The Road Not Taken

Chapter Three: The Kidnap

"I wouldn't use that word, but yes, that is, exactly what I intend," Ixander said calmly, after a short pause.

Harry looked from one to the other. Jolly-Sebastian, that is, looked very angry.

"It's been two decades, Ixander. Long enough for you to register that you are not a-not a wizard, any longer."

"I know that," Ixander said icily.

"Why, then, do you continue to give your attention, and your loyalty to them?"

Getting angry with a vampire was a very frightening thing. The two vampires faced each other now, eyes practically glowing with anger. Harry didn't really understand what they were arguing about, but he had an inkling that it had something to do with him. Harry shrank back into the couch.

"I do no such thing, but I do not need to justify myself to you. You are my sire, not my master. If you disagree, we part here."

Sebastian snarled. It was animalistic, and authentically vampirish. Ixander kept his poker face, and didn't even flinch.

"Then we shall part," he spat in a low voice, turning to go. Ixander was in his way in a flash.

"I need an oath from you, that you will tell no one, especially not the Volturi."

Sebastian bared his teeth in a feral smile.

"Why should I not? If you are so certain that you do right, then why do you fear to be known? You contradict yourself, my young friend."

Ixander was quite young, Harry realised. He looked to be about twenty, while Sebastian was in his early thirties. But then, how could it 'have been two decades'? Did vampires not age?

"Give me the oath, and I will let you go," Ixander said quietly.

Sebastian shook his head slowly, an evil smile on his face.

"I don't think I will. Stop me if you can, boy. If you can't…well. I made you. It's very romantic that I should destroy you also, don't you think?" Sebastian laughed.

It happened very fast, so fast Harry had no time to see who attacked first. If he had doubted that they weren't human before, those doubts were gone now. No human could brawl in this way. Biting and ripping and tearing, all lightening fast, so that they were just a blur. It couldn't have been very long that Harry stood there, frozen and helpless. Then Ixander yelped, and Sebastian laughed again that chilling laugh, shot Harry a vicious glare, and disappeared out of the door in a flash.

Ixander swore so vehemently Harry wondered if he should cover his ears. But then again, he'd heard them all before from Vernon. Ixander sank to the ground with a muffled groan, and only then did Harry realise why he was clutch his right arm with his left so very tightly-it had been sliced right off. The horror overtook Harry for a moment, and he retched, slapping his hand over his mouth as he fought to keep his stomach down. It probably helped that there was no sign of blood. Maybe vampires didn't have blood.

When he finally gathered up the courage to look up at Ixander through his fringe, the vampire seemed much recovered. It seemed that vampires healed very fast indeed, as the flesh and bone was quickly knitting itself back together. Ixander saw him looking and smiled tightly.

"Never seen blood and gore before, child?"

Harry shrugged, for want of a better reply. In his usual mood, he would have pointed out the lack of blood, but he was feeling rather too sick for that.

"Do you have anywhere to return to?"

Harry shook his head.

"Come to think of it, why were you in Godric's Hollow? This place is mighty hard to penetrate, which is why we had chosen to stay here."

"Godric's Hollow?" Harry repeated, frowning.

Ixander raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, were you not aware that this place is called Godric's Hollow?"

"I thought I was still in Privet Drive," Harry said, astonished.

"Where's that?"

"In Little Whinging, Surrey."

Ixander smiled strangely.

"Godric's Hollow is on the edge of Wiltshire."

Geography wasn't Harry's strongest subject, but even he knew that was pretty far away. How could he have gotten to Wiltshire?

"That doesn't make sense," he declared.

"Of course it makes sense. Godric's Hollow was the home of the Potter family, ten years ago. Somehow, you must have gotten yourself here."

Harry blanched, and looked around him. Yes, he quickly realised that this had once been a medium sized cottage, hints of home in the decor here and there. But it must have been abandoned since his parents died, the place was falling down, a wall crumbled here, dust piled up there. This was his home? His very first, truest home? It felt warm, all of a sudden. How many times had he imagined his own parents? This, surely, was the very closest he had been to them.

Where he was standing was an abandoned living room, the wallpaper turned yellow and curled at the edges, the carpet full of dust, the couch, which he had woken up on, full of holes. There was a picture on the wall, covered with dust. Harry walked over, rubbing at the glass with his sleeve.

In the picture, a young woman stood with a baby cradled in her arms, a handsome young man behind her, laughing, his arms wrapped around her waist, sneaking kisses in while the baby distracted her, waving his chubby arms. Harry didn't need to ask to know that these were his parents, and the baby was him. His heart clenched. How he yearned to see his parents alive again. He didn't even have one little memory of them.

He turned, to see Ixander standing behind him, also looking at the picture. His arm seemed well healed.

"Why does the picture move?" He asked.

"You soak it in a potion," Ixander replied.

"So my parents were wizards?"

"And so are you."

Somehow, that surprised Harry very little. After the surreal events of today, he probably wouldn't have batted an eyelash had Ixander told him that his parents were vampires. It occurred to him that this explained many, many things-such as how he had turned his teacher's hair blue, why his hair grew back whenever it was cut, why he had turned up on the roof while Dudley was chasing him. It was enough to make his head hurt, but he suddenly realised that it didn't. That didn't seem much surprising either.

"I should take you home," Ixander said.

Harry scowled; he did not want to go back to the Dursleys, especially not now that he had learnt this much. If he was a wizard, he could definitely exist on his own. He shook his head.

"Where do you live?"

"Here," Harry said defiantly.

Ixander stared at him.

"You cannot stay here. Nor can I. If Sebastian returns to find us, we will both die."

"Then I'll go," Harry said, spying his backpack dropped by the couch, "I can manage on my own."

Ixander watched silently as Harry picked up his backpack, and ever so carefully, stood on his toes and took the picture off the wall. He put it into his backpack, then slung it onto his back. He only got as far as the door. Ixander pulled him back.

"You are not going alone. You have no idea how dangerous it is out there, especially for you. Come with me."

Harry looked stubborn.

"I don't eat little wizards," Ixander said dryly.

"You drink their blood," Harry accused.

Ixander shook his head.

"You don't know anything about wizards or vampires, or this world of ours. Come, I will tell you about it on the way."

That, rather than anything else, is what made Harry follow him, through the door, and past the little garden. It didn't stop Harry from protesting when Ixander demanded he got on his back so they could go faster. But a vampire only has so much patience with little children, which is why he threw Harry over his shoulder, backpack and all, utterly ignored all Harry's efforts to be put down, and ran at the same pace as the wind.


A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read my story, and especially those who favourited and reviewed. This seems to be my most successful story so far, actually. However, I'd really appreciate some more reviews-it doesn't matter if you just tell me that you liked it or that you didn't. Constructive critisism is very welcome too. I'm growing a bit short on ideas here~