July/16/08
Rated M for Mature
Romance/Suspense/horror
Vampire Ties
Harry is bitten over the summer by an unsuspecting vampire desperate for a fix of blood. Instinctively Harry bites back, drinking the forbidden blood. Now Harry is tied into a world he never knew was so close to home. Another surprise; a familiar face is also a vampire. One more surprise. Three vampires at Hogwarts…what a blood-curdling tale. ^_^ . Sorry bad pun.
Chapter One
Harry Potter stood shivering in the brick ally way with a thin sweater that used to belong to Dudley when he was young. He had two old yogurt granola bars stuffed in his pockets and half of one clutched in his boney fingers. Which was barely enough to curve the hunger pains antagonizing his innards, if he was lucky Harry could play "homeless kid" and get a free meal from the church a couple of blocks away. But the time to get there, eat and return would be too long; it would alert Dudley to his absence since he'd be here any second.
Then, even by the most optimistic fool, he'd likely be strapped for taking the risk.
He bit into the chewy granola, a sharp pain shot from his thumb. Gggrr damn it. He nursed his poor digit. Harry gave up on the granola since it left a dry moldy taste on his tongue. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Growling at the crack in the wall in front of him. He grasped his sides tighter. He'll be here soon, He'll get back soon, Harry kept telling himself.
The chilling cold worked its way around Little Whything huddling in the darkest corners, and slithering into the deepest tunnels. Misting allyways and parks. A gentle lingering rumble rolled through the sky. Little plips echoed in the tunnels. Then came the constant hiss of rain. Harry's throat vibrated deeply. His body trembled violently. Fet up and no longer having feeling in his arse Harry swiftly abandoned his post, Dudley has enough sense to go home without him, especially in the rain.
His shoes briskly scuffed the pavement, it even sounded as if they were scuffing the walls over the hiss of the rain. His heart was beating too fast for comfort, he glanced over his shoulder. Nothing, except the shrinking lamp post and green dumpster sitting in the ally. Harry stopped. Was Dudley still planning to meet him at his post? He looked at the road just ahead of him, then back at his post.
Harry mentally kicked himself for allowing his feet to carry him back to his post without much protest. He sat with his behind practically freezing on the pavement. He readjusted himself, raising onto his heels.
How much time does it take for one to "go and do stuff he needs to do"? Harry exhaled gradually. A grating tug pulled in the back of his mind, as if it were saying just leave, Dudley isn't coming! He tricked you. And another irritating tug protested with What if he really is doing something and still expects to meet you? what'll happen if you leave your post? Harry knew the result of abandoning his post without Dudley. There was still a 50% chance Dudley was still out with his friends. Then the other 50% was he was in his room fanaticizing about Harry's muffled screams permeating through the floor boards.
Those were big odds to be messing with.
Harry raised his head, gazing into the endless rain clouds. The hiss of rain stretched out, the smell of wet pavement tingled Harry's nose, and the rain drops delighted his face with a gentle massage. He could feel the droplets gather. They'd slither down his neck, seeping into his already drenched sweater. Again a long relaxed sigh escaped the young man.
His chest expanded more leisurely.
His head began to feel airless.
As if he were slipping away into a world of darkness.
A world of painless dreams soon to come to pass
Now even his body felt airless.
Drifting into the deep menacing gentle turbulence of chaos.
His pale friend greeted him. This man…a good friend. He has always been, never not. His emptiness melted away when Harry saw his pale friend.
Instinctively Harry reached out his hand to shake his friend's hand. He grasped it gently followed by a single firm shake. He meekly smiled. The air in his chest blew away, there was no tension to hold back. Harry could fully inhale without being barked at. Though there were no eyes on his friend he continued to stare into the dents, that were supposed to be eye sockets.
At first the menacing figure struck Harry with fear; bald, pale blotchy skin, no facial features only shadows where normal features would be. He'd stand in front of Harry and reach forward. Harry would turn heel and run as fast his legs could carry him, yet the figure was persistent to follow him. Faceless and naked in the shadows of the dark abyss of Harry's mind. What was this creature and why does he haunt me so?
Over a year since Harry had first seen it, the creature continued to hide in the shadows and Harry grew less and less fearful. The creature had not done any harm. Now he was sporting thick black locks that brushed his shoulders, and a wide toothy mouth that seemed to have a sinister purpose. Yet he continued to hide away, only coming to greet Harry, shaking his hand and returning to his seat in the dark corners.
It listened to Harry's agonizing screams in the night. Harry recalled that he saw this creature whenever he was beaten. It was like it understood his pain, it even received the same cuts and bruises in the same places. It hid in the shadows because it is what Harry always desired; to be left alone in the darkness.
He stared at it with admiration that it stayed with him for so long. Harry assumed it would have left his dreams long ago, but it stayed and Harry began to feel attached to this odd creature. It comforted him in a way. It was his only friend who knew about his regular beatings and felt what he felt. They were both trapped in a dark turbulent world that used them. Harry felt a sinking in his stomach, he should let go of this creature so it can be free from Harry's pain. It didn't need to suffer like he did.
Harry's eyes wondered and he noticed more shadows behind his companion. Their red luminescent retinas sent chills prickling down Harry's spine. The pairs floated up and down, side to side and circling each other. Suddenly Harry was jerked forward, a hand clutched Harry's chin and forced him to look up, then searing pain erupted from his neck…
Harry woke with a start. He lost his balance on his toes, Harry scraped his hands on the dirty pavement to catch himself.
beep!…
Harry twisted his wrist. His watch read 9:00PM
Arrgh! Two hours ago Dudley was supposed to meet him. Maybe the living bag of lard was chuckling in his room, knowing Harry'd be strapped for being late for curfew. Harry braced himself against the wall, his legs…tingling pin-pricks flooded his nerves, they climbed slowly up his leg. Harry braced himself against the dumpster as he stumbled along. Harry found himself tripping over his own ankles longer than he should. ooff! He slapped the concrete hard.
He felt breath.
Cold.
Chilling.
Erotically evil.
A presence that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to lift, his skin prickle. His heart thumped, and barely able to move,lieing in the darkness. Nothing but the murmur of rain echoed in the empty ally. Throat dry, Harry pushed himself up off the pavement, placing a hand on the closest wall to steady himself. He glanced over his shoulder. Maybe he had just imagined this presence. Maybe there was no sigh on his neck, simply just the rain. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. After all, he just awoke from a nightmare that was still haunting his nerves.
Maybe he'll feel safer when he's back indoors.
Maybe.
He reached for a spot on the wall to pull himself forward so he can stumble home when he heard the soft pfts of foot steps on the pavement.
His throat closed on a silent scream.
Having adjusted to half-light, his eyes took in the dark ally way with only the tiny lamp post at the end of the passage, showing how far he'd come. Upon the glimmering, wet pebbles on the ground. Across the passage on the brick wall that held no other being than Harry. He could make out a poster but not the words. Probably describing the concert Dudley had been whine about to go to. Harry had wanted to go as well but they said it was too expensive to allow both boys to go.
So where had that sound come from? He glanced at the top of the walls. Beyond the summer night was wet and cold. In the rain there was nothing hiding, Harry could barely make out his dim shadow. There was no other long shadow creeping behind him.
Or was there?
He could feel something. Prickling in the back of his mind. Quivering his breathing, clogging his throat, his hands were trembling. He could hear soft determined footsteps in the ally way, smell a strong scent-a mixture of male musk and alcohol-catch a glimpse of a quick, darting shadow as it passed.
There was no quick exit. He was still far from the Dursleys. This person must have great satisfaction in surprising his victims, sneaking up on them while they were strolling alone in dark allies. Harry felt furious with himself to allow himself to fall asleep like he did. Harry could imagine him leaning down behind him. Ready to pin his hands on the back of his neck, reach around him and search for his wallet in his pockets, arousing him though he was petrified, pulling him tightly against him so Harry wouldn't escape, so he could feel trapped. He wasn't safe in the ally, nor was he safe when he returned to the Durselys.
Was it a better fate to stay in the ally?
How ironic was it that the Durselys were suppose to look after him…like "family".
'Go away', he muttered, his head pounding, his thoughts fragmented. 'Leave me alone!'
He blinked and tried to focus.
Was his attacker real?
Trembling he glanced over his shoulder again, training his eyes on the shadows. From the small sliver of darkness within the void something seemed to glimmer. A reflection. Eyes?
Oh, Merlin.
Maybe he had been watching him this whole time. Waiting.
Gooseflesh broke out on his skin. Should he cry out for someone, but if he did, would he be restrained, beaten…or worse. Think clearly Harry, you're a wizard! But the glittering eyes in the darkness watched him. A tall figure, looming in front of him. It was too dark to see his features but he knew a wicked smile was in place, his eyes glinting with a evil need.
'L-leave m-me', Harry begged, his voice small and stuttering as he backed up, his legs trembling.
'Leave you?', The man repeated in that low, amused, nearly hypnotic voice. 'Alone?' He chucked menacingly. 'Now I couldn't do that'
Humiliation washed over him. He inched backwards, away from his tormentor. What was happening to him was his own fault. If only he left his post when he should have. If only he listened to his first intuition to get away. But no he had to stay just in case Dudley would return. How stupid was he?
He felt them. Wrapping one arm around his middle, the other folded over it, Harry stood with lead legs.
Huff…Huff…Huff…
Hot, foul breath brushed Harry's face.
Maybe this was a nightmare, a horrible dream. He was in his room, under the covers and Dudley was breathing on him to wake him. He'd wake with a jerk and scream, then Dudley would tease him about screaming like a girl. And he'd become the joke of the week for all of Aunt Petunia's neighbors. Yes! Simply an ugly nightmare composed of vast intense proportions. Dreadful images formed by a young immature teenage boy.
'Your being a stupid child!' Uncle Vernon would say, shaking his large head. 'Just ridiculous! Monsters attacking you in the ally! Ridiculous!'
Tears burned in his eyes, his short fingernails running over rough cloth. Trying to wriggle out of the tight embraise. The breathing became more intense with grunts of effort to keep Harry still, the strong rank smell of booze invaded Harry's nose. Harry could feel a warmth grow on his thigh, becoming hard.
Harry wanted to crumble to the ground, to escape this nightmare.
Strong hands gripped each of Harry's arms and forced them on the wall by his sides. Was there more attackers? No Harry's body felt similar to that of a body bind curse. Though his arms didn't jump to his sides stiffly. He was slightly relaxed, but pinned to the wall. His first attacker continued to roam Harry's body; roughly rubbing his coarse hands up and down his torso. Harry groaned. 'Let me go' Harry whispered. A wet tongue slithered its way up Harry's throat. The man smacked his lips.
'You smell delicious' The voice hissed.
Then he placed a hand under Harry's left cheek and pushed his head exposing Harry's neck to perhaps a knife. Was he going to die a rape and murder victim? The great Harry Potter murdered in an alleyway, too frightened to weald his wand to defend himself. What has become of us all with the chosen one dead?
Harry felt two pressure points on his neck, then searing pain. He could feel hot liquid slither down his collar bone, and sucking on his skin. Wetness licked around his wounds. Intense searing pain pulsed through the rest of Harry's body, he couldn't bare the pain to move. Harry's voice could not emit enough sound to scream. Only whimpers squeaked from the Great Harry Potter.
He could no longer feel his legs, though he could just see the attackers knee at his side, which Harry assumed the other knee was on his left side. He was aware of something hard pressing against his lower abdomen. His fingers tingled, and his sight was clouded by tiny stars. His head felt light and airy, as if he were about to faint. Yes. This was the way the Great Harry Potter was to die. Attacked in a dark alley, by a deranged rapist who got off on biting his victims and draining them of their blood before adoring their bodies.
No.
He will not die here.
Breathing rapidly Harry found a burst of strength in his arms. His forearm smacked the man's temple, ripping him from Harry's neck. Harry screamed from the pain. This didn't phase him he mounted his attacker, he quickly pulled out his wand from his pocket and pointed the tip at the man's head.
The man shouted something, a flash of blue light burst from Harry's hand and his wand flew out of sight. Harry bared his teeth, in desperation and anger. Harry grabbed the man's shoulders, lowered his head and clenched his teeth on the man's neck. A horrendous agonizing scream emitted from the man exposing his irregularly large blood stained incisors.
Harry shook and ripped as much bloody skin he could from the creature's collar bone. Hot blistering liquid leaked down his throat. Harry sputtered and coughed.
Choking.
Suffocating.
Dieing?
His throat felt like it closed up. His stomach burned. He felt nauseated, he was going to be sick. But if nothing can go down, nothing will come up. Harry might choke on his own vomit. Harry tried to cough again. A sick stifled sound came out.
'You idiot!' The creature shouted. Harry could see he was holding his neck, yet he acted like nothing had happened. It removed it's hand and there was nothing but scar tissue. Harry's vision blurred. Terror buried deep into his soul. Confused and panic stricken, he blinked rapidly, trying to think.
You tried, at least you died trying.
Harry hastily stood on his legs, still trying to breathe. His vision was engulfed with stars, it should be any second now. Where he'd be dead before he hits the pavement. His body would be found in the morning by some hobo, and somewhere in the wizarding world, Voldemort would be celebrating and his friends would be mourning.
Next thing Harry could recall was more liquid being forced down his throat and a hushed voice whispering to him. There was no rank smell of alcohol, instead a soft masculine scent that allowed Harry to close his eyes and float away into the bitterness of rainy clouds of Saturday night.
