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Several hours later, Harry was awake again and semi aware, sitting at the kitchen table and staring blankly into his morning cup of blood. Nellie was still wrapped firmly around his neck, singing to herself in soft hisses.

'Nellie's got her puppy and puppy's got his Nellie and the sun is shining and Nellie is happy...'

'Nellie,' Harry hissed at her in annoyance.

Oblivious, she sang on. 'Because the sun is high and Nellie is safe and the scary girl is gone so Nellie is happy again...'

'Nellie,' he tried again.

'And Nellie wants a froggy or maybe a little bunny because she is hungry and-'

'Nellie, don't make me incinerate you!' Harry finally hissed loudly in anger.

The singing abruptly stopped.

'Puppy's a pyromaniac.'

His head hit the table with a dull thud. Once again, he questioned the wisdom of buying a completely mental snake.

"Rough morning?" Remus asked as he slipped into the seat to his left, Sirius taking the one to his right.

Tilting his head to the side, he stared blankly at the smiling werewolf for a moment. No one should be that cheerful in the morning, even if it was closer to lunch.

"Nellie's singing," he stated blandly, "and speaking of herself in the third person. She's been doing it for the past three hours and I'm becoming homicidal."

Their only response was to laugh.

Harry didn't find it funny.

As of last night, he was now officially in the second stage of a born vampire's maturation. The first started at age six when bloodlust first hit. Age ten brought an increased need for blood, greater sensitivity to sunlight and a desire to become nocturnal, even though it was unnecessary. Put simply, he was tired, wanted to sleep and his snake wouldn't shut the hell up.

The Curse of Fate, Chapter 15