Chapter summary: Meet Nosferatu Tepes, a recently inheritor of Vampiric power... Oh wait, no, the clan wishes that were true, Nosferatu Tepes is as human as they come, despite having passed the due date for his inheritance.
A/N: Whoo! Meet the OC lead. Also, this thousand words of editing fic came really quickly...
It's been three months since I left the main clan behind. I left in the middle of the day when no one, bar the few human servants the clan employs to look after the young ones who haven't yet received their inheritances, was awake. It was easier that way. I didn't want to have to face Mother and Father. Or the rest of my former clan and their blatant falseness. I was sick of seeing the pity and the doubt in their eyes, hearing them whisper behind my back 'How will he lead the clan? He is no vampire!' 'He is a disgrace; he should have been killed on his 15th birthday.' 'Who will lead the clan now; there are no other direct heirs?'
Yeah, what a joke, the heir to the largest, most prosperous vampire clan in existence and yet he's as human as they come! I'm the ultimate disgrace in the eyes of the elders; even my own father can barely hide his disappointment in me. I know they are all hoping my mother will be able to conceive another child, she's still young enough yet. If they receive a full inheritance on their 15th birthday, all their problems are solved and they can safely erase my entire existence. I decided that I wasn't going to stay in that place, to be treated like a ghost, or a piece of furniture.
I found the cheapest lodgings I could when I arrived in London's Wizarding sector. I only brought one pouch of gold with me after all and I didn't know how long it would last me. After all, even undetectable expansion charms only go so far. I don't know how long I'll be until I find a way to get some incoming cash - I have no real marketable skills, I'm fifteen and I'm from a rich family – I've never really had to work for anything. If I ever did it was merely to stave off boredom, not from any real need to be working.
I'll probably end up running errands or dicing ingredients for a potions master or some other boring job that no one else wants. I just hope it will pay well enough to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly. Unfortunately, I can't gain all my meals from unfortunate strangers, like the rest of my undead relatives. Being a vampire would certainly drop my living expenses, if nothing else.
The room I'm renting is small and rather grim. The walls are panelled in a dark brown wood that's scratched and dulled; the floorboards aren't in much better condition. The ceiling was once painted white 'Or maybe it was cream… ' I muse. At least it's a roof over my head and a bed under my back for the nights. The inbuilt heating/cooling and cleaning charms are a welcome bonus, even if they are rather archaic. It doesn't matter that the mattress is thin, and that I can sometimes hear the pipes rattling. This is mine, and there's no one who can take it from me.
"Well, not until I run out of money." I sigh, shifting again to avoid a particularly stiff lump that seems determined to dig into my spine and nowhere else.
The thing with vampires is that part of the transformation includes our 'death'. We do actually die, albeit only for a few seconds, before our hearts restart. But those few seconds are enough to loosen the hold our bodies had on any natural magic, allowing it to seep back into the earth and fall forever out of our grasp. This part of the transformation happens for everyone with more than half vampiric heritage, including me.
My misfortune lies in that when I woke up, the powers a vampire usually gets to replace their natural magic stores weren't there. Along with my fangs - which are a real sore point for me, a vampire's fangs are a mark of their strength as well as a source of great pride. If it had just been the fangs, it may have been alright, my family's reputation would have been slightly tarnished, but it wouldn't have been completely decimated. After all there are a few 'fangless' vampires around the place, even if they are largely seen as eccentrics and are generally ignored by the clans. I would have been a bit of a disappointment, but I could still have taken my place as heir to the clan.
A vampire without power, though, is like a wizard without magic or a dragon without wings. We are seen as weak, pathetic beings no better than mindless animals. Some believe we should be killed, other would just exile us to the non-magical societies like Wizards do to their squib relatives. Needless to say, most who are exiled don't last for very long – the habits and traditions of a vampire are too ingrained. The lack of the support that comes from being in a coven, and the ache created by the power vacuum that results from a failed inheritance, yet still being so close drives most of us mad.
That's what would have happened to me, if I hadn't been the clan's only heir. They spent months deliberating on what to do with me; should I still be Clan Head, maybe I should be a puppet ruler, or should they just push me aside for one of my cousins or a sibling – whoever was the next in line to the throne. I push myself up onto my elbows and sigh, I know I shouldn't dwell so much on the past. If I let it cloud my natural optimism too much, I'll end up losing myself to depression and despair.
I'm hoping that when I get myself a job I'll stop fretting over my current situation and the events that led to it. Ah, the wonders of distractions and denial. I sigh again and roll myself off the bed. As I pick up my cloak of the back of the desk chair I survey the room. There isn't a thing out of place – not that I brought much with me. I pull the door closed behind me, locking it with an old brass key, sling the deep blue cloak over my shoulders and pull up the hood. It definitely isn't a good idea to let your face be freely seen in Knockturn Alley. Not in a place where grudges and vendettas are made and fulfilled every day. Especially when, more often than not the fulfilment ends in a dead body.