Chapter Text
The falling didn’t stop when Sirius hit the ground. He kept sinking, unable to open his eyes, unable to judge the passage of time, until he awoke in a sterile white room. The lighting was so bright, especially compared to Knockturn, that he couldn’t make out more than one shape: a slender, tall, dark figure, almost a silhouette of a person, as he couldn’t make out any of the details.
“Sirius Black,” said a gravelly voice that seemed to come from both the figure and the walls. Sirius squinted again, but it was futile. His eyes just couldn’t adjust. “Sirius Black.” it uttered once again. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.” “Where?” He asked, hearing his own voice as if it were far away and underwater. “The veil.”
Before Sirius could respond, really before he could even finish listening, he was being pulled back into Knockturn Alley, hacking, coughing, and retching on all fours as if he’d drowned. The shambling woman was still there – or at least a much fuller, awake version of her – staring at Sirius with wide eyes, as far as he could tell with the tears in his. Without saying a thing, she cast red sparks into the sky and disapparated. There was a metallic taste in his mouth. Sirius’s vision began to darken, and he tried to scream as he felt himself going under again.
When he awoke, he thankfully was not in That Place again, but another sterile white room, though not nearly as bright as the first. He was joined by his family and a man he didn’t recognize wearing a healer’s robe. His mother was sitting perfectly still, his father standing and speaking to the healer, and Regulus had his hood pulled up almost over his eyes and was slouching in his seat. His neck still itched, and his head hurt and everything else had a dull ache. Sirius moved to sit up, but quickly decided against it. All eyes in the room snapped to him, his mother almost looking angry at him for waking up.
The healer cleared his throat. “Mr Black, I’m going to run a few tests and ask you a few questions. Do I have your consent?” Sirius nodded, though the motion made the headache he almost hadn’t noticed flare. The healer listened to Sirius’s heart, cast a few magical scans, and swabbed the bite on his neck, causing a white sharp pain to zip through him, before quickly rebandaging it. Sirius fought a flinch and inhaled through his teeth sharply. The healer put his wand away. “I have my hypotheses, Mr Black, but as we wait for test results, could you describe your attack to me?” Sirius looked down at his hands, still stained with blood. Could he? He tried to stutter out something about the woman, but only managed, “She- she bit me, I think. Fangs, and- and I left. I went Somewhere Else, but it wasn’t real. She woke me up, and she called for help? Why would she call for help?” Sirius sat helplessly as the healer just nodded and stuck his gloved hands in Sirius’s mouth, seemingly looking at his teeth.
Wasn’t there something they should be doing? Calling the aurors, or somebody? Where was the sense of urgency? For once, his father seemed to agree with him. The healer then retrieved the swab and cast a few spells on it, and as the reddish stain on it turned an inky black, Sirius felt his face fall. He was still hoping against hope that the woman had been just strung out on some sort of potion, but the results were clear even before the healer opened his mouth.
“Mr. Black, you have been infected with vampirism.” Sirius wanted desperately to react with outrage, to demand more tests, or even a cure. But it had been a long day, and he was just so tired, so he simply nodded. “Over the next few weeks you will experience some changes. You’ll grow fangs, and the shape of your mouth will change slightly. You’ll start to crave blood, I will provide you with a prescription. You may experience tooth loss. You will appear not to age. If you wish for a potion prescription that may allow you to age, though at a slower rate, I can refer you to a specialist apothecary.” Before Sirius could respond, his father was ushering him and everyone else out of the room. The healer protested, of course, until his father-
“Obliviate.” Sirius watched, dumbfounded as the tip of his father’s wand lit up blue with the spell and he led them all out of St. Mungo’s and to a spot where they disapparated, Sirius with their father and Regulus with their mother.
Sirius’s father sent him straight to his bedroom that night, and while Sirius fell asleep relatively fast, he found himself waking up often, with thoughts swimming around his head. When would his cravings start? Would he ever be himself again once they started? If he was still himself, did that mean James was right about werewolves? A selfish part of him wanted to focus on that social dilemma more than the more pressing personal issues. He had been ready to apologize to James for days, if he was being truthful. But now? He didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine talking to any of his friends again. Would he even be allowed to go back to Hogwarts?
Despite all this, it still didn’t feel real, and Sirius found himself forgetting and remembering each time he woke.
Early in the morning, a knock came at the door, followed by it opening a moment later. In stepped a strange man who had the same smarmy eyes as Mr Burke, carrying a well-worn leather healer’s bag. Behind him was Sirius’s father, who just stood in the doorway and watched.
“This is him?” asked the man, turning back towards Sirius’s father who gave him a nod. “Alright, kid. I’m Healer Hudson Burke.” That name rang a bell for Sirius, and not because of his family. Something in the Prophet, at least a few months back. “I’m here to guide you through the transformation process. See,” he sat at Sirius’s desk, sweeping a mess to the side, and started unloading supplies from his bag – potions, some sort of salve, bandages, and, strangely enough, a ring, “people think it’s just an instant thing. You pass out a human and” – he snapped his fingers – “wake up a bloodsucker. Really, the whole process lasts more than a week, and the adjustment period varies wildly.” He gestured by waving his hands around, almost dropping the phial he was holding. “Today, you’re probably feeling an upset stomach, nocturnal urges, and maybe some tooth pain. Good news, though, you can probably get another meal or two in before you stop being able to stomach solid food. Now.” He turned back towards Sirius, then followed his gaze to the doorway. “Orion, my good man. I’ll see you later to discuss payment.” He simply nodded again and walked away. Sirius could tell his father wasn’t exactly a fan of how energetic Healer Burke was, which was the first point in the healer’s favor as far as Sirius was concerned. Burke watched him leave and waited until he was down the stairs to turn back to Sirius. “It’s your turn now, kid. Tell me about yourself. I’m sure you have some questions to ask, too?” Sirius bit his thumbnail for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.
“I… hm.” He sighed. What was there to say? His life had changed forever. “When… When do I start to crave blood? When do I become dangerous?” Healer Burke laughed, a throaty chuckle that unnerved Sirius to his core. “With my help? Hopefully never. Unless you’re already dangerous, you won’t just attack people willy-nilly. Listen, there’s all sorts of information about dark creatures out there. I’m not gonna tell you you’re still toujours pur , or that you won’t be different psychologically. But you haven’t become some sort of killing machine. That’s all…” He lowered his voice just a bit, “it’s fear tactics, kid. Join us or die type shit from you-know-who. I’m not saying I don’t believe in the cause, but I’ve worked with werewolves, and I specialize in vampires. His attack dog ain’t vicious because of lycanthropy. I reckon he was a monster long before he got bit.” Sirius remembered hearing about you-know-who’s werewolf soldier, while eavesdropping on his parents and from the prophet’s reports on the war. But for the first time in nearly 18 hours, a bit of hope bloomed inside Sirius. He wasn’t going to lose himself, and he might even have something new in common with Remus, though he was still unsure about James’s theory. James- he had to write James.
“Now, first order of business, secrecy. I have potions and a glamor spell.” He held up a phial and a ring. “This,” he raised the phial, “Is a magnificent little potion we call the maturity mixture, which I happen to have helped create. You take this every day, you’ll age just like any kid.” Sirius looked at the shimmery brown-green potion, silently thanking the gods for it. “Now,” Burke startled Sirius as he returned to business, “the ring. You won’t need it yet, but your appearance is gonna change quite a bit over the next few days. Fangs, of course, but your skin will be a bit ashen, too, and your cheeks and eyes will sink just a bit.” Sirius wanted to grimace at that, but he knew it was far from the worst thing he’d deal with. “Now, that’s a lot of information for you to take in, so we don’t have to talk about diet today. I’m gonna tell your parents you need to rest, but most of the time today someone’s gonna be keeping you awake, either me or your house elf. We need you on a typical sleep schedule if you want to go back to Hogwarts. I’ll go get you something good to eat.”
With that, Sirius was alone with his thoughts again for a few minutes. He felt like he would go completely stir-crazy, despite having gone out just the day before. He started about ten times to draft a letter to James in his head, but what could he say? “I’m sorry, had to find out firsthand how wrong I was, because I’m a little shit”? He was thankful to be awakened from that thought process by Healer Burke returning with a plate of breakfast. Sausage, eggs on toast, and even a scone. He would’ve been thankful even if it weren’t his last meal. Again shaking himself away from those thoughts, he dug in. He had an eternity to process what had happened, after all. He’d never get sick again, and once he stopped taking the maturity mixture, he wouldn’t age. If the rumors were true, he’d even be resistant to certain types of magic.
One thing Sirius hadn’t expected to come with his transformation was rigorous training. Hudson, as he’d asked Sirius to call him, wanted to ensure he could never be found out, and that meant relearning how to be human at the same time he was learning how to be a vampire. Even before his fangs grew in – he’d lost his front teeth and could feel the sharp point beneath his gums when his tongue drew towards the empty spot, nauseating him less each time – Hudson had him working on wearing the glamor ring all the time, even as he slept. Apparently it wasn’t just his mouth, his skin had become ashen and his face more gaunt. Each morning, Sirius found himself increasingly avoiding the bathroom mirror, not wanting to see the flickery faux-reflection, but not finding himself ready to remove it either. He’d also become much more sensitive to the sun, both his skin and eyes hurting after a few minutes outside. For the first time, he was thankful for Hogwarts’s cloudiness.
The weeks of summer couldn’t pass quickly enough. Next, he had to drink blood – it tasted metallic and dirty, but he started to like it despite himself. It was pig’s blood, of course. Not as nutritious as human blood, but that just meant he had to drink more often. It’d be strange transitioning from three square meals to just a pint or so a day. Apparently he couldn’t starve to death, but if he didn’t drink he’d go into a sort of fugue state before falling into a coma. At school he’d have to make it look like he was eating, moving his food around and taking tastes of it, being sure not to swallow too many solids and avoid spicy or pungent things (to his surprise, that did indeed include garlic, it wasn’t just a muggle tale). At least he could still drink butterbeer and juice, not that they were of any nutritional value for him. That brought him some comfort, though his nights were still full of thoughts and even dreams of being found out in front of the whole school, or sometimes attacking his friends.
Then came the real training. After a few weeks, his eyesight had become fully adapted to the night, so he had to learn to navigate with weaker eyes without squinting constantly. Luckily, vampires had a special adaptation for that – Sirius’s other senses were heightened, albeit not as much as some other non-humans, and he even had a new one, thermosensation. Apparently snakes had it as well, almost an infrared sight for hunting, but harder to explain – in training, he didn’t know how exactly he knew Hudson was sneaking up on him, he just felt it. He couldn’t wait to use it in the dueling club.
He was almost glad not to have any free time – it kept his parents from asking questions and his mind from wandering. Still, as he laid awake at night, trying to coach his now-nocturnal brain into some sort of sleep, his thoughts drifted. To James, to Remus, and to that stranger he’d seen in Rook’s Books on the day of the attack. Not to mention the strange things he’d seen while unconscious. He could only do something about the first item on that list from his bed, but still he hesitated. Yes, he knew he was wrong, and that it was possible for Remus to be a werewolf, but still it gnawed at him. He just couldn’t picture it. And he certainly couldn’t concede to James’s comparison to his parents. He’d just wait until he saw his friends next.
As the summer waned, Sirius had to find more and more ways to occupy himself – chess, Talaria, and Grimmauld’s vast library became his escapes. He wasn’t allowed to leave the house, not after what his mother had taken to calling “that unfortunate incident.” He also saw his brother far less, apparently Regulus had friends now, and though Sirius avoided them to his best ability, he sometimes heard Barty Crouch Jr’s horrible laugh echoing downstairs. It was so strange – Regulus, who had always been quiet and seemed to like things that way, next to one of the most annoying Slytherins Sirius had had the displeasure of meeting. It was as if Regulus and Sirius hardly knew each other anymore, but perhaps that was for the best. Still, Sirius continued reading whatever he could get his hands on, though he often left books half-read, scattered about his room. He was dying to see his friends again, but at the same time, he didn’t know how he would face them. Between his blackout curtains and his staying in, Sirius’s summer passed faster than ever.