So Bite Me, Already!

by Polydicta


Harry has been infected with a strange form of vampirism, and the expert called in is a vampire called Modoc.

Crossover with "My Best Friend is a Vampire", Kings Road Entertainment (1987)


All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.


So Bite Me, Already!


Harry woke up in the infirmary yet again.

"Harry! You're awake!"

"Hello, Hermione. What happened? And why is it so bright in here?"

She gave him a look.

"It's not bright, and you were attacked by something on the edge of the forest. You were bitten. Madam Pomfrey couldn't find any trace of venom or anything, we've just been waiting for you to wake up."

"Well, I feel like I've done the full fifteen rounds with Voldemort again right now."

Madam Pomfrey arrived.

"Mr Potter, you can go now. There doesn't appear to be any damage other than a small bite on your neck. Obviously whatever attacked you didn't like the way you taste."

"But why is everything so bright?"

She looked at him.

"Hmm, a touch of photophobia …"

She waved her wand.

"There doesn't seem to be anything amiss. You go to your dormitory and sleep, and come back if it hasn't improved by morning."

She smiled and saw him and Hermione out.


Morning arrived and the Head Girl woke the Head Boy.

"Morning, Harry!"

"Morning, Hermione … Aghhhhhh! Too bright!"

"Oh dear. Put your glasses on, Harry."

She picked up his glasses and cast a spell."

"Fulaginious minima. Try this, Harry."

"Ahhh. Nice lady. what was that spell?"

"Fulaginious, it makes things black, but this is only about half-black. I use it to darken my sunglasses for when I go on holiday with my parents, but it was invented for darkening surfaces so they don't reflect."

"That's loads better, thanks. I still can't see though. My eyes are all fuzzy still."

"Lets get you to Madam Pomfrey."


"Well, Mr Potter, it seems that you've traded your poor eyesight for photophobia. Now, if I change your lenses thus …"

She did something to Harry's glasses and handed them to him.

"Yes, thank you. Now all I have to do is to get rid of this smell and the noises."


"I can smell something. I guess it's just in my nose. A slightly, I don't know, metallic smell. Not altogether unpleasant. And I can hear things, thumps and stuff. I think it's just noises in my own head."

"It sounds like you may have banged your head wen you were attacked. Is it bad?"

"No, I'll persevere with it for a bit. It'll probably pass."

He smiled weakly.

"Very well, you can go. Miss Granger is waiting for you."


Breakfast was disconcerting. Harry thought everything tasted odd, but put it down to the smell in his nose. The sausages were unapproachable, the bacon was too strong and Harry ended up just eating fruit and tomato juice.

"Harry? You never drink tomato juice, and the red grapefruit, you told me it was against your religion!"

"Just fancied them today. They looked appetising. So did the sausages, until I smelt them." He pulled a face.


That evening, there was a Slug Club gathering. As Hermione emerged from her room, Harry suddenly realised that he could smell her. It was a warm, human smell, a mixture of female sweat, vanilla and, Harry realised, blood. He could have sworn he could hear her heartbeat.


They arrived in the dungeons. The vampire, Sanguini was there.

"Mr Potter, how wonderful to see you again. Are you quite well?"

"Um, Hi again. Good to see you as well. Pretty well, thanks, recovering from an accident yesterday though."

"Really? You look … an accident? Not an attack? You were bitten, surely?"

"Umm, well actually, now you mention it, yes. I've been suffering light sensitivity amongst other things."

"Ah, my dear boy, yes, I see. I have an idea that I know what your problem is. Has your sense of taste been affected, and smell; possibly hearing disturbances?"

Harry nodded.

"Quite so. I am possibly not the best person to discuss this with. I have an associate, Modoc Fuchs. Could I ask him to call on you? He is something of a specialist in the area."

"I would be most grateful."


Morning came and Harry was woken by Hermione once more. Harry was certain he could hear her heartbeat, and he could smell the musk of her body, a warm and inviting scent that …

Harry decided that a cold shower was the order of the day.

At breakfast Harry received a note to come to the Headmistress' office at nine, and to bring Miss Granger.

Harry had drunk a glass of tomato juice and eaten a couple of ruby oranges.


McGonagall's office, when they arrived, was occupied by the headmistress, Madam Pomfrey and a young man with a hawk nose and blond hair. He wore a pair of dark, wrap-around muggle sunglasses.

"Ah, Mr Potter. May I introduce myself. I am Modoc Fuchs. Master Sanguini asked me to visit you. I gather that you were bitten recently?"

Harry nodded.

"Do you remember anything about it?"

"Not really. I was walking in the shade of the trees on the very edge of the forest. I saw some movement and the next thing I remember was waking in the infirmary."

"May I see the scar?"

Harry pulled his collar open. There were two rows of round scars, two major puncture wounds and four smaller ones between in each row."

"Ah. So it is true. You have an aversion to light? I see you do. Your sense of smell seems to sense the odours of the people around you? You can hear some things better than others – quiet sounds, like a heartbeat?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes, and you find foods that are red more appetising? You feel a hunger for something in particular, but have no idea what?"

Harry nodded vigorously.

"Here, drink this. It is quite safe."

Fuchs handed Harry an earthenware pint bottle. It was slightly warm, Harry un-stoppered it and sniffed. His mouth watered embarrassingly. He downed the liquid in one long swallow.

Harry sighed and felt the tension go from him.

Then the horror of what he'd just done hit him. He knew the taste from having so many split lips. He'd just voraciously downed a pint of blood.

His legs went from under him. Fuchs caught him easily and led him to a chair.

"Let me explain, Harry. Yes, you have been infected with a form of vampirism, but it isn't as bad as it might seem. What you have just consumed was from a pig.

"Now, there are three types of vampirism. Drakulian Vampirism, Sanguinari's Haemotropia and Fuchs' Haemotropia. The first brings the most drastic life change, the victim being unable to function during daylight hours.

"Sanguinari's Haemotropia is identical in most respects to Fuchs' Haemotropia, except that it is a hereditary condition. Fuchs' Haemotropia is passed on the same as Drakulian Vampirism, through the, um, venomous bite of an infected person.

"Now, this doesn't mean that you have turned into an evil, blood-sucking monster that will turn to dust at the first hint of sunlight, nor does it mean you have to sleep in a coffin … unless your taste in beds runs that way. What it does mean is that you need a particular diet and you need to use a lot of sun-block, which any muggle pharmacy can supply. Factor 48 is the lowest you can risk in summer, and I suggest you develop a taste for broad-brimmed hats. Wrap-around sunglasses are a godsend.

"You may find that gloves are desirable. Your night vision will be crystal clear and you will need little sleep, though plenty of rest is important.

Harry was looking at him. Fuchs smiled.

"How old am I, Harry?"

Harry guessed. "About thirty, maybe?"

Fuchs simply said, "I celebrated my four hundred and sixty third birthday last month. I was bitten when I was eleven. I can tell you that an eighty year puberty really, really sucks. You will age, Harry, but at a rate of about one year for every twenty that you live.

"Such long life does leave you able to accumulate quite enormous wealth, the goblins love us as we tend to leave large amounts of cash lying about in vaults. Our needs are simple. We don't feel extremes of temperature the way humans do, we don't need artificial light very often, and food, well it's a by-product of muggle meat production. Just stay away from spicy stuff. Garlic simply doesn't go with the blood.

"You need to eat solid food, but you don't need much or often. Most of us tend to have our meals at holiday feasts.

"A word of warning. If you decide to marry, you will face a hard choice. You must be sure she is the one before turning her and then you'll live with her for a thousand years or more, or else you will watch her age and die. It is a terrible choice, Harry. If you need to make that choice, take your time, but don't take too long about it."

"Um, what about family? Am I able to have children? Am I undead?"

"The last first. Simply, you are not undead. If you suffer an injury, then you will either live and survive by healing, or you will die and regenerate, thus becoming an undead which isn't the end of the world. You are now very, very difficult to kill, I might add.

"While you live, you can have children. If your partner has not turned, then your children will not be vampires. If your partner has been turned, then there is as much as a twenty five percent chance that they will be.

"Oh, and there is a significant community of us in both the muggle and wizarding world. We keep ourselves private, but we are generally able to fit into society.

"One last thing, Harry, your magic will change. You will find yourself becoming much more powerful in some areas, and you will become particularly skilled with mind magic."

"Modoc, a personal question? How will I know that a particular woman is the one?"

He smiled. "Most humans smell like their blood, they will smell … appetising. The one, or more, for you will smell more, how should I put it … desirable. The one who will be right for you will attract you in ways that most humans don't. You will know her when you meet her."

Harry blushed. "I already met her."


Harry nodded. "Yes, she's in this room right now."

Suddenly, Harry's vision was completely obscured by a mane of brown hair. "Harry …."

He smiled and put his arms around her.

"Fancy living for a thousand years, 'Mione?"


Back in the Gryffindor tower, they were snuggled together on Harry's bed reading a book.

So You're a Vampire, written by Modoc Fuchs was an extremely informative text, including all of the legal and practical information they would need.

"Harry, are we going to start our family first, or are you going to turn me first?"

"What do you think, 'Mione? What do you want? Do you even want to live a thousand years?"

She snuggled closer and kissed him.

"I do if I can spend the time with you. I 'm not sure, but I think I …"

She paused.

"Harry, I want to be like you."

"Are you sure?"

She giggled. "I'm quite sure, just trust your nose."

He sniffed the air and blushed.

"Right, so bite me, already."