Chapter : {One}
On the morning of his seventeenth birthday, Harry awoke from the most disturbing dream he'd had yet. Which was saying something, because his dreams had always been far from pleasant.
In it, a gigantic three-headed, bat-winged monstrosity flew overhead, laughing manically and shooting off fire. And Harry stood before him, holding in one hand a jar of water and in the other a dusty old leather whip. The creature would taunt him and dare him to strike, but Harry, quite frankly, had no idea what he was supposed to do against this thing with water and a flimsy whip.
The one of the thing's heads bit him in the neck, and he started growing wings himself. The creature started devouring him, ripping open his chest and feeding on his insides and he remained alive for all of it. And then, just as the creature reached his bones, he woke up, scream dying on his lips.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry crept as silently as he could out of his room and down the steps. He knew better than to expect any presents from any of the Dursleys, but he was holding out hope that the Weasley's and Hermione's presents would get here soon.
He stopped halfway down the steps to the sounds of his Uncle Vernon voicing his displeasure very loudly at someone who was in the kitchen. A male voice, one Harry didn't recognize, was responding to him calmly and quietly.
Not able to make out either end of the conversation since Vernon's bellowing was too loud and garbled and the other man's voice was too soft and quiet, Harry snuck further down the steps and poked his head around the kitchen door.
A man was sitting at the kitchen table. He looked young, mid-20s probably, with flowing black hair that was longer than Harry was expecting on a man. He wore a dark, well-pressed business suit and sat upright in the chair, arms folded, in perfect posture. His expression was almost perfectly neutral.
Vernon, his fat slob of an uncle, was not so much sitting as hovering over a chair with his knees bent, his arms flailing about in the air as spit projected from his oversized mouth from his unintelligible ramblings. Harry was just about to duck out before Vernon could drag him into it when the stranger looked over and caught his eye.
Bloody hell, thought Harry unhappily.
The stranger reached into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked like a pocketwatch. He opened it up and casually tossed it at Vernon. Harry's uncle immediately froze in place. Even the spittle seemed to hover in the air.
"Ah, Harry," said the man, "glad you're awake."
"Was that magic?" Harry asked excitedly, stepping out of his hiding place.
"Of a sort."
Harry crooked his head. "Wait, who are you? How do you know me?"
"My name is Genya Arikado," said the man, "and I'm a friend of your family."
"I assume you mean the Potters and not the Dursleys, because I'm pretty sure that they have no friends."
Genya chuckled. "Actually, I meant the Evans'. Your mother's clan."
"Oh," said Harry. "Weird."
"Do you mind if I take you somewhere, Harry? I have a good deal of explaining to do."
Harry glanced over to his uncle. "Is he going to stay like that?"
"Not for very much longer."
"Then we'd better hurry. Do I have time to get my owl?"
Pairing: Dracula/Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort
Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Sexual and Homosexual content, OOC, AU, OC, Vampire fic, more warnings to be added as they occur.
Comments: Bit of humor thrown it. It'll probably be a theme in this.
