Harry Potter and his son's unusual love
By: MidoriGlow
Edited by:
Rated: R (just to be safe)
Disclamer: Harry Potter is the sole property of one J.K. Rowling and in a case Warner Brothers Inc.
A.N.: I'm just writing this by ear. (makeing up as go)(except for one part... kind of... you'll see) I'm to lazy after getting hurt at school and then hurting myself even more in gym and karate(sp?), I don't have alot of time after all that stuff to make a story line anyway. So yeah...awkword silence Well unto the story!
Glancing backwords, the whites of his eyes falshing, he wonders what it was he heard rustling in the brush. A few leaves blow out of his way, but the rest crunch under feet as he hurried forward on the path. Trees press in around him, the branches seem to grab at
his clothes. It is darker here in the forest where he is lost, and the sky above merely taunts him, growing purple-grey with the onset of twilight.
A clearing, a blessed clearing apperes like a secret passage out of the forest. Yet he hesitates as he confronts the castle befor him with his stare. Old as knights, made of
stone, ivy climbing its walls, the place seems uninhabited. Not a single light shines within the
dark windows. There exudes an air of being cared for, however, exhibited by the old concrete
urns on each side of the shallow steps leaching to the door. Shrubbery, clipped in the shapes of guardian lions, grow in huge pots. He hears that sound again, something following him. His feet take him past the lions.
They rustle in the wnd as he goes between them, but can breathe again. Nothing has attacked
him, backwords glance reveals nothing on the path.
His attention is startled by torches blazing on either side of the door. Strange, he doesn't recall seeing them at the edge of the forest. The door befor him is old, darkened with the varnish of time. It is nearly twice the height of a normal human being and rounded at the top in the fashion of the Normans.
Drawing his cloak tight and around himself, moving closer,
he notices the knocker. The bronze face if of the sun, and in Sol's mouth is the crescent moon
knocker, waiting to reflect daylight into night, bidding his soul to enter...
His hand is encased in a burgandy-colored, fur-hied suede glove, yet it trembles as he raises the moon shaped like the scythe blade in Death's merciless grip.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
A man responds to his need, opening the door on well-oiled hinges, opening it as if it wasn't wighed down by time. He abhores the sound of a creaky door.
He gazes upon a tall, slender man with blondish hair, his face shadowed yet translucent, seemingly made solid by the objects behind...
He sees clearly where he stands beneathe the blazing torches. The fog, exhaled by the very cobblestones, silently slips in by his feet. Save pale skin and fair head, he still can't see much of him.
Is that a glow in his eyes just now? He wonders.
"Please come in. We humbly welcome you."
A lady appears behing him as she wearliy cross the threshhold. She is petite in black velvet. Some sort of jewlery sparkles on the bodice of her gown. She has dark waves of long hair.
"Welcome, visiting stranger. I am lady Evangeline," she announces, "or would you
rather call me countess?" As she smiles, does the light reflect off gleaming points of white fanges?
"And this is Lord Trufort."
The man nods as the countess glances back just once, a soul-pircing glance.
Many kindred know her as Countess Sigula, though she has had other names in her centuries of existance.
Another gentalman, dark haired like the lady, appears behind her. He wears black
and his waistcoat is also studded with marcasites flashing like black diamonds of the night.
"And this is my beloved, Louis Dumond," She purrs, smiling at his flotage visage.
"Please unfasten the fog on your cloak and warm yourself beside the fire," he invites
in a voice which sounds human, indicating the way to a comfey parlor... where an eerie etherea waltz plays on the old turntable, lulling him from the thought
are there others here?
The lady laughs. She puts her hand on her beloved's shoulder, and asks as she looks into his eye:
"Doesn't this remind you of Frank Langella dancing with Kate Neggigan?" befor they whisk themselves off into the waltz.
The boy's hosts have a deep red wine for him to drink an excellent vintage, and a bit of diversion in the body of words and images that take him from his world into theirs-
which path he follows in the maze of his life?
"Stop this! Leave the poor Mortal alone!" A strong, cold and awfuly familure voice opinions from a darkened corner.
The boy whips around to face the voice. He peers into the darkness making out an
outline of a male figure with his piercing Blue eyes. His hand clumsily lets go of the silver
glass, and sends the blood-like liqued splattering to the ground.
"P-professor Snape?" quivers the voice of the young boy.
"Five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. Nothing gets past you." the voice drips with sarcasam as Severus Snape, feared Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry, steps out from the shadowd corner.
The lady and Sir stop the waltz but make no attempt to stop the eerie music. The lord bows to Snape as he walks mencily tworads his pupil. Countess steps infront of the boy with her arms sticking out at her side. A stern scowel on her face.
"Severus, he is only a boy. And a student of yours. You have always compalined about his house. Why not just dispose of him?" asked the Sir
"Yes, you wouldn't have to deal with him." Countess purrs as she moves behind the young boy and wraps arms around him.
The boy stiffens in the Entrancess' arms. Countess grins with her fangs as she looks down at the him.
"For your information, I do have a name. And I am not in the mood to join the passovers. So if you will kindly let me go, I shall leave not mention anything to those of the living, or otherwise."
The three adults look to the boy as the Countess releases her grip on the boy's shoulders. Snape looks over him, comprehending who this boy is and what he had done with the quite, shy, troublemaker Antwan Potter? He motions for the Lord to an old oakwood cabinet near the turntable.
Lord Trufort walks to the cabinet and opens up to reveal it stocked with all diffrent kinds of Potions. Antwan only raises an eyebrow when he sees the varities. Trufort grabs a clear liqued and hands it to Snape. Antwans's eyes go wide as he relises what it is.
He turns quickly and with grace jumps over a chair and trys to make a run for it. But two burly looking men appear just as he is out the Parlor door. They grabe him by his arms and
legs, dragging him back to the adults.
"Let go of me! I wont talk!" Screamed Antwan as he struggled in their brusing grips.
The two forced his mouth open as Snape poured the containts down his throat. He was confused now. Why would he be afraid of Vetrisisum? He had always taken it during the school year.
Perhaps he did something very embarssing to his ego and is tryign to protect it? Ohhh, this will be fun. Thought Snape with a nine year olds gleee.
"Now Tell me your name."
"Antwan Lucius Potter,"
The adults rose a brow at this.
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen"
"When's your birthday?"
"Augest 24, 2007"
"Where do you live?"
Scilence graced their ears.
They all looked to the boy. He was trembling, looking as if he was fighting the potion and losing.
"Where do you live Potter!" Snapped Snape getting imaptient
"I-I... Klarbrunn Manor." He chocked out.
Countess and Sir Dumound gasped. Trufort stared in disbelif. Snape glared in confusment.
Was he telling the truth? He had to be, he brewed the potion himself. Unless he has underestimated him and he is resisting?
"You are not a Klarbrunn. Why do you live there? And why are you so far away?" asked Dumound
"I-I... I do live there. I'm a distant relative of the Klarburn's. And... we were going to the Wizards fair when I got lost looking for a certion body of water." He gasped eyes wide with hatred and fear.
Antwan looked up at his Potions professor with the hatred clearly directed to him. Never did he see so much intense emotion directed from his student, even if it was one of the unliking kind.
"I could have you put in Azkaban for this. Illegal mistreatmenmt to a minor."
"You are barely a minor. And who says anyone is ever going to know?" The countess replied with a mocking voice.
The boy glared at the countess. "I say."
"Oh realy. And who died and gave you authority?"
"I-...ermm... None. But I still say."
The six adults looked upon the boy and smirked. He was quite amuseing to say the least.
Severus Snape was a bit baffled at the boy's back bone. In fact he thought him to be acting alot like his father. The only difference in their appearence would be the Strikeing Blue eyes with no glasses.
"Now, now Mr. Potter. Don't get too huffy. You might have an attack." He said with a small smirk.
The boy's reaction was sudden and he seemed to close into himself. Severus found this a bit intriguing. Have they found out what is causing his attacks? Perhaps so and now he's being careful...
"Mr. Potter... ermm... yes, well. You'll have to stay here untill the fallowing full moon. That's when the grounds will change and you can go back home. We will send notice to your fathers."
Everyone in the room stared at the Potions Master. Antwan was a bit baffled as he knew that his professor dispised him and would rid him of his exsitance any chance he got; plus the stuttering was very uncharteristic of the normaly calm and cold vampire. And the five others didn't know what to think of their long time companion. He never invited anyone into the home without eating them after.
Okay, so what do think? That first part when Antwan is in the woods is actually borrowed from my friend Kiley. She wrote it about four years ago and I've been dying to add onto it. So now I've gotton my chance. yay!
Anywho, Please read and review. I would really appreciate it. And I'll award a cookie and perhaps a personal favor to anyone who guess' who Antwan's parents are. (One should be realy easy)
Thanks!
Bye.
Love,
Midori Somah
Oh! P.S.
If anyone wants to be my beta or if anyone has any idea's let me know please. You can e-mail me or just reply in a review. Thanks again!