, this is just another fantasy."

"If it's a fantasy, it's one of those that last forever," answered Harry, solemnly.

Snape gave a bitter smile.

"You are sixteen. You don't understand that life is only a long sequence of fantasies, and that 'forever' is an... absurd word. When I was sixteen, even I thought that some things would last forever". Snape lifted his arm, showing the Dark Mark.

"It might be as you say, but all that you've lived through, all your past, even as a Death Eater, is part of you now. And I respect the person you are now. Maybe you did wrong to decide to act on your fantasy when you were 16, but at least you went after what you wanted. Afterwards, you had the courage and the strength to return and, well, even if what you chose when you were 16 was wrong, these choices made you a... a stronger, a more resourceful person. And because of that, you managed to save many lives and you learned things that might save further lives."

"A touching speech. Very moving. If that's your desire, I can introduce you to the Dark Lord as a volunteer to join his ranks. But don't involve me in your delirious plans."

"All right, so I won't bite you."

Harry brought the teacher's arm to his lips, and laid a kiss over the Dark Mark. Snape shuddered. Harry lay back against Snape's chest and began to caress it through the robe. It was tantalizing, and got worse when Harry's thumb found a nipple. Snape felt himself hardening under his touch. Then the boy searched the older wizard's lips once again, and this time they opened to greet him. Tightening his arms around Snape, Harry pressed against his body, resting his hands on the teacher's back, smoothing the skin. As Harry's eager tongue penetrated Snape's mouth, the kiss became a passionate and wild exploration, sweet and tender at the same time. The way the boy was kissing him, claiming his mouth with unquestioned assurance, oh, it was too much. Snape moaned and closed his eyes. They clung to each other, bodies moulding to the embrace in their discovery of one another. Snape tangled his fingers into the boy's unruly hair.

They could have spent an eternity like this, kissing and kissing while sensation conquered them in a rush and replaced every thought with exquisite need. With a soft moan, Harry played with Snape's tongue, sucking on it. Snape's heartbeat grew faster and faster. He began to caress the boy's hips and buttocks. A shiver ran through his spine: he couldn't get enough of the boy.

Finally, Harry tore his lips away and whispered, "Let's go to the sofa, okay?"

Snape let himself be led to the wide Victorian sofa. Then, reluctant, he stared at Harry gravely. "Have you... done this before?"

"What?"

Snape glared at him, exasperated.

Harry deemed it more prudent to answer. "No. Only in your fantasy."

Snape grimaced in despair. But Harry had begun to amuse himself opening the buttons of the teacher's robes. In the middle of this long process, Harry kissed him once more. This time, a tender, reverent kiss. Surprised, Snape returned the kiss with the same tenderness.

"Oh... How I hate you," murmured Harry, with glazed eyes.

That shattered the last shred of Snape's self control. He pulled the boy to him and captured his lips in a searing kiss. The clothes began to fall piece by piece, thrown everywhere. Damn the buttons! At some time, Harry's glasses also left the scene; none of them would be able to say precisely how. They didn't stop touching, nuzzling, kissing the entire time. Arms and legs intertwined. Suddenly, the whole length of their naked bodies melted together, all the way down, skin to skin, with no more clothes to separate them. Both moaned at the same time.