Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Things you recognise come from JK Rowling or the authors of vampire novels that I've read before.


Harry Potter and the Ties off Blood

Chapter Two: Offers

For a moment, the word hung between them, palpable in the stormy night air. Then the vampire gave a soft chuckle and stepped behind him, undoing the bindings on his wrists, then his ankles, speaking, "No, Harry, I'm not James – though I am a Potter. Resemblance has always been strong in our family."

Now free to run, Harry hesitated, the vampire's words effectively cancelling his instinct to bolt. He had another relative? One he hadn't heard of before? His mind was reeling with the possibilities of where this could lead … somewhere better than where he was now, if he had any kind of luck.

"We're related?" he asked, his voice conveying all of his surprise. "But … you're a vampire!"

"Yes we are and yes I am, as I think I demonstrated quite adequately with that Death Eater," the man said with a faint smile. "My name is Charles, Charles Potter."

"But I haven't heard of any my relatives still being alive … let alone of them being vampires," Harry said in confusion.

"That's because no one knows me as Charles Potter – as far as the world is concerned, Charles is dead. I faked my own death rather than let my family live with the knowledge that I was a vampire. It was better that way. For centuries now I have watched over those of my blood and kept them safe from as much as harm as I could turn aside," the vampire told him, with that same gentle smile on his face.

"But … I've always been led to believe that vampires are blood sucking monsters … so why would you care?" Harry asked – perhaps it wasn't the most intelligent question, because it might anger the vampire, but he needed to know. And he figured that if Charles was a blood sucking monster, he would be dead soon enough anyway. He wasn't even sure if this would be a bad thing. At least he would be able to see Sirius again.

Charles shook his head sadly. "No, we aren't. Most Muggles think we are, and many wizards are uncomfortable with us, because we need to drink human blood in order to survive. But most of the time we don't kill, we just take enough to stay alive and healthy, and move on. Muggles, well, people in general really, are inclined to fear that which they don't understand. And no one who is not one of us has ever really understood vampire kind."

"Oh …" Harry said, and then paused for a moment before saying, "Sorry."

"It is a common misconception," Charles said delicately. "Of course, we do kill on occasion, like now. But he was going to hurt you, and I couldn't allow that – besides, Death Eaters are monsters, and thus they cannot be allowed to live, if one is going to drink from them."

Harry nodded. He didn't see anything wrong with killing Death Eaters. That was a good thing, as far as he was concerned. "So you helped me because I'm of your family?" he asked, to make sure that he had things right.

"Yes," Charles nodded. "You are the last, and I will not let my line die out. I've been working far too hard, for too long to keep you lot alive."

"You said that you'd been helping us for centuries," Harry said, "But you don't look that much older than me."

"I'm sure you've heard stories of vampires being immortal," Charles remarked, "I have been alive for almost one thousand years. While I'm not immortal, completely, I will live long enough for people to assume me to be so. It would take a very long time to explain all the mechanics of vampires and the distinctions between us, so I will simply tell you that, provided nothing untoward happens, I will live for four or five thousand years before true death takes me."

"Five thousand years?" Harry whispered, impressed. "Wow."

"You try living for a couple of centuries, and you'll get bored pretty quickly," Charles remarked. "Very few vampires live to one thousand. You get bored, you get tired, you get complacent … you make a mistake, or you go looking for the end of a life that has gone on far too long. Those of us who live longer than that usually find tasks to keep us occupied, and mine was to take care of my family."

Harry just nodded. He was awed by the age of the vampire before him, but he wasn't in the least bit scared of him. If death was coming for him, then it was coming. There was no way of avoiding death entirely, and he would rather die at this vampire's hands than at a Death Eaters. At least death would be quick, clean and hopefully relatively painless. But he did not think that Charles would kill him, somehow.

Charles scowled faintly suddenly, "On that note … I've been watching you since you arrived back here with this family of yours, and I can't say I like what I see. You are the heir to one of the most powerful families alive, you are one of the most famous people in the Magical world, and you are being treated like dirt by Muggles who are little more than that themselves."

"It's not like I can do anything about it," Harry muttered. "I have to stay with blood family; otherwise I'm not protected from Voldemort. Or at least, that's what the Order tells me. I'm not allowed to leave, and even if I did, I don't really have anywhere else that I want to go. Nowhere that isn't full of memories or people I'd rather not have to face."

"Memories of your godfather," Charles nodded, and Harry looked at him in surprise. "I do keep tabs on what goes on, you know. Nothing much happens without me finding out about it sooner or later. Usually sooner." Harry smiled a little. "But I think I have an alternative for you – you can come and live with me. I'm your relative by blood, after a fashion, and there aren't all that many people who would be able to find where I live, let alone want to challenge a fully fledged wizard-vampire to get to you."

Charles had started walking down the road, and Harry had followed him without much thought. At the vampire's words, however, he came to a dead stop once again. A vampire had just asked him to go and live with it-him … Harry wasn't sure if it was a joke or not … And he didn't know which he wanted it to be.

Hadn't he been praying for an escape, this summer more than ever? Hadn't he been wishing, all his life, for a relative to turn up and steal him away from the mundane life in Little Whinging?

In all his imaginings, though, he had never come up with this. Who would imagine living with a vampire?

Charles looked back when he saw that Harry had stopped, and walked back the couple of paces necessary to place himself in front of Harry again. "I know that it must seem abrupt to you, Harry, but I have been watching you for almost a month, and it has been gradually dawning on me that there are few other alternatives. I promise you, you could not be safer than if you are with me. I would never harm one of my blood, you least of all. You have nothing to fear from me."

"I don't know," Harry hesitated, looking anywhere but into the vampire's face, unwilling to see the hope that he knew would be there, or let Charles see that hope mirrored in Harry's eyes. To have an escape, any escape, would be a welcome relief … but this escape? It tried the boundaries, even for Harry. He seized on a more reasonable excuse than 'you're a vampire and I don't trust you', and spoke again.

"I mean, I don't know you at all. You've just appeared out of nowhere, it seems, told me this story about being my long-lost however-many-greats grandfather, and then ask me to come and live with you. It's all very sudden, and I don't know what to say. I believe what you've told me," he added hastily, as he saw Charles open his mouth to speak again, "I see no reason for you to lie to me. If you were going to kill me, I would be dead already … but I'm still not sure."

"Of course, I understand. As I said, I have been watching for so long that I feel as if I know you, even though I do not really, and you certainly do not know me." Charles sighed. "So perhaps we could reach a compromise? I come home with you to the Muggles. I won't let them, or that person who is supposed to be guarding you, see me. We get to know each other, and then, in a little while, you can make your decision, and we shall act upon it."

Harry still hesitated. Inviting a vampire home didn't seem like a particularly good idea to him. But then, he was being offered a chance to escape from the Dursleys, and that could only be good thing. How could he turn that down? He couldn't, really. And this was a long shot better than going straight back to wherever Charles's home was. For a moment, he continued to think about it, in utter silence, while they walked together. The rain got heavier, falling in proper drops, rather than mist, but he didn't really notice. Finally he said, "Sounds good to me," and smiled a little at Charles.

Charles smiled back. "Me too," he said, and Harry knew that he was being completely sincere. He was tempted to just accept the offer and get out of here, but he wanted to get to know the vampire before he did anything. At least then he could not be accused of acting recklessly in the future.

"Promise you won't hurt any of my family?" he added as a thought occurred to him, suddenly wary.

"Of course," Charles said. "I drained that Death Eater for a reason you know. I have taken enough blood to last me a week or so, then I will need to feed again."

"Do you eat other stuff?" Harry asked curiously, suddenly wanting to know more about vampires. They were supposed to have covered them in first year at Hogwarts, but that had never happened with Quirrell as the teacher. He knew only what little he had heard from his friends, which wasn't particularly factual, just a gathering of stories designed to scare the listener.

"Yes," Charles replied. "We need blood to keep our bodies going and our blood fresh, otherwise we'll die within a month or so, and generally we'd need to feed every couple of days, to get enough, but if you drain someone completely, then it lasts longer. We do not need to eat 'normal' food, but we still hunger for it, and it provides some sustenance."

Harry nodded. Made sense, he supposed. "Can you go out in the day time?" he asked, since most legends said they couldn't.

"In a fashion," Charles replied, "It is possible for a vampire to go out in daylight, but it is not a common practice amongst us. The sunlight hurts our eyes, which are designed to see at night time, and our skin burns very easily. We begin to go red after five minutes or so, and start to blister after about fifteen minutes in the sunlight. It is highly unpleasant. It's also far easier to hunt under the cover of darkness."

"So, if you wear sunglasses and sun cream, and long clothes, and don't try to hunt, then you're fine?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Charles nodded, "But still, we find it easier to cut ourselves off from the world of day and dedicate ourselves to the night. It makes our loss easier to deal with if we don't taunt ourselves with the inevitable. Although, the occasional wander through the day is a pleasant change, I must admit."

Then they were standing in front of Number Four Privet Drive – Harry hardly remembered the walk that brought them here from where he had been attacked, several blocks away. It seemed surprising that such a distance could be covered in what seemed like such a short time, but he supposed that he had been a little preoccupied. Harry suddenly remembered something, "That Death Eater – what if the Muggles find him?" he asked, "They'll freak out …"

"They won't," Charles said grimly. "The Death Eater killed your watcher before he did anything else, and someone will be coming to replace him soon enough. When they discover him missing, they'll search, and find the Death Eater – they'll know what it means, finding him with his blood completely drained, and they'll take the body away, then they'll come to check on you and make sure you're safe. I'll hide when they show, and you just have to tell them that you never saw a thing. They'll assume that I found the Death Eater on his own, before he got to you, and that'll be the end of that … although they'll warn you not to go out at night, because it isn't safe with a vampire around."

Harry jerked as if he had been touched with a burning coal when he heard that the Order's watcher had been killed looking out for him, and he felt as if the killing would never end. It was his fault, it was all his fault, and if he hadn't been here, who could say how many people would still be alive? He hated it, hated that he was the centre of this cyclone of death and despair … and there was nothing he could do.

He wondered who the watcher had been, and felt guilty – someone had died because of him, and he didn't even know if it had been a man or a woman, someone he knew or a complete stranger … the Death Eater had probably never known that information either, but that hadn't stopped the man from killing whoever it had been. Well, he would find out who it was soon enough, and then perhaps the guilt would ease a little.

He felt even guiltier when he realised that he was feeling relieved because he knew that the watcher could not have been Remus. Remus was possibly the one person that Harry couldn't lose. It would be awful if any of his other friends in the Order died, but he didn't know if he would have been able to cope if it had been Remus who had died that night.

He shook his head, trying to drive those thoughts from his mind. He didn't want to think about death, he had spent far too long contemplating that eventuality, for himself and for all of the people that he knew. Too often in the last three weeks had he found himself wondering how he would feel if Ron died, or if Tonks, or any of the others.

"So wizards fear you as much as Muggles do?" Harry asked, as much to distract himself as anything else.

"Wizards do not trust us," Charles corrected calmly. "They believe that it is too easy for us to have ... accidents, even though they knowwe don't usually kill. But you only ever seem to hear about the vampire attacks where the victim died, because otherwise most don't know that they've been attacked."

Harry opened the front door and they headed inside and up to Harry's room, where he gathered clothes and got ready for the shower he usually had when he returned home, and the vampire inspected his surroundings. Somehow Charles didn't seem to be even slightly damp, despite the rain.

Soaked to the skin, and still a little shocked from the occurrences of the night, although he had mostly come to terms with things already, Harry clung to his routine. He didn't even think to tell Charles what was going on, and Charles didn't question it. Harry supposed, when he thought about it as he turned on the shower taps, sending a cascade of hot water over his chilled body, that Charles knew his routine from watching him over the past weeks.

Outside, the heavens opened and released a torrent of rain, as if all they had been waiting for was for those still living to make their way inside. The raindrops roared as they hit the rooftop, and Harry was willing to bet that the Dursley's wouldn't even be able to hear his shower over that sound.

When he returned after his shower, Harry found Moody standing outside the door to his room, raising his hand to knock. The rain must have covered the noise of his Aparating in as well. "Potter!" he said, in surprised relief, and Harry gave the slightest nod, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now. Act surprised that Moody was here, would probably be a good bet.

"Has something happened?" Harry asked, forehead creasing a little as if he was really confused by what was going on. "Why are you here?"

"We thought you might have been dead…" Moody said, not even seeming to have heard what Harry had said.

"What?" Harry asked, trying to sound surprised, "Why? What happened?"

"You're usually out wandering the streets this time of night," Moody said disapprovingly, "And it seems that our fears were justified – your watcher tonight was killed. It's not safe for you to be outside any more. We searched, and found the Death Eater whose wand delivered the curse. He was found dead, and bloodless. That means there was a vampire, too."

Harry let his facial expression change to one of fear and grief. The latter was not hard to summon, because he was upset that someone else had died because of him. He wondered, then, if he should spill the beans and tell Moody that Charles was here, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he instead said, "Who? Who died?"

"I don't believe you ever met him," Moody said, "He joined us after Christmas last year." Harry nodded in barely concealed relief. No one he knew, that had to be better than one of his friends or someone he knew. Immediately, he felt worse about the occurrences. The relief that he felt in itself was condemning.

"And a vampire?" he added, trying to play shocked and cover all of the bases so that Moody didn't think that he was being suspicious. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to convince Moody of all people that he knew nothing. Moody was perhaps the most suspicious person Harry had ever met in his life.

"Yes," Moody said. "I'm surprised that it killed, because you don't usually find them killing people … so, we're going to ask you to stay here and not go wandering anywhere at all, until we're sure that the vampire has gone and there aren't any Death Eaters … frankly, I'm amazed you got back alive. Vampire must have attacked while the Death Eater was still following you, and not seen you."

"Must have," Harry said faintly, relieved because that was exactly what Charles had said they would assume.

"Remember boy, constant vigilance. If you see danger everywhere, you'll be prepared, and being prepared will mean the difference between life and death." Moody nodded firmly, before Aparating abruptly away, and Harry went into his room. Charles was nowhere to be seen.

"He's gone," Harry remarked, and for a moment, there was no movement in the room, then there was a knock on the window and Charles's head appeared there. Harry hurried over and opened it, and the vampire climbed agilely through.

"It was just like you said, he assumed that you'd attacked the Death Eater without seeing me, and before the Death Eater had found me," Harry told Charles, who nodded thoughtfully. Harry yawned, surprising himself. He hadn't been sleeping much, hadn't seen much point to in the last weeks, he only woke up after a few restless hours from nightmares.

"You should sleep," Charles remarked.

"I don't want to face the nightmares," Harry said quietly, and was surprised at himself because he didn't talk about his nightmares to anyone. They had not involved Voldemort, only Sirius and Sirius's death, so he had seen no reason to speak to the Order about them. While his scar often prickled when he woke up, or even burned sometimes, he didn't think that it was very important. His scar always hurt a bit, Voldemort was constantly active these days, whether that was out in the open or out of sight of the magical world. Charles looked at him for a moment, and nodded.

"I suppose I know how you feel. I have nightmares too," he said softly. "But you can't let them have power over you. You have to face them, and tell them that you aren't afraid, and then they will leave you alone. You need to sleep; your body cannot survive without it. Dreams are only dreams, and they cannot truly harm you."

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to face the nightmares that would come if he slept, but he also didn't really want to sleep while there was a vampire in the room with him. He thought he could trust Charles, but it went against every instinct he had to sleep while there was a blood drinking being nearby … even if said being was already apparently satiated.

He yawned again, and found himself nodding, going over to lie on his bed. Charles dragged the chair from Harry's desk over and sat down beside his head, reaching out a delicate hand and stroking the damp hair back from Harry's forehead, taking off his glasses and putting them on the bedside.

The last thing Harry remembered before his eyes drifted close and a deep, peaceful sleep overtook him, was the soft touch of Charles stroking his hair back, and a song seeming to croon very softly in his ears.


When Harry woke up again it was late in the morning and Charles was gone. Harry wondered if the man had been a dream that he had the night before, since he hadn't had a good night's sleep since Sirius's death … anything was possible, wasn't it? He blinked bleary eyes and sat up, reaching for his glasses and putting them on, letting the room swim suddenly into focus.

He got up, and looked around his room, as if searching for a sign that the night before had been real. His room was messy–clothes and the contents of trunk spilled out across the floor from when he'd been looking for something, but hadn't had the inclination to pack everything up again, the desk was completely empty, because he hadn't gone near his summer homework …

He lent back in his bed, feeling at once disappointed and relieved. Relieved because if Charles had only been a dream from the night before, then he wouldn't have to think about the life-changing decision to leave the Dursley's, but disappointed because he had lost the chance to do just that.

He shook his head faintly. Why could he never make up his mind what he wanted? It was always like this, so many things that he wanted that all seemed at opposites to each other.

Before he could continue this line of thought, the door was pushed open and Charles came into the room, bearing a tray of food and humming softly under his breath. "Ah," he said, smiling at Harry when he saw the boy sitting up, his glasses having just been hastily shoved onto his nose, "You're awake. Breakfast?"

Harry was so surprised that Charles was actually real, that he simply nodded his head. He realized that he felt happier than he had been in weeks, even months. While both the disappointment and relief could be related to this situation, Harry decided that whatever else he felt, he was happy that Charles had come into his life, whatever the outcome might be. He felt curiously attracted to the vampire.

Charles pushed the tray into Harry's lap, and Harry looked up at him, "Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"I won't feel hungry for human food until later this afternoon. I am rather bloated from the Death Eater," Charles replied. "And before you ask, your relatives didn't see me, nor did the Order watcher. Magic turned his eyes away, and your relatives are all out and about. Your uncle has gone to work and your aunt his driving your cousin somewhere and will be spending some time gossiping when she gets there."

Harry smiled a little at that, and was surprised to find himself hungry enough to dig into the small meal that Charles had brought him. "There wasn't much food left," Charles said apologetically, "I expect your aunt will be doing some shopping before she comes home as well."

"That's ok," Harry said, "It's more than I usually eat for breakfast."

"I noticed that," Charles said disapprovingly, "You won't get anywhere by starving yourself you know. It won't bring your godfather back – believe me, I know. I tried it myself, I tried not to drink blood for weeks on end because I thought that it would make things go away … but it never did. It only made me weak, sick and thoroughly miserable."

"I'm not trying to starve myself," Harry protested, suddenly worried that Charles would think less of him for not eating much. "I just don't feel hungry. I guess it's got a lot to do with Sirius being … you know … but it's also to do with the fact that I'm used to not eating as much when I'm here, I guess my body just expects it these days."

Charles looked very annoyed at those words, but he said nothing else about it, so Harry let it lie as well. He certainly had little wish to discuss his life at Privet Drive. He was more than happy to forget about the things that he had endured here in the past. "How are you going to explain your presence to the Order?"

"Most of the time, I won't be seen by them. I doubt that we'll be leaving the house much, somehow. But when we do need to leave, then we can go at night. Once you have decided what you want to do, we will also have to think about what you want to tell the Order. There will be time for that later though."

"About that," Harry said hesitantly, and Charles looked at him expectantly. "I've decided – I want to come and live with you." The brief moment in which he had been convinced that Charles had been a dream had been enough for Harry to realise just how much he did want to take the vampire up on his offer.

Charles smiled brilliantly. "Excellent. I was so hoping you would choose to accept," he said quietly. "In that case I suppose we will have to decide what you want to tell the Order sooner rather than later."

"What do you think we should tell them?" Harry asked.

"The Order will not react well to the knowledge that you are living with a vampire," Charles stated. "We could tell them that you are living with another relative, but they are well aware that anyone of your blood still classed as being amongst the living are all in the old pureblood families and therefore probably your enemies. Telling them who I am would only reveal that I am a vampire."

"So telling them truth is probably a bad idea," Harry extrapolated. "That leaves telling them a lie."

"That is an option," Charles nodded, "If I may suggest, you could simply tell them that you have left the Dursley's and have gone somewhere that you consider to be even safer than this house, and have no intention of returning, no matter what they might think is best for you and that you will see them all when school starts again."

Harry thought about it for all of a second before nodding. "That's a good plan."

"I like to avoid telling outright lies whenever I can," Charles said, "The more lies you tell the easier it is for you to slip up and make a mistake. Far better to tell the truth and just leave things out; in this instance my being a vampire. What they don't know won't hurt them."

"That's very devious," Harry remarked.

"Deviousness is a Slytherin trait that seems to have been sadly overlooked in today's generation," Charles said.

"You were in Slytherin?" Harry asked, surprised again.

"Do I detect a hint of prejudice in that question?" Charles asked, sounding both amused and annoyed. "Despite what the current generation seems to think, Slytherin is not synonymous with evil. To be Slytherin should be to prefer more subtle ways of getting things done, to prefer to do things the quiet intelligent way, rather than run around drawing attention to ones self. Unfortunately, all the pureblood bigotry got attached the House entirely too early on."

"Sorry," Harry said. "Most of the people I know from Slytherin are really nasty."

"Apology accepted," Charles said, and that closed the issue. "When would you like to leave? We can go tonight, or later if that seems too soon."

Harry hesitated again, but only for a fraction of a second. "Tonight," he agreed. "I don't want to spend another night in this house ever again."

For a heartbeat after he spoke he wondered if he had been too rash, but the thought of getting away from the Dursley's focused him. Even if he and Charles did not get on, anything had to be better than being locked away here, isolated from his friends, from his world.

It was time to leave.


Revised 20 October 2008

Author Note:

This story will NOT be slash. I'm not great at the romance thing, and I don't think I could write slash. I'm personally very heterosexual, and while I have no problem with homosexuality, I also have no real understanding of it. There may be a little romance in the middle and end of sixth year, and something a bit stronger for seventh year. I have a fairly good idea of who the more serious girlfriend will be, but not sure how much fooling around Harry will do first, or who will be involved. Hermione will NOT be - I don't see them as working as a couple.

WolfMoon