Plots and Prologues

A/N: Hey old and, hopefully, new readers. Nik0lai is at it again with a new fic, but bear with me. I am using this as a diversion from some of my other works to prevent burnout, as well as an response to the disappointingly low amount of Vampire!Harry stories on this website that meet my, admittedly high, expectations. Thus I am giving this a shot to hopefully inspire those writers much better than I to give it their effort as well. So without further ado, let's get this train wreck moving! This chapter will seem pretty rushed because I am feeling kind of lazy and want to get as much of the generalized and relatively boring backstory out of the way as quick as possible so we can all get to the good stuff. Rest assured, future chapters will be better about it and anything juicy will be revisited in one way or another.

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Language, Adult Situations, Drug Use, Thinking, and Serious Sirius jokes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other owned or written materials. All these belong to associated parties. Any similarities between whatever whatever da de da, so forth and so forth. You all get the idea.

My Darling Son,

We will never meet, but know that I love you more than anything on Earth. I am filled with a strange combination of swelling happiness and infinite sorrow, for while I may never get the chance to hold you in my arms or to see your eyes, I know for a fact that you will be the most beautiful creature to ever bless this planet.

But enough rambling from some silly woman you will never know. I am writing these letters (This is the first, but I'm sure there will be many others) for a very specific reason. I, too, grew up without one of my parents and I remember that my greatest wish for most of my life, until you came along, was to know what kind of person my birth father was like. I'm writing this, the day after I found out I was pregnant with you, so you know who your mother was firsthand. And that she loved you more than life itself. The last thing I will do is bring you into this world, and it will be my greatest accomplishment. I have no regrets.

Anyway,, enough of the sad stuff. Hello, gorgeous young man! My name is Lily Evans-Potter, and I was born in 1960 to Harry and Bridgett Evans. I started Hogwarts at the same time as your father, and after a few years of hating him, I finally fell in love with that berk, James.

Baby, I need you to do something for me, okay? Please, please, PLEASE don't resent your father for what he is. I know it is probably too late for me to do any good by asking this of you, by now you would have already made your decision, just know that I loved him despite who he is. I loved him because of who he is. I don't know what horror stories you've heard about vampires, but they aren't necessarily all true. Just like not all grown-ups are grown up (I'm looking at Sirius Black, your godfather, of course), Your father is one of the good ones. And better than any man as well, but if he were to know I said that his head would never fit into our home! You know, of course, that while a human woman can bear a vampire's child, the mother will not survive the ordeal. This is what has happened to me, and while it wasn't our intention for it to happen, I wouldn't take it back for the world. Don't hate your father for this, my son. He already hates himself, and if you were to condemn him for this, it would probably kill him. He's not taking it too well at the moment, I'm afraid.

Anyway, the child of such a coupling will be born a human of vampiric blood. Dhampir, is the word the Balkans gave them. You. While we're not sure what aspects of us you will get, I want you to remember that I love you no matter what! I know sometimes your father is disgusted with what he is. It wasn't his choice to become a vampire in the first place, just as it was not yours, so you have that in common. You are not a monster, my darling baby boy. Some, if they were to find out, would think you are. Maybe sometimes you might believe it yourself, but you aren't! You are what nature made you, and you are beautiful. You will have your curse, your cross to bear so to speak, but that doesn't make you any different from any of them. I love you, and your father loves you. And while Sirius hasn't been told yet, he will love you just as much. That is all that matters.

Your father has been a vampire since he was a young boy, and Sirius has known him since we all started Hogwarts together, so if you ever have doubts or are afraid or angry, just talk to one of them. Oh, what I would give to be able to do it myself. To hold you in my arms and brush back your hair or tears...

Sorry about the tears on the page, couldn't stop them quick enough! Anyway, I have to go, Baby. I'll write you again soon, though. God, I could write 'I love you' a thousand times and save t for you, but it will never be enough. You have no idea how much I wish I could see you grow into the fine young man I know you will be. No matter what you do with your life, know that I will be so SO proud of you. I can't wait to meet you, for as long as we have together.

I love you, my Harry.

- Lily Potter

P.S. I'll write again soon, but your father just finished cooking dinner, and I'm starving. I've been craving fish fingers and custard for a while now. I guess this explains it, huh!

XxXxXxX

- Back Alley Streets : Los Angeles, California, US Summer of 1995 -

XxXxXxX

Marcus cracked his neck to one side as he watched his latest mark shamble off into the night. That one had always made him a bit tense and tonight was no difference. Scrawny frame, missing and cracked teeth, scraggly hair that looked like it hadn't been washed for ten years and a stench that could wake the dead followed the man wherever he went. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't just change careers so he didn't have to cater to such a disgusting clientele. Still, he thought to himself as he counted out the wad of ten and five dollar bills the meth head had shoved into his hands, there were worse ways to make money. And hey, it sure as hell beat working for a living. He had watched his father throw his entire life away behind a shovel for a labor agency and what had the man had to show for it? A drinking problem and severe back pains until his heart gave out one day and he collapsed on the pavement. Fuck. That.

When he finished counting out the cash he added it to the roll in his leather jacket and checked his watch. Three thirteen in the morning, thank god the night was almost over. All he had to do was report back to his boss, turn in the roll minus his cut, and he could grab some take-out before heading back to his apartment. Off in the distance the lullaby of the city sang out with the soft pops of distance gunshots and the resulting whine of police sirens as they offered a token resistance to the dark deeds that plagued city life. Sure, it wasn't exactly what he had envisioned himself doing as a kid but once you got used to it, the life wasn't all that bad.

His attention was swiftly redirected when he heard footsteps coming up from behind him, and he turned as quickly as he could while remaining casual. About thirty feet down the filthy street, standing in the shifting shadows of a flickering streetlamp was the silhouette of a young man, but he couldn't make out any more details.

"Hey, you Marcus?" Judging from the tone of the voice, it was definitely some kid. Probably just a street punk buying for his gang.

"I'm closed, buddy. You should have showed up about twenty minutes ago. Better luck tomorrow."

His voice was hard and steady, but there was something strange about the guy that didn't sit right with him. Something deep in his gut twinged in fear, the same way it might when something shifts in the bushes outside your window in the middle of the night. The kid started walking towards him, out of the shroud of darkness and into the light, but just as the streetlamp was about to reveal his face, it flickered again. In the instant it took for it to come back on, the kid had shifted to the side just enough for his face to be hidden again.

"I said I'm closed, asshole. Go find someone else to bother, before I get pissed." To emphasize his point, Marcus reached into his jacket for where his handgun was tucked comfortably away, and laid his hand on its reassuring weight. The kid continued to ignore him though, still walking forward at a slow and steady pace. Despite the size difference between them and the likelihood that the kid had nothing more than a switchblade on him, if that, Marcus' heart was pounding in his throat and his palms were growing sweaty. There was something seriously wrong, and his instincts were telling him to either run or fight, but at least stop standing there. Whoever this kid was, he had him pinned with the dead end behind him and solid brick walls on either side. The only way out was at the kid's back.

"Does the name Mindy mean anything to you?" The figure's voice was still that cold and direct tone, and it had an accent that he couldn't recognize. He cocked an eyebrow in surprise at the question and his grip on the pistol relaxed a bit.

"No, why? She send you out here?" The figure had stopped and now he was standing with the light at his back, still flickering away, and it was doing its job in disorienting Marcus, who had to deal with the light in his eyes in order to keep track of the speaker.

"I guess you could say that. Mindy is the fifteen year old high school girl who came home yesterday afternoon to find her mom sprawled on her apartment floor, OD-ing on the heroin you sold her. She's in the hospital waiting room right now, praying to god that her mom will be okay. We both know she isn't going to make it, and that means by this time tomorrow little Mindy is going to be an orphan, spending what little of her childhood she has left as a ward of the state. All because of you."

Great, some justice-fuck out to make his life hard. Just what he needed on his way home. He relaxed his guard and took his hand out of his jacket, away from his holster.

"Look kid, sucks for little Mindy, but that's the way the world goes. Her mom made her choice and I make mine. I'm just earning a living like everyone else, that don't make me a monster okay?" This time it was Marcus who stepped forward, and the change in angle allowed him to see what he couldn't before. The kid's face was still covered in the shadow of a tilted-down baseball cap, but he was able to make out a pair of acid green eyes that seemed to glitter in the almost nonexistent light of the alleyway.

"Just doing what you have to do to survive, huh? That doesn't make you a monster?" The figure looked up, and now Marcus saw an unnatural flash of white from the boy's smirk. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The two had to have been standing at least twenty feet from each other, and yet he was able to clear the distance before Marcus even had time to pull the gun from his shoulder holster. His attacker collided with him with the force of a moving car, despite his smaller size, and took him to the ground easily. The last thing he felt was his head being jerked to the side by his hair, and an intense stabbing pain at the base of his neck, where it met the shoulder. As his strength faded and the world fell into darkness, Marcus thought he heard a soft sucking sound and a errant thought crossed his mind.

'The crazy bastard bit me...'

XxXxXxX

Harry leaned back from the now barely alive drug dealer, breathing heavily as he savored the flood of strength that always followed his feedings. Every muscle in his body lit up with heat and it felt like his blood was replaced with high-octane fuel. The taste of blood in his mouth and the delicious weight in his stomach brought him back to himself as the adrenaline started to fade. It was only then that he realized where he was. In the middle of a dirty alleyway, straddling the still warm body of some guy who he had just sucked the blood out of like a Popsicle stick. He stood up and rolled his shoulders, then wiped the dirt and gravel from his jeans. He had long since accepted his vampiric nature, the dark side of himself that demanded he drain the strength from the living, but it still disgusted him. While it was happening, while he was under the bloodlust, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world and he loved it. But as soon as the beast was sated and it returned to its slumber, he was left with the copper tang in his mouth and guilt of taking a life on his conscience. He had been told that over time he would learn to control his hunger and leave his victims alive without draining them of too much, but he had yet to learn that much self control. At least this way he was left with the satisfaction of knowing that he had removed one more scumbag from the world at the same time.

With practiced movements, Harry patted down the dead man's form and removed the holster and firearm, the fat wallet and roll of bills of varying sizes, and what few packets of drugs he hadn't managed to sell over the course of the night. Not a bad haul, all things considered. He tossed the drugs and now much lighter wallet at the feet of the man so the police would be able to identify the man by identification and profession, and pocketed the rest. Just like his mentor taught him, he stuck his head out from around the alley's corner and scanned the street, ensuring it was empty and he was guaranteed his privacy for what came next. With no one to catch him in the act, and the only evidence of his nature at his feet, the boy removed a plastic bottle of lighter fluid and a box of matches. Dousing the body and leaving a trail to the opening of the alley took only seconds, and by the time the inferno was roaring, he was gone. The night returned to its previous calmness as Marcus burned away to nothing but a pile of charred remains, leaving no trace of a vampire's passing. As it should be.

XxXxXxX

- Hilton Hotel : Los Angeles-

XxXxXxX

Harry James Potter, fifteen soon to be sixteen year old son of James and Lily made his way across the relatively empty foyer of one the most expensive hotels in the City of Angels. Standing at five foot eleven inches with cropped black hair, almost sickly pale skin, vibrant green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a muscular physique, the young man was far more attractive than average for boys his age, due to the nature of his birth. Born to a vampire father and a human mother, Harry couldn't be considered belonging to either race. From his very birth, he was different from any human alive. He was walking by three weeks of age, talking by nine, and by the time he was seven years old he appeared to be a fully matured seventeen year old, at which point he had ceased aging entirely. Yet he couldn't be thought of as a true vampire, either. Compared to one of full blood, he was laughably weak and unable to survive for himself. His senses, superhuman as they may be, were dulled by their standards and everything that made vampires as powerful as they were had been diluted by his mixed heritage. One of the few upsides to this, from the vampiric point of view at least, was his ability to walk in the daylight without immolating. Yet another thing that set him apart from even his half-blood brethren was his upbringing. Normally a half-blood was abandoned by his vampire father upon conception and his mother would die in childbirth, where they would then proceed to be isolated by both circumstance, superstition, and fear. Despite his mother dying upon his birth and his father following a year after at the hands of his murderers, Harry had been raised by those who knew his secrets and still loved him for who he was. Though to be fair, how appropriate it was for any child to be raised by his surrogate father could be debated. Not only that, but his surrogate father was old family friends with his mother and father, and was thus able to raise Harry into the inheritance he was born with. All things considered, there was very little Harry could complain about his life, even if he did hate the beast within him that drove him to consume the blood of the living about once every fortnight.

"Harry, there you are! I was starting to get worried. Did you step outside for a bite?"

Okay, so maybe there was one thing. Despite himself, he smiled at his Godfather's antics as the tall scraggly man snickered at his own joke. Sirius Black may not live up to either of his namesakes, but he could honestly say he loved the man like the father he had lost after only one year of memories, every one of which he could recall with perfect clarity, thanks again to his birthright. A responsible adult he may not be at all times, but he was easy to get along with and possibly the only reason Harry was as sane as he could claim to be. Though he doubted many people who had never met the man would appreciate the irony of that statement.

"Yeah, though I guess you could say the meal just... didn't agree with me. I don't think I will be eating there again."

Harry thought for a moment that he might have seen a flash of something sad behind Sirius' eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had come and his Godfather chortled loudly at the return jab. Standing at just slightly shorter than Harry but broader in the shoulders for it, Sirius was a stunningly handsome man in that 'bad boy' kind of way that made him so popular with the ladies. The long black duster, worn jeans, five o'clock shadow, and thick riding boots only reinforced the image, and the man was only too ready to encourage it. Something he brought up constantly with Harry, usually accompanied by queries as to when he was going to start putting himself out there.

"You've got a lot going for you Harry, and you could do with a few ways to blow off some steam. Trust me on this." was something Harry heard constantly, and he was beginning to wonder if his guardian had any ulterior motives of some kind. Or maybe he was just fishing for blackmail material? It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

"Alright Squirt, we've got our new assignment." Sirius said excitedly once he was standing within whispering range of his charge. He threw one broad arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him off in the direction of the elevator. "We've got reports from the big man upstairs that he has got his sights on another potential group of feral suckheads that need to be taken care of."

Here Sirius paused in the minor briefing to flash a smirk to a passing blonde with a cute... personality, before continuing after she had passed out of earshot.

"Dumbledore wants us to infiltrate the area, identify any possible targets, and report back to him once we have a list of suspects."

"Alright, and where is this place supposed to be? If we're answering to the Bearded-One, it has to be somewhere in Britain. Given the Voldemort situation I can't imagine it would be anywhere too far out of the way, and if he is calling us in for it, it is most likely somewhere with a decent population of Magicals. Which would narrow it down to either Diagon Alley or..."

He felt Sirius tense up from where they were touching, and he frowned. They, Sirius and Dumbledore, had been trying to convince him to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for close to five years now, and every time he had refused. He was a vampire hunter for crying out loud, he couldn't afford to be trapped in some kiddy school while innocent people, non-magicals even, were dying on the streets to a menace they didn't even know existed. It was wrong and one of the few subjects on which Harry wasn't willing to bow to his superiors' greater wisdom. They both understood why he was arguing, and to an extent agreed with him, but they both were under the impression that he would be able to do a far greater job if he was to accept the training he would be given were he to attend one of the most illustrious schools in Magical Britain.

"Oh for crying out loud, Sirius. There aren't any vampires in Hogwarts, are there? If there were, you would have dragged me there a long time ago, not only just come up with the idea. And stop calling me 'Squirt'!"

The elevator binged to announce their arrival on the penthouse floor and slid open to show the studio apartment that he and Sirius had rented for their two month stay in Los Angeles while they hunted down the various supernatural creatures that fed on the city's unknowing population. While vampires could be considered his personal specialty, he knew how to track, fight, and kill a wide variety of malevolent entities. Let alone the breadth of Sirius' experience. As soon as he saw the contents of their shared apartment, the boy groaned to himself. Sirius had already packed up their belongings, or had Kreacher do it no doubt, and they were sitting in suitcases right by the door waiting.

"Alright, Shortstuff, here's the deal." Sirius said, the humor as gone from his voice as it ever was. He was dead serious for possibly the third time in Harry's entire life. The first time being the death of his father, and the second was when he was convinced he had caught something from staying the night with a beautiful redhead who practically threw herself at him. So far both events had been scarring, though in very different ways. "Dumbledore and I have been trying to be nice about it for the last couple of years, and you have brought up a valid point. Dark creature activity has been going through the roof lately and it has been important that we have as many agents in the field as we could. But at this point it isn't looking like it will slow down any time soon. Dumbledore says his top agents have been able to locate what they believe to be the source of the activity and he is organizing his people to do something about it directly."

"Voldemort, right?" Sirius looked at Harry with a look of astonishment that he was really getting tired of seeing pointed at him.

"Yeah, actually. Right on target. So basically, Dumbles wants you to be trained up to be some kind of super soldier to fight behind the scenes and hit him where it hurts."

Harry shot a look at him, trying to judge if the man was just playing up to his admittedly large ego, or shooting straight with him. After a moments reflection and thinking over the facts, he came to his conclusion. Either they are serious, and this was big enough to possibly end this thing once and for all, or they were bullshitting him just to get him into the damned school, in which case he might as well go if only to get them off of his back about it. He waited a moment for Sirius to dig around in the refrigerator before he had his full attention again.

"Alright, assuming I am even going to agree to this..." Sirius' resulting grin told him that the man saw through his bullshit, and he was already planning on how to snag the window seat on the plane ride overseas. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing there? Other than hunting for vampires, apparently."

"Actually, here's the interesting part." The dark-haired man said as he collapsed on a cushy leather sofa with a beer in one hand and the remote to the massive TV in the other. "One, the whole vampire thing. Honestly, I have no idea if he means it or not. For all I know Hogwarts might as well be the underage blood bank of the world, so at the very least it bears looking into. Two, learning everything you can from everyone you can. Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, though you may as well be teaching that class yourself; Charms, Arithmancy, and the other basics. You will actually be attending more advanced classes than you would normally be because of what you already know as well as how fast you learn, so have fun with that. Third, Dumbledore wants you to look into helping out any of the students who are willing to learn from a more hands on source outside of classes. I'm told he wants to talk to you about that more personally and that I wasn't supposed to go into too much detail. Finally?" The man's eyes softened as he looked over the back of the couch at Harry again. "He, both of us actually, wants you to spend some time around people your own age. You've been playing grown up for so long, we both tend to forget how old you really are. There will come a time where you will look back and regret not having a real childhood, and having to have grown up so much so fast. Go, be a kid, get into trouble. Worry about homework, get caught making out with girls in the hallways, and sneak out of your dorm room in the middle of the night to steal food from the kitchens. Be a kid, Harry, for as long as you can. Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better, and neither of us want that for you. And before you argue, keep in mind, that this is an order. No more logical arguments and counter-points. You are going to attend Hogwarts for three years, you are going to have fun and prepare yourself and the other children for the war that is coming, and so help me God, you are going to bring honor to the name of the Marauders. You have a lot to live up to, Kiddo, and a lot of time to make up for. Do I make myself clear?"

With a roll of his eyes, Harry snapped to attention and shot him an American military salute.

"Sah, yes Sah!" Sirius held up his beer bottle in response, and Harry could hear the grin in his voice, despite the man cycling through channels in the search for something decent to watch on late night television.

"Excellent! Then get to bed, soldier. We have a plane to catch at ten in the morning. And for crying out loud, take a shower. You smell like a barbecue pit."

Harry left his Godfather to himself and headed back to his room to grab a change of clothes and a clean towel. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about being ordered to attend the Magical equivalent of high school, but one thing was for certain. Things were about to get a whole lot more boring than they were now. He just hoped he was going to be able to stay awake for the countless lectures that were no doubt coming his way.

A/N: Alright, so here's the deal. I've kind of burned out on the high level of seriousness and actioney-type stuff that is prevalent in everything else I am working on, and I am having problems working on anything fanfiction related in general. That is where this comes in. This fic is going to be an experiment in different styles, both humorous, horrific, and romantic. I am not going to make any major promises on where it is going to go exactly, but it could be just what I need to get back into the groove of writing again. So as always, leave a line or two to let me know what you think, what you would like to see, what to expect, any ideas on the potential pairings as spoiled in the character filters, and so forth. One thing I will say, is that I am seriously on the fence about the pairing. And yes, there will be a pairing. There will be tension between more than one possible suitor, I am just not sure where the end goal is going. I like to read multiple!girl fics, sure, but I don't know if I want to write one because of how unrealistic and how common they are. Then again, I am writing a fic about Harry being a half-blood vampire, so there goes any sense of realism anyway. So like I said, let me know what you think on the subject of multiple!girl fics. Even if I do end up going multiple girls, there will be no more than two. This I am not going to budge on. I want to keep it dramatic, and it is hard to do that with Harry bouncing around between four or five different girls at the same time.

Thanks for reading, and don't be a stranger!

- NikolaiCarpathia

P.S. - The title is still up for consideration, so if you have any ideas on a more appropriate substitute, I am happily open to suggestions. Cheers!