On a Tangent

A Harry Potter FanFic
by
Professor Pedant

Forward

After the end of the War, Harry left the wizarding world. Seven years later he visited a nightclub on the Fringe, home to outcasts who cannot live under the Ministry, but will not leave magic behind. A double murder involving a wizard and a vampire throws the Fringe in to chaos and draws Harry back into the world of the Ministry and its troubles. Harry partners with old friends and a new vampire lover to find and stop the murderers before all Hell breaks loose?

Paranormal mystery/romance. Explores the fringes of the magical world, wizarding and vampire politics, and adult relationships. Not Epilogue compliant.

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or places in his stories.

Chapter One

"I'm going to hate this place, aren't I?" moaned James. He had been born Harry James Potter, but ever since he left the wizarding world behind almost eight years before, he had gone by his middle name. He pretty much thought of himself as James. Harry Potter was a git that had gotten too many people killed. He was not someone that James wanted anywhere near his new girlfriend.

"Stop your whinging," chided Elspeth Townson. She was taller than James, though most people were, and slim with bone china skin and deep purple hair cut asymmetrically. Her lips were a crimson slash in her pale white face. Her black and grey pseudo-Victorian dress hugging her dancer's figure made up the rest of the very gothic picture. "You said if I tried your favorite Bulgogi restaurant, you'd come to my favorite club."

"Yeah, but Bulgogi's great."

"Are you saying my club'll be shit?" Elspeth wheeled to poke James in the chest. "You know what? You don't have to come. If you'd rather go down to the Fish and Firkin and play darts with the barristers and estate agents all bloody evening, you go right ahead. I'm meeting my friends. So go on, sod off."

"I don't even know any barristers," James said, grabbing her hand gently. "I didn't mean I wasn't coming. I just …" He didn't think telling her that he worried that most goths were pretentious, poseurs, or worse, head cases off their meds wold be a good thing for their relationship.

"What? You just what?"

"I just worry that I'm going to get laughed at. I don't exactly fit the image of the club." Harry gestured to himself. He was wearing black trousers and a black silk t-shirt, over which he had thrown a black trench coat. But his deeply tanned skin, from months spent under the Southern California sun, did not fit the aesthetic. His black hair was casually cut, short to help tame its natural unruliness. His famous lightning bolt scar had been removed with laser surgery, though the area still did not tan as well as the rest of his skin. None of his scars did. He had also had his eyes corrected with Lasik, so he no longer wore glasses.

"You look fine. You can't help it if you're actually a Hollywood Barbie doll."

"Please, at least tell me I'm Malibu Ken. I'd hate for us to have any gender confusion at this point in the relationship."

She smiled and slipped her arm in his. "Let's go, Ken."

James opted to take a taxi. It was a pleasant early October evening, but the club was too far to walk and James hated the Tube. It always made him feel too closed in, unless it was almost empty. Then it was a little spooky. From Elspeth's flat to the club took about twenty minutes in evening traffic. The wizard gazed out the window for much of the ride.

"Are you glad to be back?" Elspeth asked.

"It's been a while," James mused. "I never spent a lot of time in London. I'd occasionally come here during school holidays and I spent part of one year here my last year of school. But even then I never got out and about much. It's so different from New York or Los Angeles or Vancouver or ..."

"Why'd you come back?"

James reached for her hand. It felt warm and soft in his. "The movie I was working on came here to shoot some scenes and I came with it. Met you. Decided to stick around."

"For me?"

"Aren't you worth it?"

"Of course I am. I just didn't know you were that perceptive."

"I think it may be time to further my education," James smiled.

"Your ... education?"

"Yes, I wanted to look at some unis over here. Time to go back to school."

"Prat," Elspeth tugged James into a kiss. They whiled away the time until the taxi stopped in front of the night club, Tangents.

The club was large, dark and, even at an early hour, full of young men and women in unrelenting black. The only flashes of color were the various unnatural hues of hair and random lights. After James paid the cover, he and Elspeth entered through a long tunnel light by UV tubes. This opened into a crowded foyer. To the left was a long bar with a few high tables set nearby. To the right was a dark corridor leading to someplace labeled the Crypt. Directly ahead there were stairs leading up to the Aerie and down to the Pit. Loud music with a slow, pounding beat emanated from below. Glancing down the short stairway, James saw the Pit was a dance floor half full of writhing bodies.

"Let's go up," Elspeth half yelled in his ear. "Elliot said he'd meet us in the Aerie." She grabbed his arm and half dragged him up the dark stairway. The wizard slipped out of her clutches and motioned for her to precede him. He absently rubbed his bicep. Her grip was much stronger than her slim form would have suggested. James knew she had spent years studying dance and that she still had surprising strength. It also gave her legs to die for, which were well displayed in the black fishnets Harry was admiring as she climbed the stairs before him.

The Aerie was a comfortable nest with a small bar, sofas and settees placed to create comfortable conversation niches. The lighting was subdued, but more natural than that below. There was a railing overlooking the Pit, but the music was somewhat subdued, enough so that conversation was possible. It was half ten and the place was just beginning to fill. James expected that it would grow more crowded as they approached the witching hour.

"There he is!" Elspeth cried, pointing to a young man in, what else, black leather pants and waistcoat, with a black bowler perched on short cut black hair. James stopped as he sensed the aura the man projected. Since his last close call with the dementors after fourth year, Harry had found himself particularly sensitive to magical auras. It became more sensitive after his trip to the afterlife and the final battle. It was one of the reasons he had left the magical world behind. He had only experienced an aura like this man's a few times before. He flashed back to the Slug Club party he had taken Luna to his sixth year at Hogwarts. There had been a tall, pale man who radiated a similar deathly aura – Sanguini the vampire. James hand stole to the wand hidden up his left sleeve. He seldom used it, but still carried it. Especially in Britain, where he likely still had enemies willing to do him and his harm. He did not know of any vampires among that number, but he was not going to take any chances.

"Elliot, this is my new guy, James Potts," Elspeth introduced. "James, this is Elliot Pitney. He's a bloody brilliant artist. You have to see his paintings sometime. They're to die for."

"Not literally I hope," James said cautiously. He held his hand out to the artist. One touch would confirm his suspicions. Elliot seemed almost as reluctant to take James' hand as the wizard was to offer it. But shake they did and as they felt their magical aura intermingling, each was certain the other was more than human.

"We goths may be fascinated with death and its associated iconography, but that doesn't make us killers," the vampire replied, adding a layer of subtext to the conversation. "For the most part, we're pretty harmless."

James nodded and motioned for Elspeth to have a seat. "I'll go get drinks. A black and tan for the lady. What'll you have, Elliot?"

"Blood wine," the artist replied. "It's a specialty of the house." James nodded and left the table. As he walked to the bar he started looking more closely at the patrons of the club. He saw at least a dozen other people with pale skin and protruding canines. Two of them had auras identifying them as different from the others. He even noticed one young woman who, through the piercings and tattoos, bore a strong resemblance to the hags he had seen in Knockturn Alley, albeit younger. Her aura felt like rotten meat smelled. There was a young woman at the end of the bar beating out the rhythm of the dance music playing in the Pit, but instead of drumsticks she was using two wands. Definitely magical.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," James muttered.

"Not even close," said the bartender as he appeared in front of the confused wizard. He was a tall, muscular man with a mesh shirt showing off well-inked skin. His head was shaved and he had metal spikes imbedded in his scalp. His aura was odd but unfamiliar. "First time here?"

"Yeah."

"You'll either get used to it or …" He smiled, showing a mouthful of teeth filed to points. Harry saw a twinkle in his eyes that reminded him of Dumbledore. He felt a subtle mental touch brush across the surface of his mind.

"Or I'll disappear, never to be seen again?"

"Nah. You'd just never come back, I'd imagine. Can't see why you'd come to a club you don't like. Place ain't for everyone." He held up a glass and asked, "What'll be?"

James gulped and willed himself not to go for his wand. "I'll have a black and tan, a pint of cider, and a blood wine."

"See, you're fitting in already. The wine for you, or?" he gestured to the table with Elspeth and Elliot.

"I've been out of the country for five years. Decent cider's hard to come by in the States."

"Welcome back. Have one on the house."

"Cheers!" James said as he took the three glasses. He had no idea if that fellow was a vampire, wizard, were, or something else entirely. Whatever he was, it was not a normal human. Still, a free drink was a free drink.

" … so Rachel basically told Gina to piss off …" Elliot stopped when James approached the table. The wizard carefully set his double handful of drinks down on the dark wood surface. I bit of the blood wine sloshed out of the glass and landed on James' finger. He curiously tasted the spilled drop. It was not blood. Instead it was wine, spiced with pepper and cinnamon, among others. It was warm and thick, almost syrupy. Elliot raised an eyebrow at James' action. The wizard shrugged slightly and seated himself. Elliot raised the glass. "Ta."

"Elliot was just telling me about Rachel, who's a student who sometimes comes around. Not really hardcore, but part of the scene. Anyway she was getting into it with my old flatmate, Gina. I think I've told you about her."

"Um," James prevaricated, "I think so. You didn't get along?" He sipped his cider. It was good; different from that which he found in the States, but he could never say just how. He winced as he watched Elspeth down half her pint in a single draught. Much more of that and he knew he would be pouring her into bed, which was not how he hoped the evening would end.

"Well Gina asked Rachel to move in and …" the young woman continued.

"As I was saying Rachel told her to get stuffed, in not so many words," Elliot jumped in trying to regain his place a primary storyteller. "I thought Gina was gonna slap her, but Finn stepped in and made sure everyone played nice. That must have been a week ago Thursday. I haven't seen Gina back in the club, but I hear Rachel should be here tonight."

"If I see Gina I might be tempted to …" Elspeth said as she took another deep drink.

"Hey, hey," James tried to calm her. "I thought you came here to have fun. Elliot, may I call you Elliot?"

"Of course. I hate being called Mr. Pitney."

"Elspeth tells me you're an accomplished artist."

"He's bloody brilliant." She enthused.

"Appropriate phrasing I imagine," James said under his breath. Elliot quirked one side of his mouth. "What sort of art do you create?"

"Are familiar with the Pre-Raphaelites?"

"No?"

"They were a group of painters in the mid to late nineteenth century. Terribly romantic and quite popular with certain groups over the century. Including my fellow goths. My art is a modernized version of their style."

"He paints such lovely ghosts and ghouls and vampires. His work is ever so popular. The color and composition are compelling. The symbolism and allusions set throughout are like a puzzle challenging the viewer to find the hidden meanings."

"I'd love to see some of your work sometime," James said. "The closest I ever come to painting is building and dressing sets."

"Theater or films?" Elliot inquired.

"James works mostly films. He's spent the last, what five, years in Hollywood."

"Something like that, though I've also worked in New York, Toronto, and Vancouver. But I got my start on a small film here in London some years ago. Mostly I work props and special effects. I have done a little stage work, but I think films offer more variety."

"We have a small stage here, on which we produce the occasional show." James turned. The speaker was a petite, young, platinum-blond with milky white skin and pale blue eyes surrounded with heavy black make-up. She wore a black satin bodice and skirt over a scarlet off the shoulder blouse with detached sleeves. A black lace choker bound her long neck. She was striking. "It's quite possible that the spectacle might be improved with the appropriate special effects. Perhaps we can interest you in working with us?"

"Finn!" Elspeth popped to her feet and embraced the blonde in a friendly hug.

"Ellie, it's good to see you too. But calm down girl, it's only been a week or two." Finn replied. "Elliot, glad you could join us this evening. Always happy to have you here. Who's your friend?"

"Hazel Finn, meet James Potts," Elspeth made the introduction. "Finn's the manager here."

"Nice to meet you," James replied and held out his hand. The porcelain doll offered hers in return. James could not detect anything unusual in her aura. She seemed to be completely normal. No trace of magic.

"I'm actually the assistant manager. Mr. Frome's the manager. First time here?"

"Indeed," James thought it odd that this was the second time in an hour an employee had asked him that. They do keep track of newcomers. "So far it's been an interesting experience. Tell me about these performances. I take it you don't mean bands playing or that sort of thing."

"No, several of our more theatrical patrons occasionally put on a masque or tableau. Sometimes they get pretty macabre. Imagine what added special effects might do." Finn gestured broadly when she spoke. It gave her the impression of size.

"I'm picturing blood spurting to the back row and guts flung all over the audience. Real Tom Savini stuff." James added. The discussion continued with each of the four adding stranger, funnier, and in many cases more gruesome ideas for special effects and theatrics.

Eventually Finn said, "As much fun as this is, I'm supposed to be working. Have a good evening, and I hope to see you again, Harry."

"James." Elspeth corrected.

"Right, sorry. Must have been thinking of someone else." She smiled and wandered off. James watched after her.

"I think it's time to get another round. Same all around?" James asked. Elspeth nodded.

Elliot demurred. "I'm still working on this one. I have a tendency to savor my libations and a single drink will last me some time." Elliot replied with a meaningful look. James just nodded and went off to the bar. A different bartender filled his order and James noticed the big bald fellow was standing near at the railing looking over the dance floor. He saw James looking at him and lifted his chin in the anti-nod men often used to acknowledge one another.

James and Elspeth stayed at Tangents until the early hours of the morning. Afterwards James saw his lady back to her flat. She was both exhausted and inebriated so the wizard undressed her, tucked the young lady into her bed, and kissed her gently goodnight. After gazing appreciatively at her fine form and shaking his head at the lost opportunity, he pulled his seldom used wand and cast an anti-hangover charm on her that the Seamus had taught him during his fourth year. Having seen to his main responsibility, James decided to indulge his curiosity. Another taxi took him back to the club. He had questions and hoped someone would provide answers.

Elliot had not moved from the comfortable chair in the Aerie by the time James returned. It was after 4 a.m. and the club was on its way to empty. The wizard seated himself next to the vampire. The bald bartender brought a pint for James who nodded his thanks. The two men sat silently for several minutes while each sipped their preferred libations. Finally James could not hold his question.

"So how many of the fanged folk here are really vampires? I saw at least three, including you."

"It's easy to hide in a crowd, and who'd believe in the unbelievable when the pretenders offer such a palatable alternate explanation." Elliot took a sip of his drink. Harry noted that the liquid seemed thicker, more viscous than the wine had been. "Who but someone already aware of the magical world, eh wizard?"

Harry raised his pint in a silent toast.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" the artist asked.

"I used to be," James said grimacing. "But it's been a long time. Now I'm just James."

"We all have secret faces." Elliot said solemnly.

James broke out laughing. "Really … secret faces? Come on, don't be a cliché."

Elliot smiled. "Yeah that was shite, but some of us are old enough that they talk like some character from The Mysteries of Udolpho."

"Not familiar with that one. How old are you, if that's not considered rude?"

Elliot looked at him for a moment. "It is, kind of. But I'll answer. I was born in 1891 so I'm about the same age as some of your old teachers at Hogwarts. Younger than some, even. That's considered pretty young by our standards."

"About this place?"

"Did you ever hear of the Fringe when you were at Hogwarts?"

Harry, the talk of Hogwarts threw him back into his original mental persona, thought back. He had continued to study occlumency, mostly through zen meditation and yoga. His memory was much better than most. "Maybe. It sounds familiar but I could be confusing it with Fringe Festivals."

"It's an unofficial name adopted by the people involved. Between the muggle world and the wizarding world there are a number of people that are aware of magic, may even be magical, but are not wholly part of either the wizarding or mundane worlds."

"Vampires?"

"Yes. I was born to a mundane family and only learned of the magical world when I turned. But there are many others."

"Werewolves? And squibs?"

"Yes, and the families of muggle-born wizards and witches, as well as many muggle-borns themselves if they choose to leave the wizarding world after their schooling." The bald bartender interrupted Elliot by placing another glass of what Harry suspected was blood on the table in front of the vampire. He set a full pint of cider in front of Harry and placed a third drink for himself down and sat in a third chair. Elliot nodded in thanks and sipped the fresh drink.

The bartender continued where Elliot had left off. "There's other magical folk who can pass, if only barely, as human – hags, veela, half-breeds, and others you've probably not heard of. We …" he emphasized, "can and do move back and forth, interacting with both the wizarding and mundane world, some more'n one world than t'other. We're the Fringe. There's an outer fringe to the magical world too; magical beings that cannot pass as human – goblins, centaur, merfolk, giants, sphinxes, and others – but don't have a real place in the wizarding world. On rare occasion you'll see some of'em in places like this."

"There are others? Places where the fringe meets, I mean?"

"O'course. Th' Fringe takes all sorts," said the tattooed man. He held out his hand. "Call me Hastur."

"James," Harry said. He wanted to ask what the big man was, but knew it would be rude. The man quirked a shaved eyebrow but did not say anything.

"And officially you probably fall into the Fringe too," Elliot interjected, "as you seem to have left the wizarding world behind. Just so you know, Elspeth is a mundane through and through. She just thinks this scene is cool. Knows nothing of the secret faces."

"Oh Christ, did he use the secret faces line?"

"He did," Harry confirmed with a smile. Odd or not, Harry suspected he might like it here.