He had to get help in covering this up. Harry thought as quickly as he could. Professor McGonagall had a history of not believing him, so he didn't even want to try her. He quickly discounted the headmaster as well. He was certain he'd be expelled for attacking a teacher, even if it was unintentional and very deserved. Madam Pomfrey still didn't know what he was or that he was even a magical creature. Snape was his only hope. He really, really hated that thought.
The dementor took off at a run towards the dungeons and Snape's office, praying he was in there. Luckily, Harry caught a glimpse of long, black hair as he skidded to a stop in the Potions Professor's doorway. "I need help!" He gasped out, trying to catch his breath and clear the lightheadedness that was coming from his sickness.
Snape looked up, and to his credit, stood and grabbed his cloak to help, seeing that something must be really wrong. "What did you do?" Ok, well, he was still a git.
"Umbridge…I didn't mean to…" Harry gasped out and motioned back the way he came.
In two strides, Snape was at the door and grasping Harry's bleeding hand. "Blood," he commented simply as he held up the hand to get a better look.
"Yes, I'm bleeding, and it's probably infected, so please restrain yourself from eating me and help," Harry motioned with his other hand in frustration, not concerned at all about the vampire. He was certain in a fight between a dementor and a vampire the dementor would win every time.
Snape sneered at him. "I was only remarking that I smelled blood and you were injured. I take it you fed from Umbridge after she injured you. That looks like the work of a blood quill," he remarked with a strong wave of righteous anger sweeping over Harry that he was surprised to feel directed not at him but Umbridge.
Harry was stunned. How did Snape figure out what he was? "Er…how did you…Never mind. You need to help her," he pulled his injured hand out of Snape's grasp.
Snape grabbed a few potion vials from a shelf and swept out of the door behind a jogging Harry. Harry frowned, upset that he had to jog to keep up when Snape was only walking quickly. Jamie really was short. They reached the DADA classroom where Umbridge was still curled up on the floor crying.
Harry actually ran into Snape who had suddenly stopped and was studying the woman with a mask of indifference on his face. Harry distinctly felt confusion and worry coming from him though. "Sorry," Harry mumbled, but the man didn't even seem to notice.
Snape quickly waved his wand, casting a nonverbal spell. "She's not anemic," he remarked and put the vials he had picked up from his office in one of the pockets of his robe. "Why is she not anemic?" He turned and asked Harry with a raise of one eyebrow.
"Why would she be…? Er, I think if you just obliviate her and maybe give her some chocolate, she'll be fine. I've never tried a memory charm before and didn't want to chance turning her into Lockhart, as much as she may deserve it. Why would she be anemic?" Harry asked in confusion while he explained why he had gone to Snape for help.
The vampire studied him like a specimen he was deciding to use in a potion or not. "You are not a vampire?"
Harry's eyes widened, and he coughed in surprise. "You thought I was a vampire?!" He was beyond relieved the man was so far off base with his guess.
"Apparently you are not," Snape frowned sternly at the dementor in front of him. "Ok, Potter, now is the time I ask, and you answer. What exactly are you?"
Harry's eyes widened, and he coughed in surprise. "You thought I was a vampire?!" He was beyond relieved the man was so far off base with his guess.
"Apparently you are not," Snape frowned sternly at the dementor in front of him. "Ok, Potter, now is the time I ask, and you answer. What exactly are you?"
Harry looked between Snape, Umbridge, and the door, hoping for some means of escape. Trying to think clearly, he realized they needed to prioritize their actions. "Professor, this is more than a one-minute explanation," he almost pleaded with Snape to understand. "We should really handle Umbridge before she comes around and then we can talk about me. I'm positive, if you can obliviate the last hour from her memory, she should be fine. What I did was more mental than physical."
Snape frowned, he seemed to be trying to figure out what creature Harry was and coming up blank. "This is highly illegal, you know," he sneered in distaste (Harry wasn't sure if it was towards him or the professor) as he took a couple steps towards Umbridge.
"Says the former Death Eater," Harry mumbled under his breath, forgetting Snape had vampire hearing.
He tried to look apologetic when the man shot him a scathing look. "I could let you handle this on your own, you know," Snape raised an eyebrow in warning. "I'm sure you would cause a political nightmare though if I did leave it to you. Entitled, just like your father," Snape added on in his own mumble at the end.
Harry bit his tongue, feeling too sick to get into it with the greasy git at the moment. "Sorry," he said unapologetically.
The vampire ignored him and gave a flick of his wand, "Accio blood quills!" He called out. The one quill on the bloodstained student desk floated to him as well as a second quill from a drawer in Umbridge's desk. Snape put both in his pocket before turning to the blubbering woman on the floor. "Obliviate!" He cast as Umbridge became quiet and her eyes unfocused. "Your detention with Potter went as you expected. He left just before curfew and you cleaned everything up before retiring for the night." With a quick scourgify at the desk, Snape swept over to Harry and pushed him out of the classroom before Umbridge could come to.
"My office, now," the professor growled and continued to push Harry through the hallways.
"Why did you think I was a vampire, sir?" Harry asked as he stumbled along in front of his professor's graceful stride…that should have been a clue in itself that he wasn't a vampire.
"There are very few creatures you can be turned into and not born as, Potter," Snape scowled, obviously irritated that he was wrong. "Of the available options, vampire seemed the most fitting since light creatures have developed a distaste for you, though I have never seen the severe reaction you've been getting before. Also, you have been drawn to darker locations like Grimmauld and the dungeons. Though I am a born vampire, it is possible to be turned into one instead. I admit not everything fit, but I'm at a loss for what other creature you could be. I expect to be filled in completely momentarily."
"Er…ok," the dementor grumbled, really not looking forward to the impending conversation.
Harry was about ready to just give up on consciousness and pass out when they reached the Potion Professor's office in the dungeons once more. He figured he must look terrible because when the vampire rounded on him to demand answers, he instead paused and cast a diagnostic spell at the student. After the spell, Snape pushed Harry into an uncomfortable chair. Harry was getting sick and tired of being manhandled, as well as just plain sick and tired. Before he could protest though, Snape stood in front of him and took his hand in a quick jerk. "Healing first," he sneered as he intensely studied the infected writing on the swollen hand.
"Fine with me," Harry grumbled, really not wanting to ever get to having to explain what he was.
The Potions Master prodded the hand with his wand slightly, causing Harry to suck in a breath in a hiss of pain. "What have you been putting on it?" He asked clinically.
"Essence of Murtlap," Harry glared at him, not thinking the prodding was exactly necessary.
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