Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, written purely to entertain myself and (hopefully) a few others. The world and characters belong entirely to J.K. Rowling, (OC's excluded) and I lay no claim to them whatsoever!

Thanks: Much gratitude to my wonderful Beta, SlashFan69 who has gone over this chapter and corrected my mistakes!

So yes, this is the Beta'd version :)

Chapter Two: Seeing Is Believing; A Lesson In History

To say Harry was intrigued was an understatement; but he also held a healthy amount of caution when it came to these new people. How was it possible he even had another aunt and uncle? His mother he knew had only his Aunt Petunia as a sibling, and his father was an only child. So it was impossible, wasn't it?

And whoever was coming was to meet him at the Dursley's around eleven in the evening. He was worried about that. His instincts told him all would be fine, that he should trust these people. Another part of him, however, refused outright to listen, and so he found himself in a bit of a stalemate. Not able to move forward until one of his instincts came up on top.

He desperately wanted to meet these people who claimed to be his aunt and uncle, but with Sirius' death still clear in his mind, it was hard to come to a decision on the matter. This was mainly because he didn't want to make another stupid mistake like that ever again.

Of course, Harry had noticed that there was never a mention of whether Harry could bring others with him or not, or a warning to tell no one else. For some reason though, Harry didn't want to let the Order know of the events. Logically, he knew he should, just in case it was a trap. But if it was, the person wouldn't be able to harm him... right? With his mother's blood magic still in place, he should be safe.

There were just so many different factors to take into consideration, and his already befuddled brain couldn't work with the little information he had at his disposal.

Forcing himself to calm, he went over what he knew: what he knew, was that most, if not all, of Voldemort's forces would be aware of Sirius' death. It was entirely possible that they thought now would be the perfect time to strike by trying to gain Harry's trust in the guise of being a long lost relative, only to hand him over to Voldemort.

That also brought the thought of that if that was true, his location was now known by Voldemort. However, if this was correct, than Dumbledore should also know, since Snape was apparently one of Voldemort's most trusted. Not to mention, of course, that the old wizard wasn't likely to leave Harry in a place that he would be in danger if he ever left the property, which happened a lot, as he was often sent to the local dairy.

Harry wasn't sure about that though, seeing as he hadn't yet left the Dursley property this summer. Although, now that it had been pointed out to him, he really wasn't willing to test the theory.

Well, he had until eleven to make up his mind, and he could also send word to Dumbledore, asking whether Voldemort knew of his location. Stupid as the idea was, it would likely draw the ancient wizard's attention to him, and since he wasn't even sure of what had happened to himself (let alone the circumstances around his new possible family), he didn't think he wanted Dumbledore to know just yet.

Not that he thought that was possible right now, seeing as Hedwig, Pig, and Errol had all vanished, having yet to reappear.

He sighed as finished his sandwich and juice, still contemplating what he was going to do. He rubbed his eyes as he thought, not even noticing that he was doing so by putting his fingers right through the frames of his glasses. Harry had pushed the lenses out of his frames shortly after he had awoken on his birthday to try and help hide the fact he had changed. This meant that he was still wearing his spectacles, albeit glassless, around the house.

-jade-requiem-

The afternoon flew by until it was nearly dinner. Harry assisted in setting the table, while his Aunt Petunia finished off the cooking. She was just dishing everything out when Uncle Vernon and Dudley came through the door.

His uncle, as was common lately, ignored Harry as he seated himself at his place on the table. Dudley was looking at Harry oddly, like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

"We're having a few guests over tomorrow night, Petunia," uncle Vernon announced as he cut into his peppered beef. He took a bite of his food and glanced at Harry, pointing his fork at him as he continued "and you boy, will be dressed nicely, and will welcome them in."

Harry strongly disliked the way his uncle was looking at him: it was rather like a much coveted jewel that could earn him a lot of money.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied. Sighing, he realized that he had no idea how he was going to look nice. The only clothes that fit him properly were his underwear and school robes, which were likely too short on him now anyway.

Aunt Petunia was obviously thinking the same thing. "I'll find something suitable for you tomorrow," she said, surprising Harry slightly.

The rest of dinner consisted of ignoring Harry, except for Dudley, who would peer between his parents and then back at his cousin, looking for all the world like he was trying to put together a complex puzzle. Particularly one in which he did not have all the pieces for.

Time was gradually slipping by as Harry stood and helped with the dishes. He had been debating with himself over telling his aunt that a guest was expected to arrive shortly. Not wanting whoever it was to just turn up on the door step or anything, enraging his uncle and upset his aunt, he decided it was likely best if he did inform them.

"Aunt Petunia," he began, "I received word earlier today that someone was going to come by and see me..." He glanced over at his aunt, who wore a pinched look. When she didn't say anything he continued carefully, "I'm warning you because I'm unsure who they are, or if they're safe. I also thought it would be best if I answered the door. You know, just in case..."

"I'll inform Vernon of your...visitor." She said this stiffly, clearly not pleased with the announcement, and turned to go back to what she had been doing prior to Harry's interruption.

"Aunt Petunia," he said again. She turned looking thoroughly annoyed, but also wary.

"Yes?"

"If anything goes wrong... could you get this to Dumbledore? It's important."

She eyed the sealed parchment that he handed her carefully before accepting it with a brisk nod. With that done, Harry left the room and returned to his bedroom, awaiting his new arrival.

-jade-requiem-

Harry gazed out his open bedroom window. None of the owls had returned since vanishing, and he was feeling more than a little disturbed by that.

Night had well and truly fallen, the only sources of light were the soft glow of the crescent moon, which was partially hidden behind wisps of cloud, surrounded by tiny pinpricks that were the the stars, and the flickering streetlamp that was in front of Number 4.

A faint scent of something caught Harry's attention not long later at the same time that his eyes fixed on something strolling steadily towards his house in the shadows. Even at his this distance, Harry could distinguish that the figure was a man, darkly clad, not in robes, but in a business suit. From what Harry could tell, it looked expensive.

As he drew closer, Harry easily made out the man's features, and was almost too shocked to react when he looked up at Harry and smiled.

He looked more like Harry now than his own father did. Though the new comer was more angular, their resemblance was uncanny. His hair, dark like Harry's, was sleek as opposed to Harry's wavy locks, and his eyes were an amberish gold, giving Harry the idea that the man wasn't entirely human.

Harry backed away from the window, running for the door just as it started to ring. No one said a word. Instead, they remained in their places in the sitting room, pretending to watch the television and not hear what was going on with Harry.

He opened the door to the strange man, feeling an odd wave of warmth flood him as he gazed upon the other who stared at him with obvious affection.

"Harry!" The man greeted in an odd accent. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, after all these years." He was looking at Harry's face like he could never get enough. "I am your uncle, your father's older twin brother."

Twin?

The man's expression was wistful, and his gaze turned pained as he looked upon Harry. "I always thought you looked so much like James. However, I can see the change has made you look more like me now, more like our bloodline. Not difficult really, given the trait you've managed to pick up from us when your father didn't." He chortled somewhat bitterly.

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he settled for, "Do you want to come in?"

His uncle looked thoughtful, then nodded. "It's probably wisest," he conceded before following Harry over the threshold and into the house. Harry lead the man through to the sitting room to where the Dursleys were seated and heard his aunt gasp.

Harry wasn't entirely sure where the thought came from; perhaps it was just the manners that had been ingrained into him from his relatives, though he almost felt like kicking himself for his stupidity. True, the man had made it past the wards around the property, showing he couldn't very well be a Death Eater, but that still left a large amount of possibilities.

Forcing the dark thoughts away, Harry tried to focus on the good things, like the fact that the man didn't feel evil, and, while it was odd for Harry to contemplate, didn't smell evil either.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley this is..." Harry trailed off in his introductions, realising he didn't even know his supposed uncle's name.

"Demetrius," the man answered for himself. "Demetrius Nicolai."

Harry shot him a quizzical look.

"I'm Harry's uncle. Twin brother of his father."

"Oh no you don't!" Uncle Vernon snapped suddenly. "You can't just show now after all these year and take him away! Not when we fed and clothed him out of the goodness of our hearts! And especially now that I can use him for extra money!"

"Goodness of your hearts?" Harry muttered darkly.

"Use him for extra money?" Dudley questioned loudly, but was ignored.

"As a matter of fact, I do intend to take Harry away with me, should he wish to come." Demetrius stated calmly. He then turned to Harry and ignored everyone else. "Will you come stay with your aunt Selene and I? You've just come into your new powers, and need someone who will be able to help you with them. Now, I know that I've given you no reason to trust me, and I could certainly be someone trying to trick you, but surely you've noticed the differences in you're own body and the way you see your surroundings?"

Harry nodded, the only thing he was currently able to do without embarrassing himself.

"Harry," Demetrius dropped his voice so only Harry could hear it, "our bloodline, which was strangely dormant in your father, has awoken in you. Tell me Harry, have you ever heard of the Nicolais?"

"Sorry, but no."

Demetrius nodded, as though it was to be expected. "We are the last of a clan of vampire hunters. A century or so ago we were almost completely wiped out, so we went into hiding. Unfortunately, our number decreased further for unknown reasons, leaving so very few of us. Also, seeing as I am unable to have children with your aunt, the title of Heir passes to you once I die."

Unsure what to say, Harry stared back dumbly. So was he meant to believe he wasn't really a Potter but a Nicolai, not to mention the Heir? And they were supposedly vampire hunters? This was all pretty farfetched.

"So... I'm not a Potter but a Nicolai. How, I'm unsure, and I'm also from a clan of vampire hunters?" He asked, somewhat sceptically.

The man sighed. "You don't believe me." He stated.

During the whole conversation, not once had Harry's sneakoscope reacted. This meant that either it was broken or this man was telling the truth.

"I had hoped that this was not necessary, but if you do not come with me, someone who can help train you in your awakening powers, we may find ourselves in more trouble than is worth." he sighed and Harry tensed, "Would Dumbledore be better at convincing you to accompany me?"

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked, now even more confused.

"Not that ruddy man!" Vernon exploded, drawing all attention to him.

"What does Dumbledore have to do with this?" Harry pushed, wanting to understand.

"Nothing," Demetrius answered simply. "Although I am aware of his part in ensuring your safety all these years, and if I must inform him of the circumstances, then I must do what I must."

He sounded incredibly sad about that, and Harry, to his great alarm, felt it too.

"You don't have to decide now," Demertrius reassured Harry. "Take as long as as you need, but if you would prefer we go through Dumbledore, so be it."

Harry considered that carefully. Did he really want Dumbledore's interference? He knew the man was looking out for Harry's best interests, but what could possibly happen if he caught wind of this? Harry knew he'd have to tell him eventually, but did he have to now? No, he didn't, but what if the entire thing was a trap?

His instincts were yelling at him to stop being an idiot and trust the man, but his rational brain was vehemently against the idea.

Gathering all his blind courage, Harry nodded his head. "I'll go with you. If you'll have me," he decided.

Demetrius looked mildly startled. "I had thought you'd think about the situation more," he chuckled. "but of course you'll be welcome. As I said earlier, I have no child of my own and my wife would just adore lavishing you in all the affection should we have had our own child. In fact, she had wanted to come with me."

He glanced fondly upon Harry then turned his attention back to the Dursleys. "It was nice meeting you." He bowed gracefully and returned his eye back to Harry. "I'll return tomorrow to pick you up. You can still change your mind, just know that whether you stay here or not, I must train you."

Harry nodded and followed his uncle out into the hall.

"Oh," Demetrius said, slipping his hand into the pocket of his blazer, withdrawing a small package. He enlarged and examined the carefully wrapped package before handing it to Harry. "Part of you're birthday present," he explained. "A lesson in history. I'd suggest making a start on it before I return tomorrow." He paused at the door, looking like he wanted to do something, but smiled instead. "I'll be back earlier tomorrow. Happy birthday by the way. When you move in with us, we can celebrate properly."

Then he was gone. Vanishing into the shadows as suddenly as he had appeared.

-jade-requiem-

Hurrying, Harry ran into his room and closed the door. When glancing out onto the street revealed nothing of his uncle, Harry seated himself on his bed and tore open the expensive looking silver paper that concealed his gift.

Within the paper was a large ancient looking tome. It was bound in black leather with intricate silver borders and bore the name 'THE NICOLAI FAMILY' in large bold print across the front as well as down the spine.

From what Harry could gather of it, the book was self adding and continued to add more pages for of the descendants as they came into being. Apparently, the Nicolais came into being by someone called Draconis. It wasn't very detailed. In fact, the whole start of the Nicolai family was somewhat vague, but Harry's attention came to the pages near the end of the book, where he found Demetrius Nicolai listed, as well as his father, James Harold Potter. The most recent name was his own, Harry James Potter, current owner of the book.

As he watched, an elegant script filled out the rest of the details.

Harry James Potter, July 31st 1980.
Only known survivor of the killing curse that took the lives of both parents, James and Lily Potter, on the 31st October 1981. Heir to the Nicolai legacy, he came into his hereditas on his sixteenth birthday, 31 July 1996. Last known Angelus to be born.
Current bearer of the book.

"Angelus?" Harry asked himself aloud, wondering what the book was talking about.

He continued to peer down at the book of his family. It could quite possibly be forged. That wouldn't be hard to accomplish. However, the tome emanated ancient magic. It almost felt like Hogwarts, the magical aura that came off the book in waves. He trusted it, and something made him feel extremely protective of it. It was his family history he was holding. Well, half of his family history.

He wondered if it was a wise move of Demetrius to give him such a valuable and important piece of history. What if it was lost, or burnt? Pushing the idea aside, he flipped through the page until he got back to his father's name and read:

James Harold Potter, March 27th 1960 – October 31st 1981
Was killed by the curse, Avada Kedavra.
Married muggleborn witch Lily Evans.
Sole child, by Lily Evans is Harry Potter.

He flipped back a few more pages until he got to his grandparents, and where everything seemed to begin.

Emmanuel Mikhail Nicolai born January 21st 1893 – March 19th 1978
Mated to Dorea Potter who was already married to Charlus Potter.
children, twin sons by Dorea Black: Demetrius and James.
While Demetrius was a born Angelus, James was not and so was raised by Dorea and her husband Charlus. Until her death, Dorea was unaware she had another child...

The script went on.

Lovely, his grandmother was an adulterer. He frowned when he read over the lines about her not being aware of Demetrius, and again at the phrase about Angelus. He wondered if Emmanuel had made her forget about her first son or something along the lines, not to mention what on earth the book had meant by mated?

Reading on about Emmanuel's life, Harry was able to gauge the fact that he was a very sad man. Depressed for most of his life until he died suddenly. Harry assumed it was of heart break, as it was clear that Emmanuel loved Harry's grandmother very much.

His eyes caught sight of another book, it wasn't quite as old as the first, but looked worse for wear, the pages practically falling apart. Gingerly, he opened the book and peered down at the pages that were yellow with age.

It was on vampires, more importantly Angelus.

Harry froze. Isn't that what his family history had called him and Demetrius? Not wanting to leap to conclusions just yet, Harry decided to read before he actually decided on anything.

The Angelus Clan: The Hunters.

Named of the Angels, nicknamed 'The Fallen' for their angelic appearance but dark natures. Their beauty is unmatched and often described as other-worldly and ethereal. Apart from this, there are scant few ways to detect an Angelus as for the most part they appear and act quite human.

Like humans and the clan of Invidians, they are warm blooded and very much alive. They lack the usual allergies to silver, sunlight, and garlic. The difference between humans and Angelus being their retractable fangs, nails and glossy dark feathered wings, as well as their need for blood every so often.

It is in fact believed that the Dark Veela were derived from an Angelus and Veela relationship. Though this cannot be proven, it is highly possible. (See page 442 for some examples of this recording.)

Along with an Angelus' breathtaking appearances, it is known to be a hunter of it's own kind. It is said that Angelus tend to hunt in packs of two of more, killing other vampire clans they come across. However, it isn't unheard of for a Angelus to hunt alone and do just as well.
Once they have set a target they will stop at nothing until they have it. It is for this reason that they are also highly valuable assassins and spies.

At a time, it was the Angelus that were used as Vampire Hunters to track down and exterminate troublesome vampires. It it is believed that it was because of this that a majority of the Angelus were wiped out, their royalty going into hiding.

Harry blinked, trying to absorb all the information properly. If what he read was true, then he was a vampire. One of the Angelus and vampire hunter. He allowed the thought to tumble over and over in his mind.

Demetrius had never said anything about being a vampire, but, from what Harry gathered, his clan were an exception in terms of regular vampires. His kind hunted other vampires, and killed them...

Harry shuddered, hoping that was all they did. He didn't feel entirely too happy with the fact that he may eat other vampires. He mused on that point a moment. Is that really so bad? He thought, I'd only drink from them wouldn't I? How very different would that be from drinking human blood?

Strangely, or maybe not, considering his new affliction, the thought of drinking human blood wasn't as disturbing as his thoughts of drinking the blood of another vampire. Maybe it was because he was no longer human and to drink the blood of another of his kind would be cannibalism? Or maybe it was because he was closer to humans...?

He closed his eyes and massaged his temples, trying to stave off the oncoming headache. He shouldn't even be considering drinking human blood, and yet he had accepted it almost without thought. That disturbed him greatly.

So, he was a vampire, but killed other vampires from different clans? He wondered if that was just being hypocritical or perhaps prejudiced. Then there was the fact that he was abruptly quite accepting of the fact he may find his fellow dorm-mates rather tasty milkshakes.

This just seemed so very wrong.

Harry almost wished he had left with Demetrius, he at least could answer all the questions that had popped up now in his absence. Like how anyone failed to miss the fact his grandmother was missing a son. How Charlus Potter didn't seem to know his son wasn't his own, but the offspring of another's... What kind of powers was Harry bound to have now that his supposed vampiric tendencies had awoken? How would he feed, and how often would he need to?

The not so quiet snick of the door opening drew his attention to uncle Vernon standing in the frame. He didn't say anything, just stood looking at Harry for a long time before sneering and slamming the door as he exited.

Flopping back onto his bed, Harry stared fixatedly at the ceiling. His family was losing it.

-jade-requiem-

Harry hated formal dinners. He hated them even more so when he was partaking in it. At least in the past he had only had to stay in his room and be silent, but now, now he was actually having to play along with his aunt's stiff little act.

The guests, two men in their late thirties or early forties sat around on the opposite side of the table. The tallest, a fair haired man with an easy smile and crinkles at the corners of his eyes, wore a dark grey suit, while his companion, wore a black one. The shorter man was slightly wider, and had cinnamon coloured hair and darker eyes that seemed to glitter like they held a secret the man wasn't willing to share.

Both had unnerved Harry upon arrival, staring at him unabashedly as they had and were, but Harry had quickly discovered ignoring their obvious problem was better than pissing off his aunt and uncle.

He had been dressed up in a ridiculous suit, force fed proper dining etiquette, and made to smile an abnormal amount. Dudley looked nervous, as he tended to do lately. He was eying the man in the dark grey suit with unease. Harry noticed this of course. It was hard not too when the man was practically burning a hole through his head with the intensity of his stare.

"So you're Harry," the black suited man said conversationally, like it wasn't obvious that he wasn't the Dursley's child, "your uncle has told nothing but wonderful things about you."

"I'm sure he has," Harry said, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice. It ended up that he was either successful, or the man ignored it.

"Harry," the other proceeded, "how would you feel about modelling for us?"

"Modelling?"

"That's right. We're scouts, looking for up and coming young adults to model our newest designs. You would be perfect! Just imagine, being the role model for all those other teens out there when it comes to fashion. You'd be a guru!"

Oh, Harry knew all about being a role model, just not the type they were talking about. "I still attend school," he said, trying to break their enthusiasm.

"We are aware," the grey clad man said, as if it were a great misfourtune.

"You can do shoots on weekends," the other said.

"I attend a boarding school," Harry pushed. "In Scotland."

He watched as both men seemed to deflate a little at that comment but just as quickly, they were up and eagerly throwing more idea's his way.

"We could come to your school..."

"There should be a nearby studio we could use temporarily."

Harry observed as his uncle grew steadily redder at the men's continual suggestions and Harry's retorts, until he was that horrible puce colour he'd sometimes turn when extremely angry. It appeared now was one of those times.

However, whatever was about to happen was interrupted by a knock on the front door.

"Excuse me," Harry said politely as he could manage as he stood to open the door. He placed his napkin down carefully as he had been instructed earlier and fled the room.

Demetrius awaited him on the other side, a smile on his face. He was wearing yet another black suit. "Come in," Harry said, glad for the interruption. "My stuff's all upstairs, I'll go get it."

"I can help," Demetrius offered.

"It's fine," Harry stated and raced to his room. His things had all been stored away already, his trunks packed. The only thing wrong was that Hedwig was still missing. He wasn't concerned about her not being able to find him, as she seemed to know where he was instinctually, but he was worried about her absence all the same.

Lugging his trunks and empty cage down the stairs, Harry came to a stop when he heard all the excessive noise from the kitchen, and groaned loudly. Abandoning his things temporarily, he went in search of his missing uncle.

"You look so alike!" the grey suited man was saying as Harry re-entered the room.

"Consider our offer," the second said.

Demetrius was glancing between the pair with obvious amusement. "I think not and I must be off now. Harry say your farewells."

All attention turned to Harry. It was evident that uncle Vernon wanted Harry to stay but, unable to voice his opinions too loudly in the present company, remained silent, if angrily so.

It wasn't a wise thing to burn one's bridges, or so Harry'd been informed once, and bid his family goodbye. It wasn't as heart warming as it could have been, he didn't want to pretend they were a happy family, but he didn't want to look indifferent either. Dudley had been nice enough to him over the last few weeks, Aunt Petunia too, in her odd way. Uncle Vernon, despite thinking of it for his owns means, had even tried to get Harry an occupation.

All in all, not a terribly bad summer.

Outside and awaiting them was a black Rolls Royce. It sat stationed right next to the footpath, even so Harry asked for Demetrius to cast a disillusionment charm on him so he could slip into the vehicle in case he was being watched by Order members.

Demetrius acquiesced, and, fairly quickly, the pair were tearing through the muggle streets unnoticed.

"I couldn't use a portkey," Demertius explained, seeming to read Harry's thoughts. "There are wards active around Privet Drive that would have alerted Dumbledore. I assume I will soon need to apply for guardianship of you, as it won't take long for him to know that you are missing."

Harry nodded slowly, still not quite sure why he was going along with all of this. He glanced around the magically enhanced interior of the car. It was huge, more like a limo, he deemed. Furnished in leather with odds and ends he'd love to touch but was afraid he'd break accidentally.

The white of the leather was bright but surprisingly pleasant, it kind of reminded him of the hospital wing. Sterile. And all the silver of the car's extra fittings was polished until you could use it as a mirror.

Now Harry could see the countryside racing by, much like he would had he been on the Hogwart's express. This caused him to pause, would he even be able to attend the school now, considering he may view his fellow students as potential happy meals?

"Demetrius—" Harry began, deciding to ask. The aforementioned turned as his given name was spoken and frowned over at Harry quizzically.

"Call me 'Uncle', Harry," he instructed. "You are my nephew, after all." He appeared incredibly pleased with that, if his beaming face was anything to go by.

"Uncle," Harry started again, "can you tell me why you waited to make sure I had gone through hereditas before making any attempts to contact me?"

The light in his uncle's eyes vanished for a moment before it was back in place. "I'll answer all your questions as soon as everything's settled. I promise, but first I want you to look out your window and get the first glimpse of your new home, the home you'll inherit when I'm gone."

That perhaps wasn't the best thing for him to say, but Harry turned and found himself gaping at the structure before his eyes.

It was an immensely grand building, only just falling short of what Harry would call a castle. A large manor of a sort, which appeared to be influenced a little in Victorian tastes, making it look somewhat gothic, but somehow not. The most brilliant feature to it, however, was the way it nestled neatly within the cliffs that surrounded it, offering a natural protection all around.

Harry was able to do nothing but stare in awe as the car drove through the outer wall of manor and into it's well protected courtyard where his journey ended.

"Come along now, Harry," his uncle said in barely concealed enthusiasm. "Your aunt so wants to meet you."

With the words barely out of his mouth, the large double doors of the atrium burst open and out stepped a woman regally.

She was delicate, and beautiful, clad in a pale icy blue robes that were cut to emphasise her form. She had waist length waves of black hair as dense as Harry's and sharp eyes a haunting violet. She froze in her movements as she caught sight of Harry, standing next to Demetrius before losing all pretence of nobility and running over and pulling Harry into a deep hug. "He's gorgeous!"

"Let him breathe," Demetrius murmured, sounding like he wanted to laugh, and also a little embarrassed.

The woman glared momentarily at her husband, then turned her attentions back to Harry. "My name is Selene, Demetrius' wife but you can call me 'Aunty.'" She said in a voice that too was lilted and beamed at Harry. "Your chambers have been set up in the Western Wing..." Selene began as she continued to walk away, leading a bemused Harry behind her.

"You're going to get sick of all the attention," Demetrius muttered, quietly so only Harry could hear. His ploy didn't quite work though, and Selene spun to gaze sternly at Demetrius.

"I heard that."

Immediately Demetrius forced a look of utmost innocence.

The three passed through the atrium and up the grand stair case, with Harry barely able to really appreciate what he was seeing.

They stopped however, in front of an ancient looking and very large tapestry. It bore a woman who looked a great deal like Selene, though her hair was a pale blonde, and her eyes the colour of amber. At her side stood a very stoic looking man, his features were similar to Harry's own, though sharper more like Demetrius'. His hair was long, black and sleek. His eyes were a cool grey.

At their feet sat three children. The smallest was a girl who had her father's dark hair but her mother's eyes, while the brother on her left was a near carbon copy of their father. The other had their mother's hair and eyes.

It was then that Harry noticed the diadem hanging at the older woman's brows and a thin golden band threaded around the oldest male's hair.

"The King and Queen of the Angelus," Demetrius said, pride infusing his words. "Mikhail and Yulia Nicolai."

What? Mikhail Nicolai... but did that mean?

Demetrius turned to Harry, smiling. "That's right, Harry. You're royalty."

xXx