Unedited snippet from Chapter 23 of CiC
“So is this for homework?” Hermione asked, peering down at all the books Harry had spread about himself. He had picked his once favourite alcove in the library, right at the back and out of everyone else's eyeline. Or so he thought. There was a gaggle of sixth year girls he didn’t know who kept glancing over at him.
“...Something like that.” Harry said. Truthfully, without Quidditch and unable to sleep until very late at night, Harry had managed his homework load for once. He wasn’t really sure why he was doing it, just that it was more of a bother if he didn’t.
“It’s erm…” He trailed off, wondering how he was meant to explain as Hermione sat herself down and glanced at one of the books.
“Ghosts?” She questioned with open curiosity.
“When I was with Voldemort,” he purposely did not look at her. “There was a cellar. Mostly for potions but there was something else there. Someone.”
“Did…Did he kill them?” Hermione asked quietly and Harry nodded.
“But he’s stuck there. Not like the ghosts here at Hogwarts. He wasn’t even corporeal until I tried to touch him.”
Next to him, Hermione frowned.
“Maybe it’s because he was a vampire–”
“What?” Said Hermione sharply, leaning forward. “You should have led with that, Harry!”
Harry grumbled. “I was getting to that. Anyway, his name's Edward and he’s…” But he trailed off, wondering how much he should tell her.
“He’s what, Harry?” She asked quietly, her eyes flicking up to the rest of the library before returning to him.
“I said I would help him. That I’d at least get him out of the basement.”
“Well,” Hermione started, rummaging in her bag for parchment and ink. “If he’s stuck down there, he must be bound to something. I assume his death was horrific if he did it, but I wonder why he’d kill a fellow vampire? A territory dispute do you suppose?”
“Something like that.” Harry mumbled.
“There isn't much to go on,” Hermione said. “And besides,” she shuffled a little closer to him. Tommy stirred in his chest with a warning growl.
Harry pressed his knuckles against his sternum, and Hermione’s eyes flicked towards them before glancing back up at Harry.
“It’s not as if you’re ever going back to wherever he kept you…right?”
Harry pressed his lips into a tight thin line.
There was movement from the other table as one of the girls got to her feet and made her way over to them. It took Harry a moment to recognise her; Cho Chang from the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, a seeker and the only girl on the team.
“Hi Harry,” Cho smiled down at him and Harry blinked up at her, glancing at Hermione whose expression he couldn’t read, before looking back at the girl.
“...Hello.” He said quietly.
Cho lingered, not saying anything for a moment with her hands clasped behind her back as if she wasn’t quite sure where she should put them. Up close, Harry could see the faint tension in her smile, as if she was approaching a skittish animal.
“It’s Cho, I don’t know if you remember–”
He had remembered thinking Cho was pretty, but couldn’t differentiate the feeling in his stomach, at the time, between butterflies and his all-consuming hunger. At the memory, Tommy growled and Harry thought of a little snake wrapped tight around him.
“Oh, good.” She smiled brightly, her teeth straight but blunt. His thoughts drifted to Tom's sharp fangs and he swallowed.
“I hope I'm not interrupting,” she said, glancing at the spread of books. Behind her, the rest of her friends were giggling and whispering to themselves.
“We were just studying, weren’t we Harry?” Hermione said crisply, sliding one of Harry books closer to him, as if staking out territory. Voldemort used to leave all sorts of books littered around the house in uneven piles, knowing full well no one would dare move or touch them. Harry had toppled some of the piles just to see what his master would do…
“I–well.” Cho cleared her throat. “It’s nice to see you back at school. My boyfriend, Cedric–he graduated last year–he said the Daily Prophet is filled with nonsense. That we shouldn’t listen to any of their rubbish.”
Harry arched an eyebrow, wondering if she had been speaking to Angelina.
“That’s…nice of him.” Harry said, and he found that he meant it. Cho beamed at him and he found his eyes going to her neck. Her pulse point fluttered.
“He’s coming to see me in Hogsmeade in a few weeks and I thought–” She glanced back at the table for a moment to look at the giggling girls. One of them was very pink in the face and Harry frowned.
“–well if you’re not busy, you could come and meet up with him. Oh and Marietta as well. That’s my best friend.”
Next to him, Hermione made the oddest noise in her throat.
“She thought you might not want to be approached by strangers directly. Given…everything.”
“I’m not contagious,” Harry said before he could stop himself. Hermione did a very bad job of hiding her snort.
Cho blinked. “I–no, I didn’t mean–”
“It’s fine,” Harry muttered, rubbing at his chest. “I just–” He frowned. “I don’t really know why she would want to talk to me.” He said in honest bewilderment.
Cho hesitated, and then said very carefully. “She thinks you’re awfully brave after everything. And, well, she’s liked you for a while.”
Hermione’s head finally snapped up. “A while?”
Cho met her gaze, chin lifting a fraction. “Yes, a while.”
Harry stared at the table, suddenly very aware of the steady beat of his heart and Tommy prowling against it.
Harry had never really thought about girls, or even had the time to. When he did think about them, it was about the curve of their throats. But it was the same with boys, he supposed. Ron’s sister was pretty, wasn’t she? But beyond that…
The thought of Voldemort's breath ghosting his own neck had him swallowing, fingers pressed into the top of his thighs. It had always just been them, hadn’t it?
His sire. His master. His soul.
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