A/N: Alright, this hasn't been edited or beta read, so if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, I would be grateful if you could point them out for me!

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Disclaimer: I don't own True Blood or Harry Potter.


The Real Tragedy of Life Is When Men Are Afraid of the Light

Plato

He often dreamt of Grimmauld Place.

Standing outside, on the other side of the street, he would just stare at it and the house would stare back. It was recognizable only because he knew what to look for. The curtains that belonged to another century and the shadowy presence of the house itself. For so long had it been overlooked behind spells and wards, that it had lost itself. And now only a shell remained.

In his dream he would do nothing more than gaze at it. And as superficial seconds passed by Harry always felt as though he, too, was a nonexistent shell, existing for no apparent reason but to collect objects no one desired.

Of course, warm and colorful memories existed inside the house, but they were overpowered by Grimmauld Place's consuming darkness.

Jessie Baxter was a representation, a personification, of the house. He was bewitching in contrast with the building, but the man, just like the house, did not provide any warmth or color. A parasite leeching onto the innocence and beauty around him.

Yes, Harry was fully aware of the toxin spilling out of Jessie.

The music had died down in the car and the overpowering sound of raindrops attacking glass dominated the interior of the vehicle. A flash of cold, white light, soon followed by a deep rumbling. It reminded Harry of a musical performance where the orchestra was the clouds, thunder, lighting and rain; together creating the a foreboding composition. Despite the possibility that it was an omen of things to come, Harry refused to consider it.

After all, he was on his way to a vampire bar with a person he knew was trouble. No other warning was needed. The red lights in the back of his head had been flashing since the first evening he had met Jessie two weeks earlier. He had had enough time to consider life and its meaning, now he only fancied some unfortunate events. A series of unfortunate events.

Jessie's car was nothing out of the ordinary, which had boggled his mind when he first saw it. After asking and receiving a curt reply of , "Contrast of light and dark enhances both of them. My beauty, as you can imagine, is 'light' itself", Harry easily came to the conclusion that it wasn't Jessie's car. And since he did not ask any deeper into the matter, he deduced that it was either a borrowed or a stolen car. Harry really didn't care which.

His gazed at Jessie, whose eyes were undecided of where to look and was constantly jumping between Harry, his pelvis to be exact, and the road. The car remained on the right side of the road, a complimentary achievement in Harry's opinion. Especially, since he, himself, never had steered a muggle vehicle.

"I've never been to the vampire bar," Harry muttered, a teasing smile pulling at his lips as he crossed his legs and rolled his hips. "and maybe you'll remind me why were going there and not to somewhere less… questionable?"

Jessie's eyes was creeping over Harry, leaving a path of slime behind them. His Adam's apple bobbed, and for a moment Harry sighted self-approval before it disappeared and was replaced by open admiration. But for who? "Ah, I understand your fear. Yes, I do, you see I, too, felt uncertain about going there at first. I thought it would devour my beauty, my endless appreciation for eccentric things - But it did not. Quite on the contrary, I was invited inside and welcomed as one of their own! Me! Yes, they did. I and my aura, my lure. Not could I be tasted, for my life blood is… Ah, I am a being of sexual desires." He rambled and as he did Harry followed Jessie's gaze; there, down by Harry's legs, in the side of the car door a small mirror. Displaced and glued amateurishly on the door, paste oozing out on the sides.

Glancing back at Jessie, who was lost in himself, Harry nodded. "Well, that does explain it all," boredom had departed at the arrival of unpredictability. "Do tell me more, Jessie."

Lighting up, Jessie grinned, an expression closer to a grimace than a smile on the man's face."Vampire's are and will be fascinating - more so in their interest in me. When I first went there a woman greeted me specifically! All other visitors walked past, unnoticed and ignored, but me, no, me she did not - could not - disregard. Asking for my ID-card, she studied it for minutes before asking me, captivated, how old I was." He rolled his shoulders, smug. "I guess I look much younger than I really am." Snickering slightly to himself, Harry long forgotten at his side, he continued in a quiet whisper. "I am beauty."

A hard, cold rock had settled in Harry's stomach. If he moved there was a possibility that his lunch would make an appearance and bless them with a mixture of Mac'n Cheese and marmalade. Both agreeable separate, not as a half-digested mass of hatred. Swallowing, he let his head fall back against the seat, considering his current self-destructive tendencies. It was clear that Jessie was bad - hideous - news. And if Harry had any self-preservation then he would run, apparate, do anything to get away.

However, there it was, in the back of his mind; the probability of boredom.

A quick glance at Jessie decided his fate. The man was staring at Harry now. And for the first time he was actually seeing Harry and not his own reflection in his glasses. Cold, assertive and judging, as if deciding a price. As he noticed Harry's gaze, his eyes warmed and his gestured forward, sight slipping back on the road. "We're here,"

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Harry had expected a castle with towers and looming guards, all with moony skin and piercing eyes. However, what had met his eyes as Jessie pulled into a parking slot, was a warehouse with no obvious decoration on the exterior and only a somewhat concealed neon sign indicated that they had, indeed, found Fangtasia.

Lean bodies moved over the front square, pulled into the bar though a open door. It was stunning to observe the movements of the creatures of the night for the first time. Harry had read of them, even seen pictures, but never had he spoken to one. Excitement bubbled up, and Harry gripped Jessie's arm forcibly as he pointed to the entrance with his other hand. "Is that it?" A question only meant to voice his thrill.

Jessie hissed in pain and pinched Harry's skin, forcing him to let go in discomfort. Nursing his stinging hand, he glared at Jessie, who looked at the entrance in contemplation. "Mmmm…" A humming, affirmative sound in the back of his throat was all Jessie replied with.

Not desiring to spend another second in the car, he opened the door and patted Jessie on the shoulder. "Let's go," Pushing his leg out, he hesitated. "I want to go inside."

Jessie pursed his lips. "I think we should go inside, let's go." He murmured and it was clear that he hadn't listened to a thing Harry had said. So engrossed was he in his reflection. It was tedious at this point. Maybe he had overestimated Jessie's ability to humor him with his narcissistic tendencies.

As they strolled up towards the entrance a thrumming noise reached their ears. The sound of drunken human beings and hungry vampires moving together with the music. It was entrancing in its sheer sexuality and lack of self-consciousness. Harry could see why Jessie liked the place; it was swarmed with people absorbed by beauty in every aspect.

The bar was furnished in a careful balance between overpowering red and consuming black, not welcoming nor rejecting its guests. Entering, Harry's eyes fell on the dancing mass of bodies, sweaty from twisting movements and desires. His language was incapable of describing the whirlwind of sensations breezing though the room.

Jessie guided him up to an empty table, a cool hand resting at Harry's hips. The air stilled as they walked across the floor and he noticed some beings halting in their careful seduction to gaze their way. A cold shiver ran down his spine. It had to be Jessie's reputation gathering their attention, he told himself as he sat down by a table.

"I'll get us some drinks," Jessie shouted over the music as he trudged to the bar counter. Harry lifted his hand to catch his attention, but with no avail. He hadn't specified what he wanted to drink.

The entire evening was turning out to be a let down. A horrible, revolting feeling was struck in his throat, refusing to let go, and the intense stares sent his way shock his very being. Harry could invite death and trouble without a second thought, but fevered gazes alarmed him in a way nothing else could.

He gazed around the room, only studying people with flowing blood. Whatever it was that had caught the vampires' scrutiny, Harry wanted nothing to do with it. However, judging by how they looked at him, there was little chance of him rejecting the substance that had captured their minds.

Still, wasn't it this he had yearned for? Fear and exhilaration mixed together, surging though his veins? A twisted smile pulled at his lips and he leaned his head back, displaying a pale neck. As if on cue, a ferocious snarl joined the pulsing music. Yes, this was it, Harry though as his hands twitched in instinctive terror.

"A Bloody Mary for you," Jessie murmured as he placed a wine glass in front of him, forcing Harry out from his inner monologue and halting advancing men and women. Eyes furrowing in curiosity and puzzlement, he stared down at the glass, not sure how to interpret the choice of cocktail.

"Thanks," he supplied after a second. "Though… Why a Bloody Mary and not," he nodded towards Jessie's foaming beverage. "A beer?"

Jessie shrugged. "Why not? You certainty seem like a person who'd enjoy a Bloody Mary." Harry had no idea how to decipher the comment and decided to kept his mouth blissfully shut. Instead choosing to stare skeptically down into the cocktail's red liquid.

"How is it? Is it good?" Jessie asked nonchalantly. A bizarre question when they both knew he hadn't touched it.

"I haven't tasted it yet," Harry replied truthfully as he looked at Jessie. "It's… fitting, don't you think? Drinking a Bloody Mary in a bar crowded with blood-thirsty vampires."

"Ah, yes," An indifferent, detached answer; Jessie was somewhere else once again. Nodding for no apparent reason at all, Harry lifted the cocktail to let the liquid pour down the back of his throat. He was in dire need to cloud his judgements and be as intoxicated as possible.

As he emptied his glass, his eyes fell on Jessie. Though the crystal, the man was distorted and disfigured, an ugly figure of deformities with eyes gleaming in greed and self-indulgence.

He placed the glass carefully down when it was empty, feeling an euphoric mixture of dread and ecstasy surge though him.

"It's good," Harry murmured. "Very good, in fact."

"I know," Jessie breathed out in excitement as he leaned against the table, staring into Harry's glazed eyes. "I'll get you another one, wait a minute." He pushed his chair back and stood up, nodding in pleasure at Harry before he sauntered away.

"No, I-" Harry began but as soon as he opened his mouth, his breath stuttered and his hand flew up to press against his lips and nose. A nauseousness that did not originate from instinctive or foreboding emotions had risen up his throat, threatening to expel the contents of his stomach.

He opened his eyes, not remembering when he had closed them, and glanced around after Jessie. The man was leaning against the bar counter, staring in Harry's direction.

Harry inhaled shakily as he tried to swallow down the queasiness. Leaning forward to rest his head on the table, he felt how his stomach was turning in on itself, skin swiftly losing its cool, heating up, and his head rolling in disorientation.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Jessie asked as he stalked up to their table with another Bloody Mary. "I can't recommend resting here, too many people would take advantage of you. Are you… sick?" Harry considered sending a swift curse at him, but reconsidered. Jessie Baxter had signed up for something far worse. His beautiful hair had to be extracted and his eyes gorged out, forever denying him the sigh of himself. Yes, Harry could already imagine it.

He sat up straight, exhaling as he stared down at another Bloody Mary in front of him. Jessie could wait to be mutilated. Harry was too curious about the outcome of the evening to halt or retreat.

"Cheers," he murmured, smiling broadly as he swallowed scarlet poison.

To be continued!

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