Summary:
A deal is made. The vampires have come out of hiding to join the war. Which side are they on? Join Harry as he travels through his final years(5-7) and learns more these possible adversaries, or allies.
Ch1 :Threads of a deal
It was foggy outside, except the dark shadows that kept passing through the moving hedgerows. The images of the graveyard kept passing over and over in Harry's mind. He could have saved him. If only her were quicker. The pale face and blank eyes of Cedric accused him of his failure. The buzzing of the express kept waking him from his on-and-off sleep. The nightmares plagued him; leaving him with indecision of what was better: should he sleep or lie awake? If he were awake then he wouldn't be guarded by a barrier separating him from the darkness. If he slept the darkness would still consume him. His only solace was right in front of him: Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, whom he could share few golden hours with. And the ever present scent of Ginny Weasley: her floral scent still tempting him. God he loved that smell; he was so tempted to reach out and run his hands through her hair…but he couldn't she wasn't his. She would be in danger.
Long gone were the thoughts of her being just Ron's younger sister. She had started growing in her own; or rather he started to notice more of her existence. The only obstacle now other then his poor destiny was Dean Thomas. She claimed to have dumped Micheal at the end of summer and was keeping contact with Dean and they seemed to have been doing really well over the past couple of weeks, so says she.
Hermione and Ron were playing a game of wizard's chess, in Ron's favor.
"Oi Hermione! Do you really have to do that?" Ron protested.
"Yes Ronald. Honestly what are the house elves going to wear during the winter? Not silly, nasty, dirt rags." Hermione wrinkled her nose.
"But we were in the middle of a game!" Ron grumbled.
"I took a break. I'm tired of being obliterated in a barbaric game of nonsense." Hermione said.
"But that's the point." Ron smirked.
Harry tuned out the rest and looked at Ginny who sat across from him. She was writing in a journal. He took a privileged, longing look at her gorgeous face, long auburn golden locks spread delicately on the sides of her head. She looked up; warm brown orbs finding green orbs; Harry looked away hastily; he could feel his face burn up. He gulped nervously. He wondered what she would think if she knew that he fancied her. He was afraid of her possible response. He was history, she had Dean.
"I need some air." Harry said getting up, and out the door. This caused a curious glance from Ron and a knowing glance from Hermione.
"Oi! What for?" Ron's voice said. He could feel her presence and tried to ignore it, his mouth went dry and his head was slightly pounding, partly from confusion. Why was she so concerned? There was a room down from the hall that was always empty and had an open window. He entered it and leaned over a nearby rail that held him from falling over in to the moving tracks.
The images flew through his mind over and over again. He could feel his palms sweating heavily and he feared he might slip, but part of him didn't really care. His forehead grew really hot, and he felt his scar might actually begin to bleed. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and knew from the touch (which sent shivers down his spine), and her floral scent that she had followed him, but why?
The graveyard, empty eyed Cedric. Accusing eyes, those that had died because of him; risking their necks because he had been too slow to stop Voldemort. The floral scent was intoxicating as he realized he had fallen; and right into her arms.
"Hang on there Harry. I've got you." Ginny said. She probably was trying to sound braver than she felt.
"Yeah. I'm fine," Harry said, guarded. It was not her burden to bear. Suddenly the tracks stopped. He felt a certain coldness that could only be identified to dementors. He also felt a different more ethereal darkness; one that couldn't be identified with Voldemort, unless he learned to mask his presence from the scar. The lights went out. He could hear the faint screaming of his mother; her pleas for his survival. Her determination to add herself to the climbing body count, for his safety.
"Why are they here?" Harry asked. His voice could barely be heard even by himself.
"I don't know. No, it wasn't my fault! I'm sorry!" Ginny wailed. She probably was being plagued by her experiences in the chamber. He tried reaching out to tell her everything was going to be alright but his limbs barely were functional. He barely was able to pull out his wand. He realized he was lying on the cold floor, as Ginny was writhing on the floor, and in a fetal position.
"Expecto …patronum," Harry rasped, straining for a memory of himself flying at Quidditch. The female screaming consumed him and soon everything went black…
--
He could hear voices. Distant. Like this was some sort of distorted dream. He wasn't sure what to make of it. They weren't Death Eaters. Though they wore robes, well some of them didn't. One in particular wore ordinary clothing with a sword in a leather looking sheath.
"He is waking. What do we do with him? The Dark Lord will want him to be put in binds and silenced. But Dumbledore offered his allegiance with a promise of peace." A nearby growl issued from Harry's right.
"We have been neutral for quite awhile. But it is time to choose a side. But it is up to General Peter on what we must do. What say you?" The question was directed at someone of high importance.
"I have spoken to Voldemort and have agreed with him that I attend Hogwarts as a student. This will allow more information to be imparted then through a simple confrontation where information is more properly guarded." The voice had come from someone who could be no younger than a fifteen year old. Harry never got a good look at him for he had been blindfolded. (Mere minutes after he woke.)
"If this is so then I'll part and speak with the Higher Council on these matters." A high voice said.
Movement. The sound of chairs colliding. People leaving and the feel of rough hands on Harry's neck. His blind fold had been removed, but no one seemed to be in the room anymore. The face of Peter Pettigrew appeared and Harry thought for a minute that he was hallucinating.
"You're coming with me!" Peter muttered, with a smirk of delight. Then the painful toll of side along apparition. They arrived right outside of what looked like Hogsmeade and Harry mind jolted, where was everyone? Was Ginny safe?
"Peter! Where is everyone? I should kill you right now!" Harry said, anger starting to flood through his veins. Peter was the reason why Sirius was still imprisoned. Harry pulled out his wand ready to curse him (didn't they disarm him?)
"Ah. You wouldn't want to do that. Not if I were you." Peter said; he had a smirk on his face.
"Why shouldn't I?" Harry snapped.
"You really should listen to Severus every once in awhile," Peter said cryptically.
"Where is everyone? Where is Ginny? Is she safe?" Harry said, pressing his wand in on Peter's face.
Peter had a knowing smirk, and just apparated on the spot. Harry let out a frustrated groan. He had to know she was safe. What wasn't he telling him? And who were those people?
There was a sudden rustle nearby in a bush. Harry looked to see who the intruder was. He froze. There in the bushes was the blonde, tall form of Lucius Malfoy.
"Potter. We meet again." Said Lucius in his lazy drawl. Lucius had pulled out his staff and looked like he would curse Harry into an oblivion.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry said. Though however strong the spell may have been it bounced right off of Malfoy.
"You have much to learn," Malfoy smirked lazily.
There was a sudden hiss as a purple wave sent Malfoy colliding with the wall. He was knocked unconscious. Harry looked to see where the savior was and came face to hood with a distant cloaked individual. The only thing giving away its may-have-been identity was its dark, emerald eyes, which the night gave it an eerie glow. The phantom threw what looked like a boot at Malfoy's unconscious form and Malfoy disappeared. It then threw a ring at Harry which with his Seeker reflexes he caught it easily. He then found himself being spun onto Hogwarts grounds. He looked for the phantom but it had disappeared along with Hogsmeade. He groaned. The attack might make itself to the Daily Prophet. He got up and walked up the grounds to the giant wide doors to the main entrance to the castle. He walked through them and came face to face with Severus Snape. His blood turned cold.
"Ah. Potter what a way to make a grand entrance. Fifty points from Gryffindor should do you some good. Oh and by all means walk through the Great Hall with that pose you've been practicing." Snape sneered. He hated him. Harry seethed inwardly and thought of so many things he'd like to do to him.
"The Sorting's about to start. Let's have Potter the Great, walk in his dirty forte."
That struck Harry as odd. He never realized how dirty or barren he must look. He walked past Snape trying hard not to give in to his anger, and right into the Great Hall. He was met by gasps of horror and stares of disgust, and pity. He felt dirty.
