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Title: Watching Clouds
Chapter: {001} The Introduction, The Plans, The Move.
Story Rating: M.
Chapter Rating: K.
Warnings: Slash- JC(W)/HP; Gray-Dark-Harry; Smart-Mature- Harry; Past HP-Many; Manipulative-Dumbledore; Ron-Hermione-Ginny-Mrs. Weasley Bashing; NO Bella. I repeat, NO Bella; Power-Hungry Dumbledore; Vampire Biting; Protective- obsessive/possessive Jasper; Edward-Alice Pairing (right from the begging, Jasper was never with her); Stalker-ish Edward (he really just wants to jump anyone that sings to him, doesn't he?); Possible Dark Themes.
Author's Note: Enjoy?
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"… What?" A voice blurted out, a look of disbelief on his slightly tanned, handsome face.
He blinked, trying to process the information that had been so bluntly given to him just moments ago. His eyes narrowed, quickly coming out of his surprised state as he saw the almost amused nod he got in return from grandfatherly old man seated behind a rather large desk. His lips twitched, just begging to let out a sneer at the arrogant old man, but he restrained himself. It wouldn't do to be reckless right now.
Though the older was unaware of it, he was rather good at reading minds, whatever limiter placed on him had disappeared when he had gone through his inheritance (when he was 16, so last year). He leaned back against the chair, folding his hands on his lap and eyeing the other carefully. At first, he was rather weary of trying to read the old man's thoughts, partially afraid to get caught and party scared of what he would find. But he had done so anyway and to this day he was grateful for that moment he had decided to do so.
The war had ended, and Voldemort had been killed. And with his end, Harry's 'purpose' had ended as well, or at least the was what Dumbledore thought. He had been using him since the very beginning; manipulating since even before he was born. He had been enraged, but had quickly plotted of ways to get the old man away. If he were to just kill him, it would be bad. He was still very much adored by the general public, none of the oblivious witch and wizards knowing of the old man manipulations. It made him further enraged, but he knew he just had to wait patiently. But it seemed the old man just gave him his own opportunity.
He resisted the very strong urge to smirk rather maliciously.
"Harry, this is a wonderful opportunity my boy. Not only would you get a vacation, but you would be able to experience Muggle school! And of course I have chosen a place that is very small in numbers. I know how you hate crowds." he said with a grandfatherly tone, blue eyes twinkling madly.
Harry continued to stare at the old wizard in front of him, barely hiding his growing annoyance and anger. Dumbledore sure had some nerve! Bloody hell, he was going to kill this man the next time he saw him if he wasn't careful (or maybe he would kill him now…no, bad thoughts!)
He carefully schooled his face into one of thought. Honestly, he actually did want to go. But he was well aware of Dumbledore's reasons behind this sudden 'vacation'.
The war had made him grow up, especially after the fall of Voldemort. While everyone believed that was the end of the war, it was just the beginning for Harry. Voldemort had done a lot of damage, and they had to rebuild a lot. Of course, the fact that he was nearly dead didn't matter. Not only that, but Dumbledore seemed quite determined to make sure Harry didn't progress anymore. He obviously felt threatened by his presence and magic if he was going to such great lengths.
He sighed aloud. He calmed his emotions quickly, and strengthened his barriers hiding his emotions and thoughts from the nosy headmaster. How the old man thought he was the Light Lord was beyond his comprehension.
Sighing again he nodded blankly, trying his best not to hex the old man in front of him as he watched a wide smile split the old man's face. He certainly hadn't missed the way the old man's eyes glinted in accomplishment, but Harry wasn't going to let the man's plans come true. He obviously was going to train while he was there, just in a new atmosphere. Of course, he wasn't going to tell Dumbledore that.
Well, it wasn't like anything interesting was going to happen at a muggle school anyway, right?
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"My, my what do we have here? Studying a bit Angel?" two voices inquired, picking up where the other left off. Harry's lips split into a small smile, still reading his book but sparing a quick glance in their direction over the enormous book.
"Yes, I am attending Muggle school soon. The old man may check my grade, probably to see if I really just attending school since I said I would study hard. I'm studying now so that I can train when I get there. And I'm pretty sure this book is more than a bit." he drawled, still reading the book, though his lips twitched as he heard their whispered snickers.
"Perhaps." They said together, in amused tones respectively.
Harry sighed in mock annoyance as two sets of arms came from behind him, wrapping around his lithe form tightly. He settled the book in his lap and leaned back against the two chests, sighing as he did so.
"Maybe you should take a break, Angel. We don't want you burning out any time soon." They said, and even though his back was to them he knew that they both had worried expressions pulling at their freckled faces. He sighed, pulling away from the embrace and ran a hand through his rather long hair, glancing at them.
The war had changed them so much. Both had shoulder length red hair, pulled back in a short ponytail, a few pieces framing their faces. Fred had a rather long scar from his left cheek that went down to his color bone and George had one that went through his right eyebrow.
He closed his eyes for a moment, sadness crashing into him.
They were hurt trying to protect him.
While everyone thought they were dead, they were not. They had been in bad shape after he defeated Voldemort, and so was he. But he knew they didn't want to go back, they weren't even trying to live. They had enough, just like him. But Harry was too stubborn to die, and he was too stubborn to let them die either.
They both didn't want to go home, since they didn't exactly like their family's part in the war, so he hid them. And he was glad. Their family didn't seem too sad over their loss, which made his magic spike angrily. He sighed again, trying to calm himself.
He hated war.
But he didn't know anything other than war.
How else was he supposed to live?
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The twins glanced at each other, worried expressions etched into their war aged faces.
They were both immensely grateful to their little Angel for saving them, even when they thought they didn't want it. They had just been so… tired.
So tired of fighting with their family.
So tired of tiptoeing around Dumbledore.
So tired of fighting.
So tired of death.
…And so ready for their own.
But when they were finally ready for it, the blackness closing in and the cold whispers of death right next to them, their hands clasped together, they saw him: their little Angel. His long wavy black hair was blowing around his face almost angrily, obscuring it for small moments at a time. His honey bronzed skin glistening in sweat and blood, and his ripped and tattered robes, blooded and dirtied. But his eyes were what made them wake up. His beautiful emerald eyes, staring at them with such a broken expression, shimmering with unshed tears but flaming with determination as he stared at them… they just couldn't do it.
Memories flashed past their mind, reminding them of what they loved, rather than what they hated. And in the end, they couldn't do it. They couldn't give up.
And they recovered, beautifully in fact. And it was all thanks to their Angel.
Their eyes watched Harry as he sighed and closed his eyes, his brilliant emerald eyes hiding from view. His long onyx hair flowed past his shoulders, brushing his lower back. His skin glowed under the light of torches, making his scars all the more visible, especially the one right down the side of his face. It started at his temple and went all the way down to his chest, crossing right over his previous lightning bolt scar. Even with it he still looked beautiful. They had enjoyed the endless pokes at his prettiness.
But at the same time, he wasn't feminine in any way. His body was laced with muscle, his stomach hard and taunt. His arms and legs were toned with lithe muscles, though he was still on the short side at only 5'4. But he looked much older than he was. A teenager: a seventeen year old kid.
But his eyes… his eyes were so much older. And it hurt sometimes.
They quickly made their way over to him once more, wrapping him in their embrace once again, tightening it as he tried to push them away half-heartedly. Their matching brown eyes shined with fierce protectiveness, and Harry sighed, sagging into their hold. He knew it was pointless to push them away.
He needed them.
And they needed him.
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A breathy gasp ripped through perfectly sculpted female lips.
The woman swayed dangerously, quickly putting her hand to the tree next to her to steady herself. Her golden eyes were wide, her breathe coming out in short spurts. Her face was shadowed from the night, the forest trees creaking as a cold wind past by, playfully lifting her short cut dark hair. The woman shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't really need to, but she just felt so weak all of sudden.
She walked slowly, easily ignoring the loud pitch whistle from the distance, most likely from her family, telling her it was time to head back. Her eyes were still glazed in thought as she stopped suddenly and leaned on the nearest tree, her back sliding down until she was sitting on the dirt ground.
That vision.
That boy.
A small smile made its way on her face, happiness but sadness as well shone in her warm golden gaze. He would change everything…
But those changes were needed.
Especially for her brother.
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3 Weeks Later.
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"So I can assume you're all ready?" the old wizard inquired, his blue eyes twinkling furiously.
The teen opposite him simply nodded; his face blank.
"I have made all the preparations, Headmaster." He said rather blandly.
The old man nodded happily, a smile on his aged lips.
"Have you sent the owl to the school to inform them of your transfer?"
Harry just looked at him blankly, a rather violent twitch in his eye that the headmaster obliviously (or not?) was unaware of.
"If I sent an owl, Headmaster, they would have shooed it away or shot it. No I did not; I simply called them and mailed my necessary information for my transfer."
"Ah, such strange ways, Muggles have." The old wizards chirped, sitting in his large chair behind his desk. Harry simply raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed." He drawled, not at all interested.
"Well do take care, my boy. And remember to have fun." He said happily with a rather large smile.
Harry smirked as black smoke slowly rising from the ground and curling around his standing form.
"It's Hadrian Black now, Headmaster. And oh, I will. Trust me." He said, his words carrying through the air as the black smoke wrapped around him. His voice echoed a bit as his body disappeared, and Albus shivered a bit. He hated that.
But as quickly as his smile left it returned, stronger than ever.
Now, he has begun the final steps of his plans.
Soon, if all went according to plan, (and obviously it would; it has been for centuries without a hitch hasn't it?) then soon Harry Potter would know no more.
Because really; if he wanted to just get rid of the boy temporarily then he could have sent the boy anywhere. No, this town was not random, nor was it normal enough to be considered safe. He smiled and hummed a cheerful tune.
After-all, this muggle town had vampires.
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I hope you enjoyed! Please review?