Disclaimer: Recognisable characters and plot devices are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and various authors of vampire fiction.

Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood

Chapter Three: Decisions

Harry spent the day cleaning his room thoroughly while Charles watched and gave a little magical aid. "Becoming a vampire didn't stop me from being a wizard, I just got the added advantage of vampire magic," he said when Harry asked him about his using a wand.

They packed everything of any importance to Harry into his trunk. "You will not require any of the Muggle clothes," Charles said, turning his nose up when Harry opened his wardrobe. "You will not really need your robes either, as we can buy you new ones without any trouble, but if you wish to bring them, go ahead."

Harry thought about, and ended up packing one of his school robes and his dress robes, just in case he wanted them. His most important possessions went in the trunk first: his invisibility cloak, his photo album, his Firebolt and various gifts from his friends over the years. His school books were the next in, followed by his wand.

"That's about everything," Harry admitted.

Charles nodded. "In that case perhaps you would like to write your letter to Headmaster Dumbledore – Hedwig can take it to him and then continue straight on to my home. We should be gone before she reaches the Headmaster."

Harry nodded and sat down at his empty desk, rummaging in his bag to dig out a quill and ink. He thought for a long time about what he should write to the Headmaster.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I know that you believe remaining with my Aunt is the best thing for me, but I cannot agree. I need time, and someone who understands what I've been going through to help me get over Sirius's death.

I have found exactly the place that I need, and I'm hoping you will understand when I do not tell you where I am. I know that you will not approve, but I have every intention of going through with this, no matter what you might think of the arrangement. I am safe, don't worry about that, and I will be at Hogwarts for the new term, when September the first comes around.

I am safe from Voldemort here as well, he will not find me, and neither will you. Do not try to follow Hedwig back, this place is unplottable, and it won't work. Just leave me alone for the holidays, and let me get used to things on my own. THIS IS WHAT I WANT, and if you try anything else, I won't be happy about it.

I'm sorry for worrying you, but I've done what I had to.

From Harry.

P.S. You can write to me here if you want to, but only if Hedwig is bearing the messages. Do not try to persuade me any differently. My mind is made up. But I would like to hear from my friends, so please let them know that they can send me letters here.

He offered the finished product to Charles, who read over it quickly. "Nice and to the point," was the only comment he made as he handed the page back to Harry, who carefully folded it and gave it to Hedwig.

"Girl, I need you to take this to Dumbledore, I'm not sure exactly where he is – at Hogwarts or in London. If he's really close by, I don't want him getting this message until after sundown, ok?" he said quietly to his faithful owl, who hooted reassuringly.

"May I speak with her a moment?" Charles enquired, taking the owl on his arm only when Harry nodded his approval. He spoke too softly for Harry to overhear what he was saying, but when he finished Hedwig hooted again and took off out the open window.

"I was just making sure she would be able to find us again once she has delivered your message," Charles said quietly, and Harry nodded. "Now, I think we're all done here," he added, looking around. Harry glanced around as well. Nothing was left in the room to suggest that he had ever been here. Dudley's cast offs and everything else he had decided not to keep had been banished by Charles and everything else had been packed carefully away in his trunk.

A few charms from Charles had the room perfectly clean, the paint renewed and the window shining, his bed made neatly in the corner. Dudley's old books and toys, banished to a corner since Harry had moved up here when he was eleven, where returned to their previous place on the shelves.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Now we go and catch a train," Charles announced cheerfully. "I think we can leave now. Do not worry; your watcher will not notice us leaving."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, while Charles shrunk his trunk and pocketed it.

"Glasgow," Charles said cheerfully. "It'll take most of the night, I'm afraid, but you can sleep on the way." Harry nodded in agreement, yawning slightly; having a good night's sleep last night had left him feeling like he could use a lot more.

"Let's go and get tickets then."

They walked to the train station very quickly and were soon on the train and heading toward Glasgow. The train was fairly devoid of occupants when it left Little Whinging, most people seeming to travel at earlier hours, so Harry and Charles ended up with a carriage of their own. "I can pay you back for the ticket," Harry offered.

Charles just looked at him. "Harry, you are my family, my only family. I have accepted the responsibility of housing you and taking care of you as your guardian. Usually there would be legal channels for this that we would have to go through, but obviously we can't at this point in time. When I asked you to come and live with me, I did so with the intention of being someone you can rely on - for financial support, among other things.. I will provide you with everything you need and most things that you want, and I do not expect repayment of any sort."

Harry was confused, and his confusion must have shown on his face, because Charles spoke again, gently, "I saw what your Aunt and Uncle were like – as your legal guardians, they didn't act in the least as one would have hoped, or expected. You have never known what it is like to have a guardian who intends to fulfill that role to the utmost. Now you do. It will take some getting used to, but I am here for you now."

Harry nodded slowly, and they lapsed into a silence. Somewhere along the way, Charles started humming softly under his breath, and Harry felt his eyelids begin to droop. Suddenly, he was snapping awake, and the train was stopping. "Did I fall asleep?" he asked, a little stupidly.

Charles smiled slightly. "You did indeed," he replied. "We are now in Glasgow, and not far from my-our-home. Come along, we'd best get moving, I'm looking forward to the comforts of my own home, and I think you will like my house. I am quite eager to get your opinion on it."

Harry got up, a little unsteady from sleeping sitting down, and followed the vampire out of the station and down the deserted streets of the city at this late our. They walked until they were reaching the outskirts of Glasgow, where the houses had greater gaps between them, and were a lot bigger than those closer to the city centre.

Some time later, they started up the driveway to a large estate house, with sweeping grounds and a small water garden off to one side. The house itself was old, with cathedral windows and a wide staircase leading up to the huge front doors.

There were statues at the bottom of the staircase too. Dragons, with their wings spread back, mouths agape, staring down at the approaching pair. The place screamed of money, Harry thought as they walked. The front doors were arched and made of some old wood and on either side of them stained glass windows rose, etched with patterns of roses and vines. "Nice," Harry remarked, although the word was incredibly inadequate to describe the luxury that was paraded before him.

"I'm glad you approve," Charles accepted the compliment. "This is one of the Potter's ancestral houses. It was overlooked by the family during a war in the 1800s, so I moved in and made myself at home. I've been here ever since – the people around here believe that it's held by a family who all look very much alike, which is true, as the Potters do tend to bear an uncanny resemblance to one another."

"What about the Ministry?" Harry asked. "Don't they realise that you're a vampire? They would realise, wouldn't they?"

"They think that the Muggles are just being superstitious. They know that the house belongs to wizards, or they think it does, anyway, and they have the supposed death certificates of the previous people in the family – they don't care. I send a generous 'donation' to them each year, and they keep out of it. They have no reason to suspect me, and they want bother to look for one as long as I keep giving the money."

"But that's bribery," Harry said, shocked, "Isn't that wrong?"

Charles laughed. "So innocent," he remarked, and smiled slightly when Harry looked annoyed by the comment. "As far as I'm concerned, it's a donation – I give to the poorer parts of the Ministry, particularly the health organisations. They need the extra money, and take it as a bride, although to begin with it was never intended as such. It simply turned out that way, and it's easier to get by for both of us, with this arrangement."

"I guess," Harry said slowly, deciding to let the comment about 'innocence' slide for the moment. It all sounded very Malfoy as far as he was concerned, but what Charles did with his money was his own business, he supposed. And donating to health organisations was a good thing, they always seemed to need more money, and they were helping people, which was good.

Charles walked up the steps ahead of Harry, certainly seeming very happy to be home, and threw open the doors, which opened inward, then turned to smile at Harry, bowing slightly, welcoming his descendant to his home. Behind Charles, Harry could see the entrance hall–it was even grander than the one at Hogwarts. "Welcome to my humble abode," the vampire said, with a proud smile. He had reason to be proud too, Harry thought, looking around.

This house had electricity, a Muggle luxury few wizards employed, either because they were too proud, or because they didn't understand enough about it to be able to use it even if they did have it. But the vampire seemed to have no such reservations. Lit by a giant chandelier and numerous lights almost hidden in the rest of the splendour, golden light fell down upon a plush red carpet, there were small plants scattered around the room, making it look more welcoming, with golden statues of magical creatures interspersed among them.

The walls were wood paneling, polished until it shone, and lining the walls were gold framed portraits of Harry's ancestors, looking down upon their descendant with expressions varying from stern, to happy grins, sad smiles and many others. There no portraits that portrayed anger, which was one thing that Harry noted. They all looked very like him, except for those who must have married into the family. Charles wasn't kidding when he said family resemblance was strong amongst the Potters.

Ahead of him was a sweeping stairway, leading up to the next floor. Going along to either side of it, deep into the ground floor of the mansion were long galleries, with more portraits, and, Harry imagined, eventually they would find doors leading off to other rooms.

Above the staircase was a huge tapestry, made of red cloth, with names picked out in gold embroidery. He could not read the names, although he knew who's they would be, for he had seen a tapestry very similar to this one gracing the walls in Grimmauld Place, recounting the names of past Blacks, although this one was a lot better preserved than the Black's had been. This was an account of his own ancestors …

This tapestry dwindled down, and as each generation came, there were less people within it. Now, Harry realised with a sad jolt, there was only name on the bottom row, and that must be his own. But there was one other Potter left as well, even if he was a vampire, although according to the tapestry, Charles would be dead.

"Why is the room all in Gryffindor colours?" He asked, "You said that you were in Slytherin."

"And so I was. But I did not build this house, I just moved in when everyone else seemed to have forgotten about it. Most of your line was in Gryffindor. My grandson married the descendant of one of Godric Gryffindor's brothers, so you can claim some Gryffindor blood, although not the blood of Godric himself, as he died childless," Charles replied.

"I'm related to one of the Founder's of Hogwarts?" Harry demanded, surprised.

"Many people can claim the same thing – while Godric had no children, he had eight siblings, all of whom had rather large broods. The Weasley's have more Gryffindor blood than the Potters, and several others do as well. It comes out more in our family and in the Weasley's than it does in most. All of the Gryffindor family had the red hair and the tendency for many children. The Gryffindor genes seemed to have been overridden by the Potter ones in our own family."

"Do the Weasley's know about that?" Harry asked, thinking that Ron would have probably mentioned that he was descended from Godric Gryffindor if he knew.

"Oh, certainly. You know how important blood is to the old families," Charles said, "But as I said, a great many families have Gryffindor blood on in them, it is hardly something to brag about. It was similar with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, although Slytherin's line dwindled sadly over the years. As you know, Voldemort is his only surviving descendant. Potters, like the Weasley's, have a tendency to end up in Gryffindor, except in extreme situations."

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," Harry told Charles, a fact which had told in the past only to Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm not surprised," Charles said, "After what happened with Voldemort it would have been expected – you are linked to the Heir of Slytherin through that scar of yours, it is unsurprising that you should have certain magnetism in the direction of that house. You fall under the category of extreme situation, and you evidently chose to avoid that particular House."

"I'd heard that Slytherin had a lot of evil wizards from it, and I didn't want to end up there, so I asked not to go there. It put me in Gryffindor instead, which I've never regretted."

"Our choices make us who we are," Charles said easily, unknowingly echoing the words that Albus Dumbledore had spoken back when Harry was in his second year at Hogwarts and worried that he might not belong in Gryffindor, even though he loved the house.

Harry smiled happily at that, and was put at ease by Charles's words, that there had been others like him who had been influenced towards other houses; he wouldn't have wanted to be a black sheep in the family, after all.

"The entrance hall is one of the grander rooms in the house," Charles added, "Most of them are a lot less imposing but our family has always been proud of its wealth and heritage, and most of the public rooms are just as intensely decorated. I've never had the inclination to change it. The Dining Room and the Ball Room are most notable for their appearance, although the library is, I would be the first to admit, quite impressive as well."

Charles led Harry up the staircase to the second floor, and, although the main corridor was pretty impressive, when Charles led them off it and into a small living room, Harry blinked a little from the difference. This room was lit by soft lamps, rather than harsh lights, and the pictures on the wall were just that, pictures of flowers and fantasy landscapes, rather than portraits of the old Potters. The carpet was blue, rather than red, and there were inviting leather arm chairs around an empty fireplace.

Charles gestured for Harry to take a seat, and a bell that was sitting on the mantelpiece above the fire. A moment later a young woman appeared in the doorway. "Master Charles, you have returned!" she said with a smile, then noticed Harry, "And you have a guest!"

She wrinkled her nose slightly at the ragged appearance of Harry's clothes, but otherwise seemed unsurprised at his presence. "You were successful then?"

"Yes," Charles nodded. "Lucy, this is Harry Potter; the sole surviving member of my blood. He has agreed to live with us for the remainder of the summer. Harry, this is Lucy, she is my maid."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said.

"Likewise Master Harry," Lucy nodded and returned her attention to Charles, "Can I get you anything?" she enquired.

"You can indeed; a light breakfast and tea for me, anything for you Harry?"

"Uh, the same I guess," Harry said, and Lucy nodded, leaving the room quickly.

"If you ever need of anything here just ring the bell, and someone will come for you, either one of the house elves - there are two - or Lucy," Charles replied. "There is a groundskeeper, a man by the name of Wilfred, but you'll meet him later."

"You have house elves?" Harry asked.

"Of course. They have been serving the family for generations," Charles replied, "Although the Potter's never went in for treating them as anything other than willing servants, never slaves, as many families do. It would be an unkindness to set them free, after all. They have a good home, get good treatment, and are doing something that they enjoy."

Harry nodded, glad that Hermione wasn't with him. She would be freaking out at the mention of house elves, after all. "Lucy and Wilfred … are they human?" he asked.

"Of course," Charles said mildly. "They both attended Hogwarts some years ago, but don't have any great prowess at magic. They have enough to deal with most things they'll come up working with me. They know about vampires and know that they don't have to be afraid of me. They know all about the magical world, so things like the moving portrait gallery don't worry them at all."

Harry nodded his understanding. "So they know all about you then?" he asked.

"Yes," Charles replied, "If I go too long without a feed, or am doing something too important to interrupt for the business of hunting both are quite happy to allow me to drink some of their blood. Not much, and not often, because that would make them sick, but enough to be going with at the time. It is very useful, sometimes. I would not hide my true nature from any who live with me, to do so would be highly discourteous … and the truth always seems to find a way of getting out."

Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of the vampire feeding on him. He didn't think he could ever just allow Charles to drink his blood, it seemed too…weird. He supposed he should be used to weird things happening, really, given that he went to Hogwarts and all.

Charles saw the shudder, and guessed what it meant. "You have no need to worry about me feeding on you," he assured Harry. "Vampire law decrees that feeding on children is a sin beyond all measure, because their bodies cannot cope with the loss of the blood, and such an action could have far reaching consequences. We count children as being fifteen years or younger. It is also against our laws to turn anyone under the age of twenty one, unless in the last extremes of saving that persons life."

Harry nodded, feeling a little bit better at that, and before he had the opportunity to ask more questions, Lucy arrived again, now burdened by a tray that looked as if it were about to collapse under the sheer weight of food that was piled upon it. Harry thought Charles had asked for a light breakfast.

She set the tray down, "Anything else, Master Charles?"

"No, that will be all for the moment," Charles replied, and Lucy curtseyed and hurried out to go about her other tasks "Dig in," Charles advised Harry, nodding to the breakfast, and Harry was surprised to find himself feeling very hungry.

He and Charles both ate rather ravenously, and Harry wondered if Charles was getting hungry for something other than human food. He shouldn't be, if what he had said about draining the Death Eater was true.

When they finished, Charles rang the bell again, but it wasn't Lucy who came to take the plates away. When the plates disappeared without any sign of someone being there, Harry guessed that a house elf had come to deal with them.

"I would suggest giving you a tour of the house, but it is rather large and you still seem weary from the journey. Perhaps I could show you to your room instead?" Charles offered.

"That would be great," Harry admitted, covering a yawn.

He followed Charles out of the room and down a new passage. There was a main corridor on the second floor, Harry would learn, that led to a couple of small rooms, as well as the main 'public' rooms on this floor, but there was a warren of passages that led through the rest of the floor, leading to all of the private rooms, of which Harry's bedroom was one. As the house was magic, Harry was fairly sure that it was bigger on the inside than it appeared to be from the exterior of the dwelling.

His own room was on the far side of the house, looking out over the water garden that he had noticed on the way to the house, and was much bigger than any of the rooms in the entirety of the Dursley's house had been. There was a walk-in wardrobe that was completely empty - which made him feel rather embarrassed - a personal bookshelf, also empty, but he supposed that would be dealt with in time, a king sized four poster bed with soft blue hangings, a large desk on which he could do homework, and the exterior wall was made up of glass windows giving him a perfect view over the grounds.

There was a stand with a cage hanging from it just beside an open window, just waiting for Hedwig to come and take residence there. It was much larger than the cage she normally had at the Dursley's and Harry was looking forward to her arriving so that she could see it.

"Sleep well," Charles told Harry with a smile, "If you wish to leave the room, you might want to summon Lucy or the house elves, because this house is very easy to get lost in until you learn your way around. I wouldn't want you to end up wandering around the house lost, it could take awhile to find you again!"

Harry nodded absently, still a little overcome by the luxury of the room. "There is an en suite," Charles added, nodding to a door on one side of the room, "If you wish to bath before you sleep." With that, he saw himself out, before Harry could thank him for the room.

"Wow," He whispered, looking around. He was, however, too tired to want to explore the room more thoroughly at that moment, and simply climbed into his bed, nestling into the warm covers and falling asleep in seconds, perfectly at peace for the first time those holidays.

He woke up again probably only a few hours later and pulled open the drapes that Charles had closed over the windows. The sun was well and truly up now, and the view of the garden was simply spectacular. Harry looked around his room and noticed that his trunk had been left by the door.

He went over and opened it, taking out his all of his most treasured possessions. His school books went onto the bookshelf, filling the top two rows, the various presents from his friends over the years he arranged on the surfaces around the room. He put his quills and stacks of parchment on the otherwise empty desk, and hung his invisibility cloak and his single Hogwarts robe up in the wardrobe.

That done, he decided to explore the en-suite, which looked like a room modeled on something in the far distant future. It was covered in marble tiles, with fluffy white towels and a bath robe hanging on the door. The taps and door handles were polished to shine like gold, and there was a spa bath in the centre of the room, with oils, hair products, bubble bath and much more resting around the edges.

Like the rest of the house, the room screamed of money, and the luxury of it made him feel a little out of place after living with the Dursley's. Even at Hogwarts he had never really had access to something like this. The Prefect bathroom that he had visited once in fourth year had come close, but it didn't really have anything on this.

After awhile of simply standing and looking around, Harry decided that he should try out the spa. Once he'd filled the bath, scented the water, and added bubble bath, he turned on the jets and letting them massage his body and relaxed him totally.

When he got out, some time later, it was almost painful to pull on the old clothes of Dudley's he had been wearing all summer. They felt out of place and completely ridiculous when compared to the rest of the house. He wondered how Charles would feel about taking him shopping for some new clothes very soon; he really didn't like the feeling.

Revised 20 October 2008

A few more minor changes in this and the other recent chapters. Just issues with flow and grammar that seemed more apparent this time around.

WolfMoon