The Trio Who Returned, Chapter 01
By Technomad
Hardly daring to believe his luck, Amycus Carrow crept closer. He had managed to do something that no other Death Eater had ever been able to do...ambush and kill not just Harry Potter, but his two closest friends!
He had caught them off guard; they had just come back to London from Little Whinging, having bid farewell to Harry's horrible Muggle relatives. How any wizard could have any goodwill for Muggles, relatives or no, was beyond Amycus' comprehension. He hadn't crept close to overhear, although he had known where Harry Potter would be. That had been the information he needed to lay his ambush.
And now...now he had succeeded! The westering sun painted the tops of the nearby buildings red, but the narrow alley in which Potter and his friends lay was dark. Casting a quick spell to improve his vision, Amycus leaned down to make sure that his spell had worked. It had been an experimental spell, designed to suck all life out of its targets. One of its big advantages over the Killing Curse was that it was experimental, and the Ministry, at least as far as the Death Eaters knew, didn't have ways to track its use.
Stooping, Amycus felt Harry Potter's neck. He had been trained as a Healer before taking the Dark Mark, and he knew what to feel for. Sure enough, there was no sign of a pulse, and Harry's flesh was cooling rapidly. Looking around, the Death Eater saw no signs of Muggles around, so he risked using his wand for some light. Prying open one of Harry's eyes, he flashed the light, and hissed in pleasure when the sudden brightness caused no contraction of the pupil. That, he knew, was one of the surest signs of death. Not wanting to have the Muggles catch him in this filthy alley, Amycus Apparated away, to a nearby Death Eater safe-house.
With a smile, Amycus began to think. Wouldn't it help to have some sure proof? If I came in with that annoying boy's head, not to mention his two friends' heads, nobody could doubt that they're really dead!
The wish was father to the deed; in a few minutes, he had Apparated back to the alley. This part of London was nearly deserted. It had been a perfect place to set an ambush.
Overhead, the stars were beginning to come out, although the glow of London made them hard to see. The bodies lay where they had fallen, eyes glazed and sprawling in the debris of the alley. Taking out his knife, Amycus bent down and gripped Harry Potter's hair.
The next thing he knew, Harry had him by the throat in an inhumanly strong grip.
Wiping blood from his lips, Harry looked down at the dead Death Eater. "Well, this is a turn-up, isn't it?"
Ron was shaking his head, confused. "What happened, mate? Last I remember, we were heading to Grimmauld Place; now I'm waking up, feeling like I could wrestle Hagrid. And…what's this on my mouth?" He licked his lips, then wiped at his face, staring at the red smear on his hand with dawning recognition. "Bloody hell...this is blood, isn't it?"
"Yes. After I took care of this Death Eater, I smeared blood on your mouths to revive you."
"You smeared what? And...why can I see in the dark? It should be blacker than Snape's heart in this alley, but I can see just fine."
"Ron, think. I know it hurts, but try." Hermione's voice was a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "While you're doing it, run your tongue over your teeth."
Ron did as Hermione suggested, his eyes widening in shock. "Bloody hell...my teeth! All of a sudden, I've got fangs!"
Harry and Hermione smiled at him, showing their own razor-sharp canine teeth. "And what does this suggest to you, Ron?" Hermione asked gently.
"I'm...we're vampires!" Now that the last piece of the puzzle was in place, Ron visibly struggled with the idea for a second. Then he smiled widely. "Wicked!"
"Wicked or no," said Harry, looking around, "we'd best make ourselves scarce before this bugger's friends come looking for him. Twelve Grimmauld Place is close by. I own it, free and clear, and nobody can come there without my leave."
Shortly afterward, the three friends were walking up the front steps of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Harry gestured, the doors opened wide, and they stepped into the front hall.
At their arrival, Madame Black's portrait awoke, screeching "Mudblood-lovers! Filth! Blood-traitors..." only to subside into terrified silence as the trio turned and stared at her appraisingly.
"Madame Black," said Hermione, almost gently, "I wouldn't even mention the word 'blood' if I were you. That Sticking Charm that holds your picture to the wall isn't unbreakable, and, if we were…annoyed…enough, any of us could literally pull that wall apart." When the portrait nodded acquiescence, she turned and followed her friends to the front sitting room.
Once they were settled in chairs, they looked at each other. In the light of the lamps, the changes in them were easy to see, at least for friends who had known each other so well for so long. Their skins were pale, almost pasty-white, and their expressions had become feral, red-tinged eyes gleaming with predatory intensity.
"Well, Harry, you did say this was a 'turn-up,'" said Hermione, after a few minutes had passed in silence. "I must admit, this wasn't something I ever expected to happen to me, but now that it has, there's no sense crying about it."
"But how am I going to explain this to my Mum?" cried Ron. "I can just hear that conversation! 'Oh, hi, Mum! No, I'm not going into the Ministry after we defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...I'm going to be a creature of the night!'" His laughter had more than a touch of hysteria in it.
"We can keep this to ourselves, for now. We're all seventeen, and since Dumbledore…died…we've been operating by ourselves, hunting for Horcruces." Harry looked down. "I tried to tell you two that I would be doing this myself…"
Faster than the eye could follow, Hermione was standing in front of Harry, her face twisted in a bestial snarl, as she hauled him to his feet. "We've been over this, Harry James Potter, about a thousand times, and I, for one, am sick of it!" She shook an unresisting Harry back and forth like a rag doll. "You blame yourself whenever something happens to one of our friends. Well...are Ron and I your house-elves? Are we under the Imperius Curse?" At his headshake, she shoved him back into his chair, leaning in closely. "We made our own decisions to follow where you led! That was why we went to the Ministry, and why we're here now! Quit acting like you're some sort of...Dark Lord! We have free will and made our choices freely!"
After a minute, Harry dropped his eyes, acknowledging that she was right. Satisfied, she let him drop. Ron's eyes went wide. "Bloody hell, Hermione! How strong are you now?"
Hermione looked puzzled. "I don't know, Ron. We'll need to experiment and find out just what our powers are. He-Who-Must…er, V-v-voldemort…" she struggled to say the name, "gave us advantages that he doesn't even know we have." She looked speculative. "I wouldn't be surprised to find that there's a book somewhere here that tells just what we can and can't do."
"What's wrong, girl? Come here, Hedwig, there's a good owl!" On the roof of Twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry tried coaxing Hedwig to come to him, to no avail. Hooting frantically, the snowy owl flapped her wings, soaring up into the night sky. "Ron! Can I borrow Pigwidgeon?" Harry called over his shoulder. "I need to send McGonagall a letter, and Hedwig's not cooperating!"
But Ron had no better luck. When he tried to get the tiny owl to take Harry's letter, Pigwidgeon retreated, screeching, finally taking flight in a flurry of wings. "What ails those owls?" asked Ron, his face creasing with puzzlement. He opened his hand, letting a few owl treats fall on the roof. "Even owl treats didn't work!"
The two friends went back downstairs. "Hermione?" Harry asked. Their female friend was buried in a pile of dusty books they had scoured from the shelves. "Hermione, we have a problem..."
"Never mind that! Look what I can do!" Standing, Hermione threw her arms out, and suddenly she was gone. In her place, a bat fluttered around the room, before turning back into Hermione. Then, before her friends could react, she transformed into a ferocious-looking wolf, and from a wolf, into a rat, and finally, into a cloud of mist, before returning to her own form with a big smile on her face. "It's like the Animagus transformation, but so much simpler! Come on, boys, try it with me!"
Intrigued, Harry and Ron did as she told them to do: "Close your eyes and concentrate on being a bat...or a wolf, or a rat!" Soon all three were happily flying around the room, chasing each other and having a wonderful time. When they stopped playing, the birds' odd behavior had been forgotten.
By that time, dawn was coming on, and they headed down into the basement. When the sun peeped over the roofs of London, the three friends were lying side by side, eyes closed and unmoving, safely far from the dangerous light of day.
END Chapter 01
