Gezz, it's been forever since i posted a story or a chapter. And for people who actually give a crap, not to the people who randomly found this story and are just skipping the 'AN' part. Don't lie, we all do it. I actually do apologize for that, A Lot of shit's been going on. I'm Not Dead, asking me that constantly is well...paradoxical.
Any way, here's my new story.
Years Ago
Sitting on the edge of a sidewalk, was a young, petite girl. She had incredible and inhumanly pale skin, she had luminescent red-slitted eyes, with blackish blue hair, with her hair being pulled into small pigtails on either side of her head.
She had her knees pressed against her chest, her chin resting on one of her knees. She sniffled to her herself, as the sun set, letting darkness cover the area. Sitting on a curb at the edge of the London Chinatown, an area that was left relatively alone since WWII.
"What are you doing?" A young male voice asked, causing the girl to tense, and turn, glaring at the direction the voice cane from.
"Nothing, Human. Leave me alone!" The girl said in a hissed out, looking at the eight year old boy next to her. He had a small frame, with messy black hair, green eyes, wire-frame glasses and large baggy clothes.
Harry glanced away with frowning slightly, glancing away. He didn't understand why everyone always reacted to him like that. His relatives didn't like him for seemingly no reason, he didn't have any friends, no one understood him. And he was beginning to think he was the problem. You can only go through all the stuff he went through without finding himself as the common denominator.
"I...I'm...What's your name?" Harry asked unsure, avoiding eye contact.
"Why would...you care?" The girl asked, and Harry could pick up a distinct accent, similar to that of an Asian-dialect.
"I'm…you just looked sad, and I wanted to see if you were alright." The boy admitted. "I've never seen you before, and I just wondered." Harry stated. He usually walked around the neighborhood to avoid Dudley and his Gang, so he was well acquainted with all the people that distrusted or ignored him.
"A Human want's to help me..." The pale girl muttered in incredulity, as she turned and her and gave Harry an almost demented glare, her red eyes gleaning maliciously. "…You wouldn't be so happy to help me, when you learn what I am." She informed.
"I don't care what you are..." Harry admitted, looking down, surprising the girl momentarily. "…I've always been the freak of my family, no one cares for me and I know, they make it obvious and clear. I hate it, I hate not knowing what I am, who I am, why they do the things they do. I hate the emotions it makes me experience." He said, having his hands in front of him, holding his shoulders nervously. "...I guess, I just...don't want someone else to feel like I do." He added.
The girl looked at Harry with some shock, before it vanished and she scowled at him. "You wouldn't say that, when you discover what I am." She stated.
"...Well, what are you then?" Harry asked curiously.
She gave him a sneer, showing her elongated canine teeth. "I'm a Vampire." She stated.
"Oh, well that's cool." Harry said with a shrug, now the girl's surprise was clearly readable on her face.
"...You...don't care?" She asked.
Harry turned and looked at her, staring into her glowing red slitted eyes, a bit memorized. "To be honest, things like that don't really matter to me." He admitted. "My name, I didn't know it until a year or so ago. My glasses, are scrounged together from scraps. My clothes, are trash, handed down by people who loathe me. I'm no one, I have nothing. Without parents, without anything. So things like you being a Vampire, and me being a Human, they hold no firm reality in my mind. There is only you, and me." He stated.
The girl stared at him with wide eyes, just staring at Harry. She was reminded of her sister, her recently dead, killed and butchered Vampire sister, who was skewered by humans. "Akua." the pale girl spoke.
"Huh?" Harry sounded.
"My name, it's Akua." She said quietly.
"Oh, I'm Harry?." Harry said with a small smile, as he held his hand out towards her. Akua's slitted eyes stared at the extended appendage, before she slowly reached out and grabbed it. "A pleasure to meet you." He added.
"...Thanks..." Akua muttered, a bit overwhelmed by the human's generosity.
After a moment Harry sat down next to the girl, who was almost six years older than he was, Akua being round fifteen at the moment. "So, why were you sad?" Harry asked, only to notice Akua tense up and hold her legs to her chest.
"Because...I...I don't want to talk about." Akua muttered sadly.
Harry tilted his head, looking around. "Oh, okay...Where do you live, where's your family?" He asked curiously.
"...I don't have a family...anymore." She admitted.
Harry looked at her unsure, not understanding what she was saying. Never experiencing the loss of a family, or someone he cared about, he couldn't empathize. "Well, do you have a home to go to? Whenever I'm upset, I go...there..." He said, turning his head, looking towards an old, run down house. "…I go home, when I'm there, things make a lot of sense." He admitted.
Akua looked at him and had a curious look, but it was masked quickly. "… I don't have a home, anymore. It was destroyed. My house, everything." She admitted, a tone of sadness in her voice.
Harry looked a bit confused, looking at her fully. She herself looked back at him. "'Home', is recognized patterns. Known spaces. Familiar thought processes of fellow peers. It is belonging. A 'house' is an amount of material. Wood, Stone, Dry-wall enclosures are not 'Home'." He stated, causing the vampire girl to blink a few times. "…Your home is where you are. Where you were is not relevant...Only where you choose to go with someone you care about." He admitted.
"I am sorry for what might've happened to you." Harry admitted, looking down and holding his knees to his chest. "I know what it's like, being alone, angry. I wish I could hurt the people who always hurt me, but I can't." He stated.
"...Why not?" Akua questioned, she herself held a large amount of power, being a master Assassin and S-Class Monster.
"What could I do..." Harry said, continuing to look down. "...But now, that doesn't matter to me at the moment. I just want to make sure you feel a bit better." He stated, causing the girl to lean her head back a bit in surprise.
After a moment, she tilted her head at him. "...You are a really strange person." She commented.
"Y-yeah...most people think that." Harry replied with a tone of sadness, glancing at the side.
"...I like it." Akua added, causing Harry to turn and look towards her.
"I like you, too." Harry stated, smiling a bit at her. He glanced around, and then at her body, and then up at her head. Just taking all of her visage in. He was short of breath every time he looked at her, her inhuman pale skin which reflected the moon light, her glowing crimson-slitted eyes, her blackish-blue hair in two adorable tiny side-pigtails. "...You're kinda strange as well.." He added in a lighthearted tone.
"I guess we're just a couple of strange people." Harry added, as he turned and looked up at the night sky, with Akua following too, looking at the star filled night.
Akua looked up at the endless sea of black, the hundreds of bright dots littering the sea. "…Why...why do humans hate so much?" She asked.
Harry glanced down. "I guess it's because it's the only thing we're good at." He said, causing the vampire girl to look at him.
"Do you hate?" She asked, and she noticed the younger boy had a guilty look on his face.
"Heh...do I hate?" Harry asked, mostly to himself. "...I hate everything. I hate my family, I hate their friends. I hate the place I have to return to every day. I hate the school I barely learn from. I hate the smell of the house I live at, it's emasculating, salty smell of the people I live with. I hate the feelings I feel. The burning desire to destroy everything that makes me so angry…I hate it all." He admitted, looking down sadly.
Akua looked at him, and she watched as he clenched his fists and slowly looked at her. "…I've read stories. People like me, i've read about them. They...T-they aren't the good guys. They're the villains. I don't want to hate, but...I can't stop." Harry admitted. He was never shown love, he was never shown any positive emotion, all he knew was the hate aimed at him.
"Hate everything, so, does that mean you hate me?" Akua questioned.
"No..." Harry admitted, looking at her. "…Everyone i've met, I felt...something from them. An intention. But you, when I saw you. I felt...myself. Angry at everything. I thought, if we became friends. We could help each other." He stated.
Akua glanced down in thought, curious and thoughtful at the same time. "Why does everyone hate you?" She questioned, she knew why everyone hated her. She was a vampire.
"I think It's because I'm different." Harry admitted.
Akua looked at him weirdly, not understanding what that meant. "...Why would you think that?" She questioned.
Harry glanced off. "...I can talk to snakes, they come to me when they need help. I can regrow parts of my body over night. I'm sometimes in one area, and then another in split moments. And sometimes when I concentrate hard, I can make some objects move...just by thinking." He explained.
'...A Sorcerer?' Akua thought, a bit surprised before she felt a bit relieved at Harry not being a complete human. "...You're not different, or strange." She reassured.
Harry sighed in relief. "It's just...I can't bring any of that up with my family. I can't ask questions, but I know that if I bring anything remotely out of the norm. They would want to stamp that weirdness out of me." He informed, getting a scowl from the vampire.
"You're not weird, Harry. They're the ones that are weird." Akua stated seriously.
Harry turned and gave her a smile. "I guess you and I, Akua, are the only normal people in this really weird world, right?" He asked.
"You can say that." Akua agreed, slowly relaxing, lettering her feet touch the ground and the knees move away from her chest, her posture changing from a sad and lonely girl, to a more open posture.
After a few minutes of silence, the two staring at the starry sky. Harry scooted closer towards the vampire girl, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, causing her to tense and glance at him.
"I don't really have a family, and...from what I can tell, you lost yours. I was hoping, maybe, you know, we could, possibly look after each other." Harry admitted, giving her a smile.
"...Like family?" Akua asked quietly, before she smiled slightly and reached out, wrapping her arm around Harry. "...I'd...like that." She muttered, before the two stared up at the night sky.
Years Later, Year One
"...I can't believe it." Harry said to himself, walking down the long, spanning halls of Hogwarts.
He was just heading to the Gryffindor Dorm-room. He had just recently tired to inform Professor McGonagall of his suspicions about Snape and the Philosophers Stone.
He trusted the wizarding professors, he trusted most of them at the very least, barring the Potions Teacher. But for them to so blatantly cast aside his suspicions without a second thought. He had no reason to lie, no reason to tell something so grandiose, if not for the right reason.
After the death of a close friend to a Troll, Harry tried to do her proud and learn as much as he could, in honor of her memory. And to a degree he held a similar outlook to the faculty of Hogwarts, but for them to think so little of his warning. So little of his opinion and his thoughts, it hurt. It was a betrayal of his superiors.
Year Two
Sniffling to himself, Harry was by himself, alone in the Gryffindor room, next to his bed. He was sitting on the floor, most of the place vacant.
The ground in front of him distorted, rippling like water, as a figure rose from the ground. Harry raised his head and saw the eighteen year old visage of his long-time vampire friend.
"Akua..." Harry said, the skin around his eyes red, his eyes themselves watery.
The vampire's eyes narrowed. "What is the matter?" She questioned seriously, kneeling down in front of the boy.
"...Everyone hates me again." Harry admitted, his tone dead. "Just days ago, I talked to a snake in front of everyone. Now...now they' think I'm some child psychopath ready to kill them." He said, looking down. "They think I'm a monster." He admitted.
"You are no monster." Akua stated, her crimson eyes compressed, and the area around her eyes darkening, giving her a demented appearance, showing how angry she was.
"I am." Harry admitted, sneering at the door and walls. "Everyone treats me the same. Either I'm some child everyone has impossibly high expectations for, or a pathetic waste of space." He said, thinking of all he had been through.
"I don't think this, my dearest." Akua said seriously, as she reached forward, putting her dainty hand on his shoulder.
Harry reached up and grabbed onto her hand, leaning his face against it, feeling the ice cold chill her skin held. "I've been betrayed by my teachers, I've been betrayed by my family, I've been betrayed by my peers. You're the only one who matters to me now...and forever." He stated.
The vampire girl blushed a bit. Being the kind of person who, when she connected with someone, it developed passed unhealthy points. She held unhealthy possessive and obsessive compulsions when it came to the person she cared about. So she wasn't put off by any statement he said.
"My dearest, even if you were a monster. If you turned into the most decrepit monster, killing left and right. Devouring all in your path, and from that same mouth you devoured everything, you would tell me 'I love you'. I would still say 'I love you' the same way I do know." Akua stated seriously, the twelve year old boy inhaled, closing his eyes and appreciating her words.
"These people who betrayed you, my dearest. What are their names, their appearances. Tell them to me, as so I can wipe their presence from this very planet." Akua said in a very ruthless and demented manner.
"No..." Harry said softly, looking down.
Akua looked angry. "Those pitiful beings hurt you, made you cry. I will not rest until each of them are eliminated." She stated.
"…No." He said, looking at her more seriously. "...I...want to do it." He admitted, surprising the vampire girl. "They betrayed me, everyone's betrayed me...except you. I am a creature of betrayals. They betrayed me, so I must betray them in turn. But now, I wait." He informed, getting an inquisitive look from the vampire girl.
"Right now, we are unseen. So now, we must remain hidden until the time is right – If not. Then any effort we put fort will be for nothing." Harry said, glancing off at the door of the room.
"But dearest..." Akua said, kneeling down in front off the sitting boy. "...I can easily fight them all, kill them all." She informed.
"It is true." Harry admitted. "But...i can't. I'm not you. I can't do any of the amazing things you can do. You are a powerful vampire. You can change form, summon things form you own power, become completely and utterly untouchable. And at the taste of my blood...you're revived anew. All of those things, you can go within a blink of an eye." He said seriously, and looked into the vampire's eyes. "...You must trust me. If I am exposed too soon, for what I am. Then this will be over before it even started." He stated, glancing away from her, knowing in the scheme of things, he was pretty weak. Compared to Dumbledore and Voldemort, and even most of the Professors outclassed him almost comically.
Akua looked down at her long-time friend, who she held an obsession towards and wanted to protect and please, any way possible. "You...want to be stronger?" She questioned.
"...I don't want to become a vampire." Harry stated almost instantly.
"What? No." Akua said, giving him a look. "...I know a technique, a fighting style. It's how i've gotten as far as I have. I want...I want you to learn it too." She informed seriously.
"You can't mean..." Harry started, but was silenced by Akua's smile, which showed her pointed vampire teen.
Year Three
Deep within the library of Hogwarts, a now teenage Harry sat by himself at a table, dozens, upon hundreds of magical books laid about and around him.
Harry's eyes scanned one of the open books, absorbing the information with a curious vigor. For almost a year and a half, since his 'turn', since he experienced everyone being so suspicious and distrustful of him, for betraying him. Since then, Harry was filled with questions.
After the disillusionment he experienced with his peers and his teachers, Harry became very self-reliant, manipulative, and wary of the intentions of others. He trusted only one at the moment, and at that moment, she wasn't around, so he had only himself. In fact, he hadn't seen Akua in a year or so, since the Christmas of Last year.
In the library, surging through the books, Harry wasn't looking for any spell, curse, or hex he could use. He found them pointless and childish. The fact that everyone could use them, anyone could potentially learn them, was abhorrent. Added the fact that anyone could, at the possibility of learning such spells, could also learn their weakness and counter.
No, he was going to make his own spells. But right now, what he was searching so zealously for, was Magic. He wanted to learn about Magic, what it was. Harry believed there was no superiority between 'Dark Magic' and 'Light Magic'.
Harry believed himself to be intelligent, knowing that his philosophy would be regarded as fanatical by both Light and Dark users. Hence the reason he stayed in the background, which was hard in it's own right, with everyone focusing on him all the time. He preferred to stay in the shadows at the time, not speaking out.
As he learned more and more about what Magic was, every question he had, led him to more and more questions, with only few unsatisfying answers. At the moment, out of all the information he could gather, he could only come up with two conclusions as to what 'Magic' was.
Magic was either a being, a sort of uncaring, insidious God that used the lives of the planet as pawns in a pernicious game of balance between 'Light and Dark'. This, he thought, was evidenced by the widespread occurrences of destruction and death that had persistently transpired throughout the world to that point, many of which could be traced to a conflict between Magic-Users.
The only other option was Magic in essence, was us, humans. It was the cultivated, amalgamated form off life's mark on the universe. Every person, every animal, every creature in the universe, the release in energy from someone's conception, to the wound and ripple in universe when someone died. All the combined energy from everyone's intertwining emotion, passion, life-death. All forming a sphere which held itself together, against the great and vast tide, known as the expanding universe. Magic was simply an energy force created by life-and-death, in an infinite cycle. That all the destruction created by magic-users was simply their human nature, to attack what is different, to feed on war and death.
Harry found both theories to be very possible, and both of them gave him similar goals. If Magic was the former, than in a sense it is the reason he's lived such a life. It's 'destiny' it planned for him, the destinies it planned for everyone. It it were the case, he would try to kill it, the being residing inside such a force, playing with everyone's lives.
If it was the later though, he would wish to harness such an energy, to master it entirely. But to do that though, he would need to immerse himself in both light and dark aspects of Magic. To truly absorb the power of magic, the life-force of a sentient being. He would have to learn how to sever their connection between Life and Magic, and absorb the power it causes.
Harry felt it before, when he let Akua feed on him, something he didn't mind to do. Feeling the affects of her draining his blood, the physical representation of his life-force. Even when he was younger, in Privet Drive, in the cupboard, in the darkness. Where he saw bugs, insects, rodents.
He had reached out with magic, being so hungry, so starved on a physical level by his family, and a physiological level by his family as well. Out of instinct he 'fed' on them, and their life-force, keeping himself alive in the process.
Harry saw it as something to perfect. Magic was, in both theories, an energy that flowed through all living things. And like energy, it may be harnessed, channeled, and consumed at times. It could even be a substance that could burn and ignite.
How he achieved such ability, though was simple in a sense. Instead of sending one's will through connections in Magic, creating a spell. That connection is drawn upon, fed upon, and drained completely. Since all life was touched by Magic, it's why such an ability is utterly terrifying.
But right now, Harry was immersing himself in the study of what Magic was. He would use it as he would use a poison, and in hopes of understanding It, he will learn how to fully manipulate it.
Year Three, End
At the edge of the Great Lake, Sirius Black, the Godfather of Harry Potter, and a notorious criminal was dead on the shore.
Above the massive lake, was an almost maelstrom of more then hundred of black cloaked creatures, all of them circling above the water. The water itself having frozen over due to the immense presence they projected. The creatures seemed to come out of darkness, yet create a blanket of darkness itself.
Standing next to Sirius, Harry stood, looking up the massive horde of Dementors. "Such annoying creatures." Harry said to himself, watching the horde of more than hundreds of Dementors circle around, hovering in the air.
Harry slowly took a breath, his eyes were narrowed heavily, almost into slits, as he faced the massive horde. He raised his hand and leveled it into the air, at the creatures.
He felt the Will of the Dementors, the chilling affect of their mere presence. He felt them reaching out, all of them trying to grasp at his emotions, his will, his soul. He grabbed onto their reach, and mirrored what they were trying to do.
"Nihilus." Harry muttered, using his own person spell, a unique word to link with the action and affect he wanted, allowing him to link it with an emotion, allowing him to fire off a more stable, and easily usable technique. Using a made up word, a combined form of Nihilist and Annihilate, 'Believes in Nothing' and 'Reduce to nonexistence'. It spoke about what the spell would do.
Harry's hand was engulfed in fiery red, crackling energy. A lance of energy shot forward, before it zipped around, changing direction a few times. As it moved, an electrical-distortion sound filed the air, before the lance of energy hit one of the Dementors.
A loud shriek came from the creature, as it's body was reduced to dust. In it's place though as a twisted mangled, black-white ball of spiritual energy. As the spiritual essence of the Dementors 'flew' towards Harry, the lance of fiery red energy split and divided, shooting out in multiple directions, the energy cutting into, and vaporizing the Dementors.
Dozens of shrieks and distorting-electrical sounds filled the air, as smaller tendrils of energy crackled along the frozen water. Every time a bolt of the draining energy destroyed a Dementor, the energy split apart into more tendrils of energy, until there was a volatile storm of the deadly force.
Slowly, the massive horde of Dementors were reduced to nothing, only glowing black-white, black-blue or black-green orbs of their spirit essence remained. Their physical bodies having been destroyed.
The hundreds of spiritual orbs retracted, drifting towards Harry, as he held his hand out. The tendrils of energy wrapping around the orbs, before he closed his hand, melding and pushing the spirits together, forming a singular mass.
The singular mass took the form of a mixture of pitch black, bright blue and dark red. Harry reached out and touched the mass of essence, and hummed curiously. He had already absorbed the magical energy of the Dementors, meaning what was in front of him, was the metaphysical remains. Their spirit, or at the very least the amalgamation of all the spirits and souls the Dementors devoured.
Souls were pretty powerful objects, immensely so. Being almost tiny suns comparatively. Harry hadn't mastered his ability of devouring magical energy, to the point of absorbing a soul. So he couldn't absorb what was in front of him, but he didn't want to pass up such a powerful source of energy. It would be a waste, a pitiful waste in his eyes.
"Let's see what I can..." Harry said, looking down at Sirius and then at the ground, next to him. He looked at his own shadow, and raised an eyebrow. "…Always with me." He stated, looking at his shadow. The thing that was always with him. Like a reflection on a Mirror, Shadows did hold a significance in the Magical World.
A Shadow is something everyone and everything has. In mythology, they were thought of as doppelgangers of the person that cast them, their Alter-Ego. In they world he lived in, Harry realized there was a sense of duality in the Magical World, for every action or object, there was an equal and opposite form of it. A person, the physical being Harry was, he was formed by his past, his memories, his ideals, which have formed him into what he is now. A shadow, in magical mythology, is a being that consists of all his characteristic, which he hasn't chosen to incorporate into himself. It was his dark, hidden, Alter-Self. Every option, every choice he hasn't or has yet to make. His shadow contained all of the unused aspects, or potentials of his personal evolution.
Harry looked at his shadow, looking inquisitive. He knelt down, putting a hand on his shadow, while his other hand was touching the combined spiritual essence of the hundreds of Dementors, as well as their victims. Sparks of fiery red energy crackled off of Harry's hand, as the energy connected with the spiritual essence.
He used the fiery tendrils energy, and tethered them to his shadow on the ground, pulling the two together, or for specifically the spiritual essence towards the shadow. As the spiritual essence was pressed against the shadow, the energy began to ripple and liquify, the spiritual essence slowly merging with the shadow. As it merged, the air around the shadow distorted and warbled, creating a distinct sound.
Eventually the two objects were melded together, with Harry kneeling over his shadow. Slowly Harry stood up looking down at his shadow. As he looked at his shadow, a pair of bright blue eyes opened, the eyes being where the eyes on a person would be.
"Hello." Harry said, looking at the shadow.
A loud cracking sound came from the shadow, as a mouth formed underneath the pair of eyes. Inside the mouth was a bright blue glow, similar to the eyes, with four pointed vampire-like teeth in the mouth.
"Hello..." The shadow replied, it's voice high-pitched and watery, like it was speaking through water. "…My Mast-aa." It added, saying the last part of the word in a whisper.
"Hmm..." Harry sounded, looking down at his animated shadow.
Before Year Four, Azkaban
A storm raged, water crashed against a stone surface of a tall-building. Thunder lanced across the dark sky, hitting the Prison, over and over, in the same area.
Within the area of the prison, A fourteen year old Harry was sitting by himself, in a cold and dark cell of the grim Azkaban prison. The long, drawn out, rattling breaths filled the air, as a Dementor drifted idle through the hallway. Frost formed along the walls and bars, with Harry scowling at the exit/entrance of the cell.
Harry looked down, scowling at himself. He remembered how he arrived in the situation he was in. He had freed Sirius, but realized his own arrogance now. Even he had to deal with the consciences. But after freeing his Godfather, he was confronted by Severus, Dumbledore and The Minster, Cornelius Fudge.
He was questioned, he was demanded, he was interrogated, literally…as apposed to figuratively. He would deny his involvement, but over a hundred missing Dementors wasn't something that could be swept under a rug. But to Harry's own shock, Dumbledore suggested Veritaserum. After a few moments, a few specific questions asked, and all was history as they say.
Harry brought his legs closer towards his chest, scowling and looking down, resting his face in his knees. 'It seems they never end…' He thought, remembering the betrayals that shaped his life. The betrayal of his family, them treating him like a freak. The betrayal of the faculty of Hogwarts, them turning their backs on him when he needed them the most, only for him to take the situation in his own hands and defeat the Dark Lord. The betrayal of all of his peers, when they turned on him, all of them thinking he was some psychopath trying to kill all the Muggle-borns and Half-Bloods. The betrayal of Peter, who sold his parents out, causing them to be killed and him to be in the situation he was in.
And now the Betrayal from his Government. The beings that were trusted to guard and protect their society. To keep them safe. The corruption was obvious, and he was paying the price.
Harry leaned his head back, pressing it against the stone wall, feeling the vibrations of the lightning crackling against the strong stone of Azkaban.
He closed his eyes and tried to see, with his eyes closed. He tried to feel the shifting currents in the world, to see through them.
Harry focused and let go at the same time, and felt the area around him. The darkness, cold and barren, of the Dementors gliding about the Prison. He took a breath and stretched out, and felt the rumble of the quaking sea a kilometer blew, the distant shake the waters had against the building's walls.
He took another breath, and guided himself further in his own mediation. He heard the distant breathing of the other criminals inside the buildings, as they hid in the darkness. Taking another breath, Harry listened deeper into the closest prisoner.
'...Master will come back. Soon, he will come back. He will come for me. He will kill everyone of this pathetic, fifthly creatures…' The voice of a raving woman thought. '...Master will come back…' It sounded, repeating.
Harry's eyes opened for a moment, a bit surprised. 'I heard a prisoner's surface thoughts…' He mused, but he frowned a bit. Everyone had their own magic, well to be more specific when a being is touched by magic, when it flows through them, that small bit turns and adjusts to that specific person. 'It would seem I can piggy-back off of someone else magic and slip into their mind for a time.' He thought.
But the question came up, being stuck here for the moment, was such listening in on the mind, enough to perceive the world around him? No, it wasn't. '...To listen to the thoughts of another, is almost like attempting to perceive the universe with only one sense.' He thought.
Harry took another breath and calmed himself. He was able to brush the surface thoughts of someone around him, perhaps he could do something more. After he calmed himself, he silenced his own thoughts, kept them still. He imagined himself in a room, filled with a thousand fountains, all the water flowing loudly, before the waters suddenly fell silent and still. He imagined a cold stillness, which formed around him, keeping everything still.
And then he stretched out, feeling the prison around him. He stripped away the hard stone of the building, and saw the souls and minds of the people that filled it's corridors. With more thoughts, dreams, and worries than can fill the space of the prison.
The raving and rambling thoughts of an insane witch repeated itself over and over again. Followed by more, by hundreds of equally insane trains of thoughts.
'I can't believe Dumbledore wants us to keep The Boy-Who-Live here. What the hell is he thinking?' Came the thought of a male guard, near the center of the facility. 'He says something about unlocking some hidden potential. I don't get it.' The thought continued.
All the thoughts blended together, causing Harry to take another breath, perceiving everything at once. Harry heard a rippling hum in the background, but chose to ignore it as he processed all the thoughts.
'...Do you hear me…' Harry thought, transmitting that thought along, to all he was perceiving. And then there was pure silence for a few moments, before everyone, in every cell started yelling in fear, that someone was in their minds.
Harry leaned his head back, before he looked up at the tiny window to the cell, with the rain falling like crazy, water dripped through the hole. As he watched the water fall, his face became melancholic, being reminded of Akua. Her name being the equivalent of Aqua, in the English language.
He hadn't seen her for almost two years now, causing him to frown. He glanced down and then looked at the water, before he leaned back and closed his eyes, taking a breath and focusing. He centered himself, listening to the currents of Magic around the world.
"...Akua...Shuzen..." He muttered, pronouncing her name perfectly. How she always pronounced it, even with her Chinese dialect. He didn't know much about Akua's family tree, but he did know her father was Japanese and her mother was Chinese, she herself being raised in China.
All beings have a name and a 'Name'. Anytime anyone says your name it touches you, but when Wizard, or a supernatural being, says your Name, and means it, the effect is amplified a thousandfold. Having a persons' name, they get a direct conduit to the person. A magical link can be created by associating yourself to it in a magical sense, in a similar way that you would if you had; hair, nail clippings, or blood. You have to know exactly how to say the name, just knowing it wasn't good enough.
But Harry knew Akua for almost half of his life, he knew how to say her name. And while the name-link isn't reliable on a Mortal, since they are prone to changing over time, due to their own perceptions of themselves, which are always changing. Supernatural beings don't usually change, or most of them usually don't. If a Vampire is inclined to kill you, it will still do that a month later, or even decades later.
Harry's eyes opened and he inhaled sharply, when he felt a connection form. Across the planet, in Japan, in a secluded castle, Akua's eyes opened.
"...Who's there?" Akua asked seriously, her eyes narrowing and her posture becoming hostile.
"...Akua...are you there? I'm not sure if this is working?" A familiar voice asked, causing Akua to look around.
"My dearest...where are you? What are you doing here?" She asked, looking around her room, but didn't see a thing.
"...I'm in Azkaban." Harry replied, causing Akua to freeze up, she knew what that place was. "…I'm in a cell, I'm talking to you through Magic." He informed, still in his cell, thunder lancing across the sky.
Akua slowly fell to her knees, in her room, in the Shuzen Castle. "M-My...I-I'm so sorry...I...I didn't stay with you." She said, her voice dead sounding. "W-While you are at your school...M-my family, my family contacted my. And I...i wanted to know who they were…and...my sisters, I have to protect my younger sisters..." She sounded, and Harry could feel the immense sadness she was feeling, the pain she had.
Harry exhaled through his nose, leaning his head back. "H-Harry, I-I'm so sorry. Please...I didn't betray..." She started.
"Akua, please be quiet." Harry said softly. "I'm not angry at you...In fact, it's so nice hearing your voice again." He admitted.
"What happened, dearest? Why are you locked up?" Akua questioned.
"A set of unforeseen circumstances. Nothing I can't handle. I guess, having you always in my shadow made me a bit reckless...I always thought my cute little vampire friend would always break me out of a bind." Harry admitted, looking down.
Akua herself slowly sat back, on her lavish bed. She had her hands in her lap, her blackish blue hair hanging in front of her face. "I'll get you out, just let give me a few days. I will find you." Akua declared, having a deranged and psychotic look in her eyes, her blood-lust clearly visible.
"No, I got myself into this problem, I'll get myself out of it. You Akua, you have a family. When I get out..." He trailed off.
"...I'll introduce you to my dearest sisters." Akua said with a small smile on her face.
Harry leaned his head back. "...Tell me about them." He spoke, wanting to pass the time.
Akua ran a hand through her dark hair, reminiscing. "My youngest sister, Kokoa, she's so fiery, filled with so much anger and a need for recognition. But, I believe she'll get control of herself, and become terrifying. Then there's my Beloved little sister, Moka. She reminds my so much of you, when you were younger. Innocent, yet filled with so much wisdom. Always wanting to be my friend. And then there's the sister closest to my age, Kahlua. She's so strong, stronger than me...she even frightens me sometimes. But she's filled with so much guilt, she cries so much." She commented.
"...Kokoa, Moka, Kahlua and Akua. Cocoa, Mocha, Kahlua, and Aqua. Why is it you and your sisters are named after drinks?" Harry asked, having a lighthearted tone.
Akua pouted a bit, by herself. "They sound lovely though, I'm glad you have a nice family." Harry said, causing Akua to grimace and look down.
She remembered what he told her about how horrible his family was. "Not just my family, beloved. They're your family, too." Akua informed.
"Heh, so we're married now?" Harry asked.
"You willingly gave me your blood to drink, when I was getting weak and hungry. Blood is currency of the Soul, for you to willingly give it to me, we're on Blood-sucking terms." Akua informed, having a blush on her face. "You were my first." She admitted, referring to drinking blood. "We might as well be." She added. "...You don't mind, right?" She asked.
"I'm thirteen and your eighteen." Harry said dully. "I don't think I can legally say anything about that..." He said. "...But…but emotionally, yes. I suppose we are...linked, bound together." He admitted.
Akua smiled a bit, alone in her room, before she looked at the door and then back down again. She gripped the edge of her bed, having an unsure look on her face.
Harry felt a shift in her emotional state, causing him to frown. "What's the matter, Akua?" He asked seriously.
"...I ah, I..." Akua started, before she took a breath and calmed herself. "My family didn't contact me, someone came to me and informed me, my family was looking for me. That person who told me, was my Grandfather, or a clone of him. He wants me to manipulate my sisters, to push them apart. To help my step-mother, so she could break the seal that my grandfather is trapped in. I'm tasked with the duty of freeing him, and he promised me, he wouldn't harm my beloved sisters." She admitted.
Harry frowned. "...Do you think this would scare me or something? You are no monster Akua, I will never see you as one. You can be the most..." He started.
"I think he's lying. I think he's going to betray me once I break the seal." Akua informed.
"...Betray you..." Harry said quietly, but Akua heard it in her mind.
"I think he will try to kill my sisters." Akua admitted. "...I don't want my precious sisters to die." She said seriously.
"What's your Grandfather's name?" Harry questioned.
"...Alucard..." Akua replied.
"Well..." Harry said, adjusting his glasses and smirked darkly. "...It would seem Alucard, needs a lesson in betrayal. Since he even thought about harming such cute vampires, such as you and your sisters. He deserves nothing but death." He informed.
Akua blushed a bit, at him calling her cute. "…What are you planning?" She asked.
"Give me a moment, tell me everything. His plan, his abilities. Every piece on this chess board." Harry said seriously, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
Akua glanced down. She knew Harry was younger than she was, but she knew he was smarter than her. He was smarter than most of her family in magical regards at the least. But she also believed in his abilities.
"...Tell me, everything." Harry muttered.
"Alright then." Akua said with a small smirk.
Fourth Year
Sitting by himself in the under belly of Hogwarts, in the dark and desolate Chamber of Secrets. Harry was by himself, like always, having no friends at Hogwarts after his second year. The death of one child, scaring off the potential friendship of another.
It had happened again, everyone seemed to hate him again. In between his fingers, Harry slowly twirled his wand. It was his original wand, the one he got with Hagrid years ago. From his wand, Harry felt a familiar chill, a comforting chill only matched by Akua's inhumanly pale, flawless skin.
Since he and his wand held a unique magical bond, they both started out light. But, as Harry changed, as his perspectives changed, so did his wand. While his wand held a phoenix Feather, holding an aliment with the Light. But even Voldemort's wand originally held an aliment with the light, but his was twisted to the darkness.
Harry didn't believe in a superiority in the light or dark, so in turn his wand didn't either. And like Harry grew and changed, so did the wand, it physically represented the change. Along the shaft of the wand, from the handle, up to the tip, were triple edged ridges, which twisted along the shaft and ended at the tip. Along the flat ends of the shaft, were several tiny Nordic symbols which gave off a low, humming, fiery orange glow. And the handle itself seemed to replaced or at the very least had a layer of Black Locust wood.
Harry sat on the cold floor of the Chamber, one leg stretched forward, while the other was closer to him, his knee against his abdomen. The arm in which he held his wand, was resting over his knees, lightly spinning the wand in his fingers.
"Goblet of Fire, Goblet of Fire." He said to himself, resenting the object for spiting out his name.
He stared at the remains of the Basilisk he killed years ago, before he grimaced, feeling a pain in his forehead. Harry brought his wand up and pressed the tip to his scar, and slowly rubbed circles around his scar. As he idly rubbed at his scar, Harry looked down in thought.
He slowly pulled his wand back, almost mirroring what he saw other wizards do, when they pulled their memories out. As he did so, he looked a bit surprised to see a writhing form of deep black, smokey energy. It was small, bit it's motion was erratic, writhing about.
"The hell is this?" He asked, looking at Voldemort's Spiritual Fragment.
Harry lowered his wand, the smokey energy writhing about. As he inclined his head forward, looking at it, he felt warm liquid running down his cheek. He reached up with his free hand and lightly dabbed at his cheek and pulled his hand back, revealing his fingers had blood on it. He reached up further and touched his forehead, where his scar was and he felt the focal point of the blood.
It didn't take Harry to long to put two-and-two together. "...That was inside my scar." He said unsure, looking at it. Feeling a familiar presence he had felt before. The same presence he felt in his first year fighting Quarrel, and Tom Riddle's Diary in his second year. He felt Voldemort. "...A piece of his spirit, it was always inside me." Harry said unsure, and he realized why his scar hurt so much in Voldemort's presence. The piece in his forehead was trying to return to the original.
Harry looked at the writhing soul fragment, before his eyes were drawn towards the black ink-stain which was on the ground near the statue head of Salazar. He looked back at the soul fragment and then back at the spot. "...No...Multiple fragments?" He asked himself.
"My Scar, Voldemort, The Diary..." Harry listed, and was baffled. If there was three, than there could be more. But what could he do? He can't kill a soul, he wasn't sure if that was even possible. He held a fragment of Voldemort's soul, what was he going to do with it?
He glanced down at his shadow and raised an eyebrow. "...Change it's form, it's purpose." He said, his eyes drifting towards the skeletal remains of the Basilisk he killed.
"Hmm..." Harry sounded, before he whistled. "…Come here." He instructed, as the flickering flames of candles in the Chamber caused his shadow to twitch, before the darkness vanished completely.
The sound of bubbling water filled the air, as a black mass was crouching a few feet behind the boy. Harry turned around, looking at the shadowy mass, before it slowly stood up. It took a humanoid shape, it's body was more than six feet tall, before a pair of glowing blue eyes formed on the blank-black face, with a bright blue mouth opening, revealing pointed vampire-like teeth. Bright blue flames seemed to rise from it's head, with black bubbles rising from the shadow creatures head.
"What is it you require..." The shadow began in a high-pitched watery void, as it slashed it's hands out, causing the black mass around it to flare out, revealing it was wearing a large cloak, it having a high-collar. The inner part of the cloak was red, with the creature having a multitude of skulls around it's chest. "...My mast-aa!" It said, finishing in a whisper.
The shadow creature brought it's thin, lanky arms up, pushing it's unnaturally pointed fingers together, which seemed to be a third of the length longer than the normal finger.
"Demongo..." Harry said, looking at the animated shadow. "...I want you bring me more of this..." He said, holding up the writhing, smokey form of Voldemort's spiritual fragment.
"Ohh, the spiritual essence of a fallen enemy. If that is what you require, then I will be done, my mast-aa." Demongo informed, leaning his head forward, the beings flaming head giving off a bubbly sound. The shadow creature covered it's body with it's cloak, reaching out towards the spiritual fragment, only for Harry to pull it back.
"No, this stays with me. I have plans for it. I want you to track down the rest..." Harry started, before he motioned towards the large, black ink-stain on the ground. "…An object containing something similar created that, you should get a trail from it. If you find any objects holding something like this, bring it to me, will you?" He questioned.
"An object Hmm, not a being?" Demongo questioned.
"No beings. If you find an object, bring it to me. If you find someone though, leave it be. I don't want anything alerted. If someone is there, they could have some defense against shadows. You never know." Harry rambled off.
"No longer worry for you troubles. I will retrieve this objects, do not fret, Mast-aa." Demongo spoke, before he turned and vanished in a bright blue flame, dissipating.
With the Corporal Shadow Creature gone, Harry turned and looked at the Basilisk Skeleton and the writhing form of Voldemort's soul. He slowly crossed his arms, lightly tapping his fingers against his own arm.
A Few Days Later
Harry slowly walked from the Gryffindor Common Room, heading towards the Great Hall. He had his hands crossed, his head lowered a bit, a frown on his face. His left hand was resting over his right bicep, as he rolled his wand between his fingers.
He entered the Great Hall, glancing around the four massive tables. He ignored the glares from three-fourths of the school students. Like he normally did, he tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, almost to the point where they looked closed and walked to the Gryffindor table.
With his new 'sensing' ability, he didn't need to 'see' to know where he was going. As he sat down at the table, Harry leaned forward, his elbow on the table and he continued to roll his wand in-between his fingers.
"Heh, moping around still, Potter?" A sneering voice of Draco questioned, his group of Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy sniggering at the insult.
"It must be a great view..." Harry said uncaringly. "...On your high-horse, that is." He said, turning and facing the Slytherins, his eyes closed. "…It will be sight for me, when you fall, hard. When your world eventually crashes around you, and you are trying and failing to grasp on the miniscule moments and pathetic lulls of your life." He said, his mouth stretching, forming into a smile. "I will remember this, and ask the same question you asked me." He replied.
"You're a creep, Potter." Draco sneered, loosing any amusement he held.
Harry shrugged uncaringly, as he looked away from the group. "You're views on me, don't change who I am. But they do change how I perceive you, though." He admitted.
"I can't wait to see you fail, Potter." Draco snapped angrily, storming off with his group.
"Bye-bye." Harry replied, smiling at the Slytherins and waved. "See you in potions!" He said happily.
A few hours later, Harry was in the dungeons of Hogwarts, where potions was taught. As he arrived at the dungeon, he noticed mostly if not all of the Slytherins wore badges, all which had a message on them. 'Support Cedric Diggory, The Real Hogwarts Champion.'
"Like them Potter?" Draco asked, crossing his arms. "And look at this." He said, pressing the badge, causing it to shit and say 'Potter Stinks'. With all of the Slytherin laughing, and as all of them followed to change their badge, one laugh deafened them all.
"Muhahahaha!" Harry laughed, loudly and in a fake hysteria. "That's so hilarious, the ingenious of it" He said, tapping the side of his head, his eyes closed. "The message is so stupid, it makes other people as stupid as you, when you read it. Honestly, this is your best work, Draco. Kudos to you. I mean, whoever came up with these badges, could've put at least more effort than none into this, and could've come up with an interesting insult." He said, as he stepped closer towards them, his ever-present smile on his face. "But then again, I can count your combined IQ on a single hand, so I'm surprised half of you know how to put a pin in cloth." He insulted.
He held his hand out towards Draco. "Can I have on? I want to keep it as a memento. I got such a good laugh out of it, I want one, so when I'm down in the dumps again, I can get a good pick me up." He said in a mocking politeness.
The Slytherins retracted, but Draco glared at the boy. "You think you're better than us?" He asked.
"...No, not really." Harry admitted uncaringly.
But the seemed to aggravate Draco, as he leveled his wand at the teen and screamed an incantation. Harry turned, taking a unique stance. In his left hand, he held his wand, rearing it back, with his right arm in front, acting like a barrier. His right arm was raised, his left hand and wand pointed right at Draco. Harry's right arm was almost level with his face, and Draco was almost petrified at what he saw, when Harry opened one eye, the other being covered by his hair.
He saw a dark green, slitted eye, matching that of a serpent or a cat. "Rakurai!" Harry hissed, as he thrust his wand forward, still underneath his arm. A sound matching that of a thunder clap filled the hallway, as a thin, incredibly fast bolt of almost lightning shot forward, lancing through the air and vaporizing Draco's spell.
Sparks of electricity crackled about, Draco frozen in place, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Hell, most of the Slytherins seemed to have moved back, and were silenced as well.
"What is all this noise!?" Snape questioned deadly, before an echoing rattle of all of the Slytherins spoke at once, trying to explain what had happened. But he silenced them when he pointed at Draco. "Explain." He stated.
"H-Harry attacked me." Draco admitted, still stunned.
"I do have to admit, it is true." Harry said casually, getting Snape's attention, the boy's eyes closed and his mouth forming an ever-present smile. "Tempers were flared, jokes went a bit too far. I'm sure you know how some jokes can get out of hand, when his joke reached that point...well..." He trailed off.
Snape narrowed his eyes at the teen. "...Fifty points." He stated.
"I suppose it does seem far, Professor." Harry agreed, smiling.
Snape frowned at the teen. He couldn't read Harry's mind, hell he hadn't been able to since the beginning of the year. He knew a few bits and pieces of what happened to him, him going to Azkaban. While he didn't really believe that was a good idea, he didn't care enough to protest. But Harry didn't seem insane, or hold the mystical eye power Dumbledore seemed to predict he would have.
In fact, Harry was more...darker than before. Usually, Harry was a quiet, broody, if not grumpy kid. But now, he was acting different. And Snape wasn't sure if it was good or not.
As the students filed into the class room, Harry sat near the back, 'watching' Snape, as the lesson started. "Antidotes, you should have all prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we'll select someone on whom to test one." Snape spoke, his eyes glancing over at a smiling Harry.
A knock on the door interrupted the class though, as a young boy, Collin entered the room and shuffled towards Snape.
"Yes?" Snape asked curtly.
"Please sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs." Collin informed.
"Potter has another hour of potions to complete." Snape said irritated. "He will go upstairs when this class is finished." He added coldly.
"S-sir, Mister Bagman wants him to go, with all the champions. I think he wants them to take photographs." Collin admitted.
"Very well, very well, Potter. Leave your things, I want you back down here to test your antidote!" Snape snapped angrily.
"Please sir, he has to take his things with him all the champions..." Collin started again.
"Very well!" Snape snapped at the boy and looked at Harry, to see the boy's smile had dimmed a bit, his mouth opened in frustration.
"I was looking forward towards this class..." Harry commented idly, as he stood up. "…Poisons and Antidotes, my favorite." He added, as he grabbed his back and headed towards the door, and left.
Harry ignored Collin, as the boy rambled on and on about him. As soon as he arrived at the right place however, the boy left. He opened the door to the room and noticed it was a small class room, with most of the internal objects being pushed aside.
He looked around and saw the pudgy Bagman sitting in one of the desks. He saw Viktor Krum standing by himself in a corner, brooding to himself. He saw Cedric and Fleur talking to each other, and he saw a small man with a black camera in the corner.
"Ah, there he is, Champion Number Four, in you come, in you come!" Bagman announced, when he noticed the wayward teen. "There's nothing to worry about, it's just the Wand-Weighing Ceremony." He informed.
"Wand weighing..." Harry said unsure, his smile being more strained for a moment, as he held his wand in a tight grip.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know. As they are your most important tools in the tasks ahead." Bagman informed. "The expert is upstairs now, with Dumbledore." He added. "After that, there will be a photo-shoot with Ms Rita Skeeter." He informed, motioning to a woman in lightly colored robes. "She's doing a small story on the Tournament." He commented.
"Maybe not that small, Bagman." Rita commented, her eyes focusing on Harry. "Oh, I wonder if I can have a little word with Harry, before we start." She admitted. "The youngest Champion, to add a bit of color." She spoke, staring at the boy.
"Certainly, if the boy has no objection." Bagman replied.
"I would love too, but I am a bit afraid to admit. I am not always the best speaker when it comes to the ladies." Harry said, in a polite, indirect tone. His eyes closed and a smile on his face. "I am sure you understand, miss." He said.
"Nonsense." Rita said, stepping forward.
"I'm afraid he's spoken, Rita. Sorry." Bagman said, causing Rita to huff in annoyance and walk off.
Harry inclined his head forward, his smile turning sinister, with his eyes closed, he held a serpent-like appearance. He watched the woman leave, before he slowly sat down at a desk, in front of a table. He had his wand in his hand, slowly twirling it between his fingers.
After a few minutes the 'judges' of the tournament sat at the table, the judges being the Headmasters, and Game-master of the tournament. At his side, he saw Fleur sit down on his right, since he was sitting on the furthest left, no one sat on his other side.
He stared forward, as he noticed Rita move herself into a dark corner. He noticed Cedric sat at Fleur's other side, with Viktor at his. Dumbledore smiled. "May I introduce, Mr. Ollivander?" He asked, talking to the champions, sitting at the judges table. "He will be checking your wands to make sure they are in good condition, before the tournament." He informed.
"Madam, Delacour. Could we have you forward, first, please?" Ollivander asked softly, stepping into the middle of the room.
Fleur moved towards him and handed him her wand. "Hmm...Nine and a half inches, inflexible, rose-wood, and containing...dear me." Ollivander observed.
"An 'air from zhe 'ead of a veela. One of my grandmuzzer's." Fleur informed.
Harry raised an eyebrow at that, opening one eye and looking at the girl. She was beautiful, now doubt about that. But she hardly compared to her.
"Yes, yes. I never used Veela hair myself of course, I think it happens to make rather temperamental wands. However to each is own, and if this suits you..." Ollivander trailed off, checking the wand over. He cast a small spell, summoning a few flowers, before handing the wand back to the blonde girl. "Very well, very well. It seems your wand is in working order." He spoke, picking up the flowers and handing them to Fleur, along with her wand.
Harry watched as the old wand-maker inspect the other two champions' wands. As that went on, Harry turned his head slightly and looked at Dumbledore. The old man in question was studying Harry, as the boy studied Dumbledore in turn.
"...Mr. Potter..." Ollivander's voice spoke, grabbing the teen's attention.
Harry stood up and took a few steps towards the old wand-maker, brandishing his wand and held it out towards Ollivander. The old man reached out and grabbed onto it, but Ollivander noticed Harry hadn't let go. He even noticed the unsure look on the teen's face, through the smile he had.
"...I'm not going to break it." Ollivander said softly, causing Harry to sigh and release it, letting the old wand-maker look at the Foci. "...Ah, yes, yes, yes...How well I remember." He spoke, his voice trailing off, his eyes glinting, as he looked the wand over.
"Oh my..." He said, his fingers running over the three edges along the shaft of the wand, which twisted all the way to the tip. "...I believe, a wand chooses a wizard, same as a wizard chooses their wand. The bond formed between wizard and wand, are complex and mysterious. Some wands resist their master, impeding their potential. There are some wands, that hold such a strong bond with their master, when that master passes...the wand wilts away, ceasing to work." Ollivander spoke.
"To think, you would be the later." The Wand-maker spoke, looking at the mutated wand. "A Wand learns from it's master, as they learn from it. It seems, your wand, as taken on traits from you, Mr. Potter." He said, his fingers running along the triple-edges along the shaft. "...Ridged, guarded, protected...and, in love." He said, his eyes looking over the sigils which gave off a glow. The sigils being Nordic in nature.
Harry frowned a bit at the comment, he didn't know Ollivander could read that. On his wand, he inscribed a poem. A love poem to his vampire friend. Magic, or at the very least a basis in manipulating it, was fueled by emotion. The two strongest of emotions Harry had within him were Hate, and love. And to him, it was hard to Hate, it being a constant work, a perpetuating work.
"...And you changed the handle I see..." Ollivander spoke, his eyes looking at the wood. "I don't believe I use this type though." He commented.
"It's Black Locust wood." Harry admitted, causing the wand-maker's eyebrow to raise.
"Oh my, so strong..." Ollivander commented, recognizing the wood name, it being known for it's strength. "…But its so poisonous too. But even with this, 'shell'. It still remains the same as it was, when I first saw it." He said, looking more at Harry than at the wand. "It's grown, it's adapted, it's changed. But, deep down, through the hard shell, the burning ambition, and pain. It still..." He trailed off, his misty eyes studying Harry.
Harry's smile had turned into a frown, his eyes still closed. "…Is it in working condition?" He questioned, irritated.
Ollivander turned and leveled the wand at the wall, waving it lightly. A chilling mist filled the air, as permafrost began to form along one of the walls. "Perfect, absolutely….perfect." He said, longingly as he returned the wand to the teen.
Harry grabbed onto the wand, and began to twirl it between his fingers. "Thank you all..." Dumbledore spoke, standing up. "...You may go back to your lessons now, or perhaps it would be quicker if you just head down to Dinner. As they are just about to end." He informed.
"Eh, pictures first!" Bagman announced, the camera man brought his camera out.
A few minutes later, when Harry was leaving the room, he was stopped by Dumbledore. "Hello there, Harry. If you wouldn't mind coming with me, we have a lot to talk about." He informed, causing Harry to incline his head in the old man's direction. As two cloaked figures were at his side.
"Lead the way, Headmaster." Harry said, smiling.
In the Head Master's Office
Harry slowly passed the threshold of the room, the unique gadgets littering the place moved of their own accord, with a brightly colored Phoenix perched high in the air. The teen's eyes opened slightly, his dark green eyes absorbing the information around the place, the visages of objects and Dumbledore inside the room.
Dumbledore sat at his desk, with Harry standing in front of it, a smile on his face and his eyes closed, hiding any true form of his emotions or psychological state.
"So what do you need from me, Headmaster?" Harry asked in a polite tone.
Dumbledore held a curious look on his face. With what happened last year, with his intervention which had led Harry to Azkaban. He expected Harry to threaten him, to call him a traitor. To threaten him with unimaginable pain. But he didn't expect Harry to act like this.
"Harry, do you hate me?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Hate? Why would I hate you, Headmaster?" Harry asked with a smile. "It's not like you put me in a situation in which I had to defend myself. Allowing me to take a fall." He said, still smiling, causing the old man to look down, regretful. "Hating you, cursing your name, they would be the acts of a petulant child." He said, tilting his head forward, his visage more snake-like, contradicting the lighthearted tone he had.
"I will explain everything to you, Harry. I know the utter pain you've experienced in you life. It's my fault." Dumbledore admitted taking blame. "I learned something, perhaps they were wrong, perhaps I did things the wrong way. I wanted to give you strength, strength for the future. But...but I only gave you hardship." He spoke, his tone melancholic.
"Strength?" Harry questioned curiously.
"Through misery, you were to gain something powerful. In your eyes. It seems though..." Dumbledore trailed off. "...But I'll explain everything later. I believe, you should meet some people. Some people who you should have been with since your birth." He informed.
Harry faced Dumbledore, looking a bit unsure. Before he heard the door to the room open up, with two pairs of shuffling feet following the sound. He sensed a familiar presence, causing him to turn around. Standing behind him were two figures, to people, he thought he would have never seen. A middle-aged man with black hair and hazel eyes, and a middle-aged woman with bright red hair and vivid green eyes.
Harry's eyes actually opened fully, revealing dark green, slitted eyes. His eyes moved between the two, before he turned, looking at Dumbledore, his mouth forming a frown.
"They...are alive?" He questioned, and to all of their surprise, there was no burst of emotion, or angry statement.
"Only the people in this room, know of their status, Harry." Dumbledore stated. ".. We had and have to keep it that way." He informed.
Harry stared at the old man for a few moments, before he lowered his head a bit and put his hands in his pockets. He turned around and walked passed Lily and James Potter, his apparent living parents.
"Wait, Harry. Don't you want to know, to understand why this..." Dumbledore started.
"…Will the answer change the way I see you? Will this great revaluation sudden make things so clear?" Harry asked, slowly turning around and looking at all three of them, Dumbledore, Lily, and James. "Or will it only give me more questions, questions I'll have a need to answer? You betrayed..." He started.
"It was a mistake Harry, we thought..." Dumbledore started.
"Mistakes are as serious as the results they cause." Harry replied, his eyes closed and a frown on his face. "My relatives betrayed me, treating me worse than dirt. My Teachers, my superiors betrayed me...When I'm in pain, they look the other way. When I needed them the most, they turned me down. Me peers betrayed me, they turned on me, accusing me of crimes I didn't commit and curse me behind my back. My parents betrayed me, faking their death, letting me go to Azkaban. Letting me die a little, little by little each day, to the fate of a withering husk." Harry spoke seriously.
"No..." Harry said, glancing facing downward for a moment. In his first year, he had two friends. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Both of them had their flaws, but they were human, and they tried. In October, Hermione was killed, crushed under the immense strength of a Mountain Troll. Ron took it especially hard, he blamed himself for the reason why she was killed, he saw her mangled body, and he...he was never the same, and he left Hogwarts. Leaving Harry alone, after that, he didn't form any new friendships. Everything after that point, every trial, every life-threatening event, he moved forward under his own will. But even then, there were limits.
"...No, I won't hear what you three have to say." Harry said, opening the door to the room. "You know what they say, betray me six times, shame on your Betray me seven...well...Bye-bye." He trailed off, closing the door behind him with a smile on his face, looking at the adults.
As he closed the door and took a few steps forward, away from the office, Harry's smile fell. He went around a corner and leaned against the wall, opening his eyes. He inhaled sharply a few times, as his eyes watered. He reached up and pushed his glasses upwards, and rubbed his thumb and index finger against his eyes.
After a few moments, his hand lowered into a fist, and he held it in front of his mouth, taking a few breaths. He leaned his head back and opened his eyes, as he stared up at the stone ceiling. He aimlessly dried off his glasses and folded them up, hooking them in the helm of his shirt.
"What you you do, Akua?" Harry asked himself, looking up. After a moment, he took a breath and manned up, before anyone saw him. He pushed himself off the wall and started down the hallway, he had work to do.
For those that picked up on it, this story is my telling on the 'Harry-Azkaban-Sharingan' Fanfic-thing. When i read that story, while i don't hate it. Harry just acts so broody and just constantly threatens people with no real actual pay off. This is my telling and a more, different take on the story.
Anyway, for the parings. Some people love them, some people hate them. But they're here to stay.
Harry's obviously with Akua Shuzen, one of the most underrated and under-paired girls from Rosario Vampire. And i don't get why she's so underrated, she so fucking adorable!
Other than that, Harry has one more person he's going to be with. And you'll know instantly by the end of the next chapter. And if it's in popular demand, i may add a few more of the Shuzen Sisters if people want (Moka, Kokoa, Kahlua), hell i might even to some Gyokuro revenge action.
I don't know, anyway, later.