III - The First Kill
It was very dark in the large yard of Riddle Manor. The trees were sinister and leave less, mere shadows against the dark blue sky. A black cat was sitting in the middle of the yard in a spot where there were no trees, as if waiting for something or someone.
Suddenly it started to get really windy. The sky got covered in a matter of moments with thick clouds and there was the sound of thunder. The cat looked up at the sky and meowed just as several strange shadows appeared in the sky. They looked like tornadoes coming from the within the clouds themselves as they approached the ground.
When they made contact with the earth, silhouettes of humans in black hooded robes and white skull masks appeared among swirls of strong wind, materializing as if they came from thin air. Two came down at the same time first, then came three, four, and even more, all in groups. The cat ran across the silhouettes as fast as it could, unnoticed.
As soon as they stepped on the ground, they walked toward the house automatically, as if they were programmed to do so. They went in a line formation toward the left corner of the house and crowded around a part of the wall.
The first one that arrived, a woman, stood right in front of the wall and took out her wand. She traced the shape of a doorway right before her, clockwise, with her wand. As she did so, a bright white light marked what she had traced. She then stepped into the wall and disappeared behind it, momentarily causing the wall to have waves as if it had turned to liquid. One by one, the others followed her. After they all entered the wall, the light disappeared completely and it looked exactly as it did before.
They walked down ancient looking stone stairs. The hall in front of them was wide and lit with torches that hung on the walls. On each of its sides were many doorways to other corridors, entrances and rooms. It was like part of a luxurious castle, but underground. It was impossible that such a huge underground place could fit under the mansion that stood above it if it wasn't for very powerful magic.
The group of dark hooded figures entered one of the first doors to the left, to their usual meeting place.
"Master!" cried the first one with emotion as she pulled down her hood, which caused her Death Eater's mask to disappear. She went near the tall, thin figure that was standing in the middle of the fire-lit common room. It would have impressed anyone to see how the woman fearlessly approached that unnatural looking thing with a snake-like face and bright red eyes.
"Good evening," whispered the thing as the woman kneeled before it and kissed the hem of its robe. "At last you've arrived, my children. I sense you've brought me success."
"We have, my Lord," answered Bellatrix Lestrange as she straightened up, her eyes shining with a fanatical glow. The Dark Lord held her for a moment as they embraced and she kissed his cheek. "Before they arrived we killed twenty muggles - painfully," she added with a sadistic smile. "We also killed two Aurors. None of us were harmed or caught."
"Excellent," said Lord Voldemort, and the woman could not be more excited to see her master express satisfaction. She stood beside him as the others greeted their Lord, one by one as they approached. When they were in front of him they also pulled down theirs hoods to reveal their real faces to their master, and then kissed the hem of his robes. After they did this they walked away from their master and proceeded to greet each other.
The men greeted each other with respectful, firm handshakes, slightly bowing their heads. They gave the only woman present, Bellatrix, a kiss on each cheek as they greeted her, as they should according to pureblood etiquette. They smiled at each other as they did so in a way anyone would when greeting a close family member. Suddenly the room was filled with the their soft voices as they spoke to each other in a casual but still appropriate tone, like one would during a fancy ceremony. It was evident this was due to the presence of their Master in the room.
They all felt incredible relief to see him pleased, even if he didn't smile. "You have done well," he declared, as he held up his arms in a welcoming gesture. "And of course, your Lord always awards those who please him, which will come very soon. But for now - Wormtail!" he called out. Immediately a small, rat-like man walked toward his master and replied with a shaky voice, "Y-yes, Master?"
"Bring my dear guests some wine at once." He ordered.
"Of course, my Lord!"
"Please," he said in a disturbingly honeyed tone as he turned to his followers. "Sit down and make yourselves comfortable." What must have been a genuinely pleasant smile appeared on the Dark Lord's face as he made a gesture toward all the armchairs that had suddenly appeared in the room, making it look like a common room, all of them facing toward the center where there was an empty space and small tables were placed between them. The Death Eaters sat together and resumed their conversations, expressing their great relief and satisfaction. Wormtail went to each table and waved his wand; a bottle of very expensive wine and already filled wine glasses appeared on each one. The groups of Death Eaters drank their wine and conversed and gave toasts. The Lestranges sat on the "privileged" table, with the Dark Lord.
"My Lord," Bellatrix said reverently, almost affectionately. "My nephew has achieved much progress, in such a short time. He will not disappoint you. I really think he's naturally gifted, as I have seen for myself he already knows the Cruciatus."
"Does he?" asked Voldemort quietly. He was observing his youngest follower yet, who sat at a nearby table with Snape and Nott. Voldemort studied his mind. Indeed he could sense much achievement and satisfaction, which made him even more willing to test him. After all, he did entrust the boy with some of his most important missions yet, and he was not going to tolerate failure. "We shall see Draco's ability very soon, Bella, right here in front of our eyes." Now would be Draco's only chance to prove himself worthy to Voldermort and his most trusted Death Eaters.
Moments later, there was complete silence because the Dark Lord was standing on the middle of the room. His followers all paid close attention and had looks of anticipation.
"As you all know, due to the efforts of my most faithful, I have come much closer to my goal of Eternal Life," boasted Lord Voldemort. "In each of the ceremonies, my already great power has increased even more. At last we are coming closer to imposing Great Slytherin's ideal on this world. And now, the crucial task of continuing this progress lies with our newest and youngest member, who joins us here tonight," he gazed at Draco Malfoy. Everyone had their eyes on the young wizard as he nodded respectfully in acknowledgement, trying to hide his nervousness as much as he could. "Tonight I shall formally present our late second in command's -" The Dark Lord's face became increasingly darker "- only son, Draco, to all of you and he shall prove to us his power and worthiness for carrying out my bidding at such a young age. Draco."
"Yes, my Lord," responded Draco attentively and he quickly stood from his chair.
Voldemort smiled, which made him look even more devilish. "Prove yourself to us, come here and stand beside me."
Draco obeyed and the people in the room whispered to each other. "Next to the Dark Lord, what an honor," one of them said with great admiration. Draco took a deep, silent breath and tried with all his mind power to look calm. He stood next to Voldemort, who was still looking at the people in the room.
"You see, tonight our young Draco will not only try to be formally considered a Death Eater, but he will also provide us with some entertainment for our little gathering." Voldemort gazed at the the young wizard beside him expectantly. "That means you must have fun with it, Draco, make us have fun with it!" The Dark Lord's tone was playful and his smile couldn't be more horrible.
The people in the room laughed sinisterly, clearly anticipating what was to come next.
"Crabbe! Goyle!" commanded Voldemort with another hand gesture, switching back to his fearsome Dark Lord persona. He moved back toward his table and stood in front of it to have the best view of the show, just as the two Death Eaters entered the room.
Draco knew what was coming so he took another deep breath, and squeezed his wand from inside his robes. Before him Crabbe and Goyle (fathers) were holding an exquisitely young and beautiful muggle girl. She was beyond horrified and she looked all around her, whimpering and shaking.
Voldemort's eyes were like two red lights. "Show us your power, Draco. Show us the Curses," he said imperiously. Draco obeyed immediately and took out his wand and pointed it at the helpless girl.
"Curses?" the girl cried unexpectedly, her voice shaking madly. Everyone laughed out loud; high, cold laughs just like Voldemort's, which stood out from all of the others because of its inhuman timbre.
"Yes, my sweet. But do not worry, Draco will get this over with quickly. Won't you, Draco?" he said in a deceivingly kind tone, and the Death Eater's laughs got louder.
She looked back helplessly at Draco and screamed, "Please!" She tried to fight back but it was no use, she couldn't move with Crabbe and Goyle holding her tightly.
Draco decided not to hesitate and just get it over with. "Imperio!" he cried.
The girl's eyes widened and her mouth went shut as soon as she was hit with the beam of light from Draco's wand. She had a dazed expression on her face as she fell into the blank state of mind, awaiting the soundless voice from the wizard that was going to command her actions. Crabbe and Goyle finally let her go and went to join the rest of the Death Eater audience. Draco thought quickly about what he should do. Voldemort's intimidating voice resounded inside his head. Make us have fun with it.
He looked around and the idea came to him immediately; all of them had sick expressions on their faces, but some were looking at the girl in some of the most perverted ways. He knew some of them - he concealed his mind as much as he could as he thought about it - were sick bastards who enjoyed raping some of their victims before killing them, so he would take advantage of this to please all of those vile and twisted wizards who were watching him closely. One of the perverts was - disturbing as it was - Nott, his friend's father. He was the same age as Draco's own father but he loved young pretty girls, and he was looking at the poor girl with the hungriest expression on his cruel face. Draco smirked.
Turn around. Look alluring and caress yourself.
The girl obeyed. She turned around to face the spectators with the most seductive look on her face. She let her hair loose and caressed it, then her chest, breasts, and stomach, twisting her mouth into a smirk. The people in the room laughed with delight, and some of the men made sick comments to each other. By the time her hands were reaching down below...
Look seductively at Nott and then approach him.
He concentrated very hard on who Nott was, looking at him, and soon she did as he commanded with great precision. Nott was smiling and looking at her with desire, and when she began to approach him, he looked at Draco with an expression that showed surprise but also gratefulness. Thanks for sending me the girl, was what he seemed to say. The Dark Lord seemed pleased all the while at the spectacle, apparently not expecting young Malfoy to come up with this type of "entertainment".
Kiss him.
The girl was standing right in front of Nott, who looked up at her wetting his lips, almost like he knew what was coming. She gave him a steamy smile, one she would give to someone she desired more than anything. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, straddling his lap. Everyone laughed and laughed, except Snape, who was sitting on the same table and was looking away and back at the two people next to him with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. Apparently, he also didn't expect Draco to do this, even if he was used to this type of Death Eater behavior after many years of service. Draco laughed along with the others, but specifically at the look on Snape's face. The girl kept kissing Nott passionately, running her hands though his hair, for a few more moments. When she stood up, he looked like he was going to grab her by the arm and refuse to let her go, but after one look at the Dark Lord, he didn't.
Now it's time to change the type of entertainment, Draco thought to himself. Then he gave her the next command.
The girl took Nott's empty wine glass and broke it with the table. She took a large piece of the broken glass and walked toward the middle of the room where she was before.
The Dark Lord smiled and Draco somehow heard his voice from inside his own head, which suddenly frightened him.
Bring on the pain, Draco.
The young wizard almost gasped as he looked up at the Dark Lord. He immediately felt pressure when he realized what had been the hidden message behind what he had been told; he had to be especially cruel in torturing and killing her. He had to impress the Dark Lord.
He suppressed all nervousness as best he could and commanded her next actions.
The girl lifted the sharpest edge of the glass and buried it in one of her eyes, and immediately she screamed. The Death Eaters cheered and laughed wickedly again, like they did during the rest of the spectacle. She took her eye out of the socket using the sharp glass, screaming in agony all the while, and did the same thing with the other eye. There was nothing she could do to prevent her self-mutilation. She placed both of her eyes on the floor beside her, one next to the other, and proceeded to run the sharp glass all over her face, leaving deep cuts with blood gushing out, then through her arms and legs; throughout her entire body. She stabbed her private parts and every other inch of her body.
At that moment, that place was hell. Voldemort was the devil, laughing along with all his demons around him. The poor girl's screams filled the room; music to their ears. At that moment, Draco really felt like he was one of those demons. He made her take out each nail out of each of her fingers using the glass. When he found nothing else she could possibly do without killing herself, he decided to proceed to the next Unforgivable.
"Crucio!"
Her screams were just as loud so they made no great effect anymore. They kept watching her like she was doing some very interesting magic trick, or was just something of great interest to them. The Dark Lord stood with his arms crossed, analyzing every moment. He kept the curse going until Voldemort gestured at him to stop and proceed to the next curse.
The moment had come. But he had already done such evil that he could no longer tell the difference. He didn't remember at that moment that he had never actually killed a human being before. It came naturally to him when he did it.
"Avada Kedavra!"
It was actually a merciful thing to do. She fell limp on the floor and her unbearable agony was finally put to an end. He stared at her fallen, destroyed body and the rush of Dark power was incredible. With only two words he had ended her forever. All over the room, people were smiling at him with pride.
The nearest Death Eater stood from his chair, approached the fallen girl and put his fingers on her neck.
"She's dead," he declared.
Immediately the room was filled with clapping and cheering and even more looks of pride. Draco was filled with great relief and joy as Lord Voldemort's blood red eyes observed him.
"Well done, child."
The next morning, Harry Potter held the glass with both of his hands and stared at the red liquid it contained. This could never compare to what he drank from Hermione. Not even close. It partially satisfied his thirst the moment he drank, but after a minute he went back to feeling the same. And the thirst was much, much worse now that he had tasted human blood and was aware of his nature.
"Drink up, Harry, yeh got ter feel better."
He looked up at Hagrid and smiled.
"Yes, thanks, Hagrid, for all your help," said Harry, and he raised the glass toward his lips and drank the blood, pretending to really like it. It wasn't very good because it had already gotten cold. But he honestly felt very grateful for the help Hagrid and Lupin gave him, even if he knew it was not much at all. He had to lie to them when they asked if he felt better. Although he did feel better emotionally after hearing Lupin's story about what he went thought during his similar transformation into a lycanthrope. With this he already felt a special bond with the man, who was now the closest thing he had, besides Hermione, to a relative. Harry listened as he slowly drank glass after glass of the animal blood Hagrid had given him.
The owner of the house was going to get more, even if Harry insisted that what he already had was fine.
"Nonsense," said Hagrid dismissively. "Yur a fledgling. You need much more o' this to feel even slightly bett'r." He had been gathering some hunting materials while Harry drank, and now he faced his guests and smiled at them. "Well, Dumbledore told me you two 'ave some business ter attend to, so I'll leave you two alone."
"Are you sure you don't mind if we have the lesson here, Hagrid?" asked Lupin politely.
"Of course not!" the half-giant replied emphatically. "Anything ter help Harry. I'll be outside. Come on, Fang." His huge dog gave one of his very loud barks and followed his master outside.
Lupin looked at Harry. "Are you done?"
The young wizard put down the empty glass. "Yes. We can begin now."
They were sitting in a corner of the house on two of Hagrid's very large chairs, facing each other. Lupin had his wand in his hand.
"Professor Snape never explained to you anything of what I just said?" asked Lupin with clear indignation.
"No. He didn't, not a thing," replied Harry, almost through clenched teeth. How he hated that bastard at that moment. No wonder he had failed so miserably in those lessons. And all this time he had thought he was a failure at Occlumency.
Lupin looked furious. "I can't believe that man," he said in a way that surprised Harry. Lupin always tried his best to conceal his strong dislike for Snape. "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore about this. It was probably his fault your mind got even more open to the Dark Lord!" He sighed angrily. "Alright, I'm sorry, we don't have a lot of time so let's start practicing."
"Okay."
"Now try to remember all I told you. You really need to visualize yourself between those four brick walls as if you were really there." He explained to Harry with a clear voice. "Concentrate on the texture and colors of the walls to make them as real as possible to you. Then you concentrate on the door that is right in front of you, and with all your mind power visualize the small open spaces around it being covered completely by the walls. The light coming from the other side is the invasion into your mind, and you must block it out. Concentrate."
Lupin gave Harry a few more moments to clear his mind and concentrate on the scenery he was supposed to be in. Harry clearly visualized the walls and the door. He stared fixedly at the spaces between the imaginary door.
"Are you ready for the first try?"
"Yes."
"Alright. One, two, three - Legilimens!"
Bright light everywhere!
Before he could even attempt to block out the invasion of blinding white light, it was already all around him in the "room". Lupin was able to enter his mind and see flashes of Harry's memories. There was Uncle Vernon pulling him by the hair and throwing him into the cupboard; there was him sitting in a dirty floor singing happy birthday to himself, with a birthday cake he had drawn on the dirt; there was him slaying a basilisk with Gryffindor's sword; him getting "I will not tell lies" cut into his wrist with Umbridge's deadly quill - but Harry was all along trying as hard as he could to fight the invasion. He visualized the light disappearing through the door with all the power he could summon. And in a few moments, the light was gone.
Harry collapsed against the back of the chair; he had been floating a few inches. He breathed as if getting out of a struggle.
"Very well, Harry!" exclaimed Lupin. "You were able to get me out on the first one! Excellent."
Harry smiled. This was so much better than having Snape yell at him.
"See? This is one of the first signs that your new nature might also benefit you, Harry. This just proved your mind power is very, very strong now." A moment later, Lupin's smile faded away and his tone became serious. "That was Dolores Umbridge in the memory, am I right?"
"Yes," replied Harry with a frown. He felt instant boiling anger at the thought of that nasty woman.
"Good Lord, that's terrible," said Lupin with indignation. Harry could only imagine the way Lupin must have felt after seeing such traumatizing and sometimes depressing memories. For a moment, Lupin's eyes reflected deep sympathy for him, but then he resumed his teacher attitude again.
It went on for another half hour. After four more attempts, Harry was able to force Lupin out of his mind a few seconds faster. One thing he discovered with amazement - and that he tried to keep secret from Lupin - was that he was able to somehow control the memories shown during the attack. He had prepared himself beforehand to try all he could to conceal, for example, what happened the previous night with Hermione and Ron. It must have been his new vampiric mind power, like Lupin said, that gave him the ability to do this with only his will power.
"Alright, now let's try one more time and that will be it for today," declared Lupin. "You look very tired."
"Alright," answered Harry. He was exhausted, magically speaking.
"Get ready. One, two, three - Legilimens!"
Again came the flash of memories and invasion of light. There was Harry pressing his hands against Quirell's face, making it burn into ashes; there was him driving away hundreds of dementors with a single patronus charm; there was him watching in horror as Sirius fall behind the veil, so gracefully and suddenly that it was as if he did not die, but merely fell away from sight...
And then, as vividly as if it were happening in that very room, the next memory came. It arrived out of nowhere, and this time Harry wasn't able to stop it from surfacing.
A woman with long black hair was dueling Harry in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, when suddenly the young wizard roared "Crucio!" looking absolutely alarming with hate. The woman fell on the floor and writhed and screamed in pain as the young wizard advanced with his wand raised, maintaining the spell.
"This is for Sirius!" he yelled fiercely. It was only after ten seconds or so that the witch finally managed to break off the curse with her wand, and continue dueling Harry despite the excruciating pain she obviously felt.
Before Lupin could see any more, Harry was finally able to throw him out of his mind. They rested on their chairs, breathing as if they had both run a mile. Lupin was looking at Harry with complete shock while the young wizard let his gaze drop to the ground. The older wizard understood exactly what he had just seen. Lupin had been there in the Ministry of Magic during the attack, moments before Harry had managed to disentangle himself from his grip in order to run after Bellatrix Lestrange.
For a moment there was silence except for the sound of the fire crackling. Harry slowly looked up at Lupin. The older man's face was a mask of sorrow, his eyes watery with sadness. His voice was a perfect reflection of his facial expression. "Harry...believe me," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I understand perfectly what you felt."
Harry looked down again. He couldn't stand the look on Lupin's face. He blinked as he felt his own eyes filling with blood tears.
"It was absolutely terrible, what happened. But that is not the way to solve it, Harry."
"I know," Harry whispered weakly.
"Remember that I am not only some Order member who tried to hold you back before you ran off. Remember that he had been my best friend, since we were young boys..." Lupin was choking with emotion, which Harry knew would happen to him as well if he spoke. "Even if I didn't show it, you know I was enraged as well. But Unforgivables...they are just that, they are inexcusable, unreasonable..."
"I was completely devoid of reason..." Harry whispered, forcing himself not to break down.
"I understand," said Lupin with a slow nod.
"So I just lost control. She simply ran away like a bloody coward. I had to go after her. It was an impulse."
"Please, Harry. I know you have heard it a million times but you must learn to control your impulses, especially now."
"I know, sir. But that was just too unbearable." Now Harry felt the blood tears fall down his cheeks. "To see the last person I had as a family member, murdered just like that right in front of me. And then the way that bitch taunted me about it as I chased her." Harry's face had become dark and ugly. "It made me feel the most loathsome hatred. It just triggered something..." he trailed off. He couldn't go on reliving that terrible experience. He wiped his tears and summoned all his strength to calm down, to stop the urge to succumb to weakness again.
Something deep inside his heart frightened him because he knew that it was true. And that was that he honestly never regretted what he had done. He really thought that the only thing Bellatrix Lestrange deserved was to be inflicted with a permanent Cruciatus Curse and die only after many days of unbearable agony. It was her favorite curse after all.
This cruel thought he had on the back of this mind was now present and he tried as much as he could to conceal it from Lupin.
The older wizard had been watching him all that time with the same heartbroken expression. Harry noticed that his eyes were filled with genuine love and concern the whole time. "Harry, you must understand that you are like a son to me. I must teach you that you are much better than that."
He then surprised Harry when he got out of his chair and approached Harry's, leaning closer to him and looking into his eyes. "Listen to me very closely, Harry. Revenge is not the answer."
Harry's eyes closed for a moment. He felt pain, not because of guilt, but because it hurt him to realize he did not agree with that statement. The only thing he had left was revenge…justice, actually.
"As a newly made vampire, it is absolutely critical that you don't let things like this happen. Harry, you must not let them happen, no matter what!" Lupin's tone was now filled with admonishment. He was backing away to sit back on his chair. "Please listen to our advice. If you don't, you might be lost forever in a way you cannot yet comprehend. And this could start easily with the use of any type of Dark Arts."
What followed was one long lecture about the Dark Arts, which Harry had indeed heard a million times before. But to be respectful, Harry kept looking at Lupin seriously and nodding his head in understanding. It was annoying, but deep down inside he did appreciate his concern.
"...just remember that much more experienced wizards have fallen under the influence of these curses."
"I understand."
"And now that you have this new nature, it's even worse. You'll be more easily influenced."
"Yes. But sir, will you tell others about what you saw?" asked Harry with a pleading expression. The thought had occurred to him during the little "speech" he had been given, and it scared him. The last thing he needed after so much mess was to be thrown in Azkaban for life.
Lupin slowly shook his head. "Of course not, Harry. How could I?"
Intense relief.
"Everything that happens during these lessons will remain between you and me," Lupin assured him. "But you must promise me that you will follow my advice."
"Yes, of course," replied Harry, trying as much as he could to seem honest.
"Promise me you'll be strong, Harry. Promise me you'll avoid any type of evil at all costs."
"I will," answered Harry and again, his gaze dropped to the floor.
"Okay. This time, you'll do it Draco. Go on."
Draco Malfoy looked at Henry Cunningham with surprise for a moment and then he grinned smugly. He pointed his wand at the fallen Goyle.
"No! Stop!" cried Goyle, crawling back on the floor. "Don't do it!"
"Obliviate!"
A beam of bright white light shot out of the tip of Malfoy's wand and landed on Goyle's face, knocking the large boy backwards toward the floor again. The blonde wizard stared for a few moments at his victim as he put his wand away. A bit of fear got to him. Goyle hadn't moved at all. He glanced apprehensively at Henry.
The other wizard smirked. "Don't worry. He's fine."
Draco felt instant relief when Goyle finally twitched. Thank Merlin I didn't get the fat boy killed.
Henry laughed. "Killed? Hilarious, Draco."
Goyle sat up abruptly and rubbed the back of his head. "Ow...that hurts!" He looked up at the boys in front of him, his unfocused gaze finally lingering on Draco. He stared at him like he hadn't seen a human being before. "Who are you? Where am I?"
Again Draco flashed another fearful look at Henry, but was calmed again when his mentor made a dismissive hand gesture.
"Ow! Why does it hurt? What is this place?" inquired Goyle with confusion. He looked again at Malfoy as if he just noticed the blonde was there. "Hey, Malfoy!"
"Good," whispered the blonde. He let out a sigh of relief.
"What happened?" asked Goyle, scratching his head.
"Get up," commanded Henry, and the boy immediately obeyed. "Leave." Henry's tone was so cold that Goyle quickly turned pale. He looked back at Draco, puzzled, but said nothing and quickly walked toward the door of the Room of Requirement.
"Wow, wait, where am I? Oh, right! Hogwarts!" they heard Goyle say loudly as he left.
Draco grimaced. "Is it permanent?"
Henry chuckled. "Concerned about your dear friend, are we? He'll be fine! Nothing too serious. After all, that was your first actual attempt." They were walking toward a part of the room that had a bunch of pillows on the floor and burning incense. "No one will expect Goyle to have a sharp mind. Now relax."
"Sure...relax," echoed Draco. He lay down on the cushions that were on the floor, and Henry sat nearby on another pile of cushions. "I know everything went well at the meeting but I still haven't done anything. I haven't brought him -"
"That's what we're working on," interrupted Henry impatiently. "You master this with humans and you're good. The same goes for the Memory Charm. Now shut up and try to clear you mind like I always tell you. Change your state of mind to Aura Traveling."
"Yes, sir," replied Draco and he closed his eyes.
Henry waved his hand and a cage from the other side of the room flew across it and landed beside him; a big, ugly rat was inside it. He placed it between him and Draco then leaned back leisurely. The blonde wizard lay there without any visible change for a few minutes.
Slowly, a reddish mist perfectly visible to Henry began to appear throughout Draco's body, slowly growing a few inches thick. The mist was like moving light, with strands of darker color swirling within.
"Move it to the target," Henry instructed, and the mist surrounding the other's body began to move away from where it came, like water running down a surface, and it floated toward the caged rat. Like a claw made of light, it covered the animal's body and surrounded it completely. Henry watched as a much more dim mist coming from within the animal started to leave its body, and began to mix with Draco's own. "Good. Now draw."
A few minutes later, the rat lay lifeless on the floor of the cage, and the reddish mist traveled back to its original source.
The two Slytherins stood facing each other. The mentor was looking at his pupil with satisfaction.
"You live up to your surname, Malfoy."
Draco smiled smugly. "Of course."
"But don't be overconfident. You need to practice every day from now on, without me."
"Understood."
"You're on your own now, boy. Now go ahead and be a prefect. It's late." He made a dismissive hand gesture.
"Alright," said Draco with a shrug. "Thank you for everything, sir."
"Of course," replied Henry as Draco walked away. They exchanged smug grins one last time.
Soon Henry was alone. He started to walk slowly around the room, pacing, looking like he was trying to make up his mind about something. A wardrobe materialized in a corner of the room and he changed his attire. Then he stopped what he was doing for a moment and thought to himself with conviction…
Yes. It is time.
Henry Cunningham stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed as he concentrated only on what he wanted that room to become. Then everything became a whirl of color and movement.
Harry Potter was sitting in the common room late that night, reading as usual in a dark corner near the window. His gaze lingered for a moment on the rest of the common room and he saw Ron heading toward the boys' staircase with Neville. Just before Ron got out of Harry's sight, he lookedover where Harry was and, spotting him, gave him an clearly hostile glare. Harry didn't return the look but merely looked back at his book with apparent indifference. He sighed. The truth was that he was depressed because of the entire situation, but he felt he could do nothing about it. Hermione arrived from the library but she went straight to bed after kissing him goodnight. Again, he was left alone.
He resumed his reading but was soon interrupted by the strangest sensation. It was like someone was calling his name, but silently. He just sensed someone's intention of getting his full attention. And then a voice resounded inside his head as if it came from everywhere at the same time but also from inside his own mind.
Meet me now in the Room of Requirement.
Harry jumped up. He was unable to process the message for a while due to his amazement at what he just experienced. It was like a god had just communicated with him. Feeling numb and hesitant, he closed his book.
A part of him told him to ignore this, because either he was crazy or because whatever had made that voice was probably too much to handle. What if it wanted to harm him? But right when his true Gryffindor self broke in, like a slap in the face to remind himself who he was, the voice came again.
You will not be harmed.
Again, he froze. But then he thought to himself - What is wrong with me? I'm the wizard who's faced Voldemort like five times and survived!
Harry went quickly to his dormitory and got his usual "sneak out" tools - the Invisibility Cloak and the Maraunder's Map. Of course, he also took his wand just in case. Whatever it was that was calling him, and for what reason, he just couldn't ignore it. He left through the portrait hole wearing his cloak and easily made his way toward the "secret" Room he knew so well.
When he paced anxiously back and forth before the wall to get to the Room of Requirement, he really had no clue what to expect waiting for him behind the door that was going to appear soon. But he definitely didn't expect it to be the person he saw when he entered the room, which had been transformed into some small but luxurious common room.
The new Slytherin, Henry Cunningham, was sitting on an armchair by a fireplace reading a book, dressed so well that for a moment Harry thought it couldn't be the same bloke in Slytherin Hogwarts robes he had seen the past few weeks. Henry was wearing some handsome black garments and long black coat, with a dark red buttoned shirt underneath that was slightly open on his chest, where there hung silver pendant necklaces with complex symbols or seals and a great deal of expensive looking silver rings on his fingers. His stylish appearance was shocking, and more so when the guy looked straight at Harry, gave him a welcoming smile and said politely, "Good evening, Potter," as if everything was perfectly normal.
Harry knew his mouth was hanging open; because of who he saw, and because he had clearly seen him while he was still behind the Invisibility Cloak. The young wizard took it off and blurted out, "How'd you know it was me?"
Henry laughed, looking like a charming gentleman. "Because I sensed it," he answered with a shrug. "And because I wasn't expecting anyone else. That's a really nice Invisibility cloak by the way. Where'd you get it?"
Harry was walking across the room toward Henry but he still felt numb. He looked at the cloak that he held with the tips of his fingers and then back at the slytherin, feeling lost all of the sudden by the simple compliment. "Er...Thanks. It was my father's."
Henry Cunningham was the source of that strange, god like voice he had heard?
How on earth could he do that? No normal wizard...no human...
As Harry silently approached the two armchairs by the fire, staring at the creature in front of him, all he could think of was one rude but obvious question.
What are you?
Henry chuckled again. "I am what you are," he said, clearly having read Harry's mind without difficulty. "Now sit."
Harry complied, still staring with amazement. "Who exactly are you, then?"
A sinister smile appeared on Henry Cunningham's handsome face. Harry could see a glimpse of his small but sharp fangs, similar to his own, which he hadn't noticed at all before.
"I have had many names over the generations, as I've lived many lifetimes," he said. "But you may call me Henry. After ten centuries, I don't really care what people call me these days."
"Ten centuries?"
"Yes. I do not look it, do I?" asked Henry with a smug smile. "A soul that's lived a thousand years in the body of a young man. Delightful, isn't it?"
A thousand years. The first thing that came to Harry's mine was that this being lived at the time of the founding of Hogwarts.
"I was one of Slytherin's first and preferred students, as a matter of fact," said Henry with obvious pride, but then his tone changed completely and his face darkened. "However, I've had the misfortune of watching throughout the centuries how wizards have progressively disgraced themselves and destroyed one another, especially the ones with the purest blood. An utter disappointment…"
Harry frowned at the tone he was using. "You sound like Voldemort."
He was surprised when Henry hissed at this and threw him a disgusted look in response. "That lying half-blood," growled Henry. "Don't ever compare me to that disgusting thing."
"You're against Voldemort?" asked Harry with surprise.
"I loathe him," answered Henry, his glare fierce, and as he looked at the fire his eyes reflected the flames like they were coming from the eyes themselves. "It is an unbearable disgrace for him to call himself Slytherin's heir," he spat. "Above all him, the worst of half-bloods, born from a filthy Muggle father and a squib mother. How on earth did he end up a Dark Lord? His followers are all bloody fools."
Harry tried to sympathize with Henry's little angry rant, but his language disturbed him too much. Filthy Muggle?
"Oh, you'll understand someday," said Henry with a dismissive hand gesture. "There is a lot I'd like to show you. But right now we must get to what's important."
"And what is that?"
"Obviously, I know that the old man already spoke to you about what you are. But you should also know that I am your Maker. I am here to be your guide, and thought that now was the best moment to reveal myself to you."
Harry stared into the other's eyes in silence. He couldn't believe it. How could he be that "angel" that saved his life, this Slytherin in front of him?
"Oh, but I am, Harry. I saved you from death like you asked. I gave you life."
"Life?" snapped Harry with sudden anger. "You call this life?" But before he could complain any further, a flash of red in Henry's eyes shut him up immediately.
"Do not be ungrateful. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead." Henry's tone was calm but alarming, and very intimidating. "And you wouldn't want that, would you? You begged me, remember? You begged me to turn you as you died, as you suffered. You wanted to live, so you'd be here to save your precious friends."
"Yes, yes, I know...sorry."
"Tell me. Would you have wanted me to let you die, so there would be no one to vanquish that poser called Voldemort?"
"No, no, I thank you," replied Harry with humility, surprised at his own tone. Something about this being made him feel inexplicably submissive. "Forgive me. It's just that...I do not understand what I am. I don't want to be this."
"You have no choice now. That's why I'm here," Henry's tone changed back to the pleasant one from the beginning. "You see, I granted you the favor of letting you live because I want you to fulfill your destiny. I'm here to help you."
Harry had a hard time believing that. Henry sighed. "What could I do to make you trust me?"
I don't trust Slytherins, especially those who are friends with Draco Malfoy...
Henry laughed as if Harry had said that out loud.
And instinct tells me I shouldn't trust vampires either. You're all of that combined.
"You'll be miserable if you don't learn to trust your own kind."
Your own kind. It was too unbearable.
"Yes, your kind," insisted Henry. "And the only reason you suffer is because you do not accept your nature. You're sick and weak because you refuse to feed like you're supposed to. You're being an idiot."
"I will not drink blood. I will not harm anyone."
"You stubborn fool. If you keep ignoring your thirst, it will only get worse. And then one day you will snap and you will kill the first person you see, I guarantee it."
Harry shook his head. He knew he was in denial. All he could think of was blood and the thirst was unbearable. The small taste from Hermione was nothing. He had indeed felt that crazy instinct taking over sometimes, sudden urges to reach out and grab people out of desperation and hunger.
"I have been a vampire for a thousand years, I know. Now listen to me," Henry commanded. "I have given you powers that most would kill for, understand? But they're only obstacles if you don't learn to use them by building your strength, which can only be done the way I'm about to show you."
"You gave me powers?"
"Yes, I gave you my ancient and powerful blood, so you might have gained numerous abilities. But you'll merely go insane if you don't learn to use them. Don't you want to vanquish that half-blood that killed your parents?"
How heartless it was to say it with the tone he did. But Harry was too intimidated to complain. "Yes, I do," he answered angrily. He also knew Henry was completely right. He was already losing his sanity from hearing people's thoughts and conversations inside his head all the time, to the point he had to consciously stop himself from screaming.
Also, something wasn't adding up. "If you're so powerful and hate Voldemort so much, why don't you kill him?" asked Harry boldly. He was surprised when Henry merely smiled.
"It would be my pleasure, actually. But I want you to do it. It's not my destiny after all - it is yours, 'Chosen One'. And you would never be happy unless you kill him yourself, you know that," he answered simply, and then paused for a moment. Harry knew he was right yet again. He knew he would never feel at peace unless he personally destroyed Voldemort. The thought scared him a little.
"Enough talk. Now you must come," Henry declared imperiously and he stood from his armchair.
"Come? Where?"
"Just come with me," answered Henry. He walked toward a wardrobe that apparently just materialized in the room, and took out two dark traveling cloaks. He threw one at Harry. "Put this on. It's a cold, rainy night and we're going on a little field trip right now."
"We can't go anywhere from in here," said Harry while he put on the cloak alongside Henry. "And also, they'll notice we - "
"Nonsense."
A large window appeared in the wall and opened up. Harry looked with wonder at the tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest.
"I'm going to teach you the most important lesson," stated Henry with his hand outstretched toward Harry, who suddenly felt uncomfortable at the thought of holding this mysterious creature's hand. But he found himself walking closer. Soon he held the cold, strong hand and was further surprised when his maker held him close by the waist. Before he could protest, however, they were already flying rapidly through the cold night air in a whirl of dark colors.
The night was dark and cloudy. Two figures walked across the empty streets together; they were two lone creatures of the night in an area that most muggles prefer to avoid. Their long, dark cloaks billowed in the cold night wind as they paced, almost glided, across the dark.
"Where exactly are we, Henry?"
"Somewhere in downtown London. But that's not important. Just follow me."
They approached some abandoned buildings on the corner of the street. They were now entering a dark, narrow space between two of the buildings that reminded Harry of the ones in Knockturn Alley. He continued to follow Henry despite what his mind told him. This was definitely a place teenagers - everyone, as a matter of fact - should stay away from.
"Ah, but we are not mere teenagers, are we?" said Henry with amusement, his mesmerizing voice echoing strangely against the walls. "You know nothing of our powers yet, my fledgling."
"What are we doing here?"
"You'll see. Now be quiet and listen."
Immediately Harry heard the whispers coming from the back of the building. A gathering of men - thieves, to be precise - was happening at that moment. Henry was heading toward that meeting. Soon Harry realized what they were there for.
"Precisely..." whispered Henry, this time in a voice no human could have heard.
Evildoers. You know how hungry you are. Simply search their minds and you will see their ruthless crimes. This will take away any pointless guilt you might feel.
Search their minds. Harry was surprised by how naturally and easy this came to him. He merely thought about it and he was already seeing images from the men's minds, who weren't in sight yet. He saw terrible crimes; murders, rapes, violence of all kind. These men had done these things. All of them had.
Yes, and now you shall stop them and your own suffering as well.
But Harry felt a sharp pain on his chest, even with the strong pull of his unbearable thirst moving his body. His noble quality was still there, telling him not to do it, to back away. Killing can never be justified, or can it?
Think about all the innocent lives you'll save if you end theirs.
Henry knew just what to say and when because Harry was almost immediately convinced. Then again he was too hungry, unbearably hungry, and his mind was a fog that worsened with every step he took toward the humans. A few seconds later, both of them finally stood within the shadows watching the men. Harry could sense - almost see - the warm, delicious blood flowing though their veins.
With a roguish smile, Henry said to his companion, "This is what you do. It'll come naturally, just follow me."
Before Harry could reply, Henry was already walking, with incredible confidence, toward the group of thieves. There were four of them. Foolishly, Harry worried for Henry for a moment. He couldn't believe that the young looking teenager was the predator among such monstrous men.
"Good evening, gentlemen!" greeted Henry loudly, with a tone of exaggerated kindness. Harry gasped. The thieves all looked at the intruder and twisted, evil smiles appeared on their faces. Henry's voice was inside Harry's mind again.
Come, Harry. Trust your power.
As if in a trance, Harry slowly walked out of the shadows and followed his maker.
"Well, what do we have here? Two pretty boys!" sneered one of the thieves - a man with long, dirty black hair and a leather jacket. All of them looked like drunken bikers, probably in their late thirties or forties, and their large, muscular bodies were filled with tattoos. Harry thought they looked like human waste, these thieves. They all laughed with delight and slowly stood up, crossing their arms or taking out a knife, or a gun - like the one who spoke and was now approaching Henry.
The vampire laughed at the thief in his face and sneered, "Let's see what you got, scumbag."
The thief laughed and pointed the gun at Henry's face. Before he pulled the trigger, however, he was flying through the air.
It happened too fast for any of the humans to see, but Harry saw it. Henry simply moved to the thief's side in the blink of an eye and shoved him with only one arm - but the guy flew up about five feet in the air and crashed against a pile of trash at the other side of the place, before anyone could detect any movement whatsoever.
The others were obviously shocked at this, but they reacted quickly. The other one with a gun tried to shoot Henry as well, but before he knew it the vampire was right beside him and had twisted his arm painfully, breaking his elbow. The guy yelled out in pain and the gun fell on the floor. At the same time, another had launched himself toward Harry, who reacted with pure instinct and, with his recently discovered speed, easily dodged and caught the guy by the neck, forcing him on his knees. He then took the knife out of the thief's hand, threw it far away, and did something else purely out of instinct, the urge he had been suppressing for so long finally taking over.
Harry bent down and bit into the guy's neck forcefully, breaking it. A gush of warm, delicious blood flowed into his mouth and he drew it out gulp after gulp, much more powerfully than when he fed on Hermione. He was unable to think for a moment of anything else but how great it felt. The beating of the guy's heart was combining with the beating of his own, making a weird rhythmic music inside his head. The same rush of images being shoved into his mind came along with each gulp of blood, like he was sucking out the man's life itself.
He heard screams of pain and more bodies crashing against things all around him, but nothing could stop him from drinking. It was pure ecstasy, better than any other pleasurable thing he had experienced in his entire life, and he never wanted it to end. The beat of the heart was fading more and more. Way too soon, he felt a powerful hand separate him from the bloody neck of his victim.
"No!" Harry growled, surprised at how beastly he sounded. Henry was easily holding him with one hand and the victim, now dead, with the other, smiling down at Harry condescendingly.
"Calm down," commanded Henry. "Remember this, it's very important: you must stop feeding before the heart stops completely. Never drink the blood of the dead, understand?"
Harry nodded, but his monstrous side was still taking over him. This had only made him even thirstier than before! He wanted more!
"Ah, then have more," insisted Henry with a deceivingly innocent smile, and he gestured toward the other men that were now on the floor, moaning in pain. There was another one lying close by whose skin was white - drained completely - like the one Harry just fed on. "Look, you can take any of the other two. I'll let you choose first," added Henry with feigned kindness.
Within a second Harry had somehow moved on top of the nearest living one. He held him up, bit hard into his neck, and drank. The same extraordinary sensation came. At that point, there was no space inside his mind for guilt. He just drank.
Henry watched his fledgling with a smug expression. "You're doing perfect. Just as I expected."
Seconds later, a groan from the other side of the room indicated that the last thief had met his fate as well. Both creatures drank with pleasure on that dark and eerie place, under the bright and indifferent stars.
"Of course, when you do it on a normal basis you don't have to make such a spectacle. This time I did it just to make it fun."
Henry was taking off his coat and putting it back on the wardrobe he created with his thoughts on the room of requirement. Harry was doing the same, but he couldn't help but feel how the euphoria of moments ago was finally wearing down, that intense pleasure trip he was on when they feasted on those thieves. The rational side of his mind was starting to work again.
I killed two men. I'm a murderer.
Hot, burning guilt kept accumulating with each passing moment. As the blood that was clouding his brain started to move throughout his body and fill him all over, he could feel the strength accumulating within him. But he couldn't care less about power and strength at that moment. He was gone mentally from the world, falling down a dark abyss, until he felt someone gently pull up his chin.
Henry was standing right in front of him, his piecing brown eyes, full of understanding, were looking into his. Light seemed to fill the abyss inside.
"What you feel, Harry, is only temporary," said Henry with the same angelic tone Harry vaguely remembered him using that day in Diagon Alley. "It is only a phase you must overcome as you become stronger."
"How do I overcome it?"
"By remembering always that you are justice. Know that you are good by slaying the evildoer. Know that you are serving the world doing so."
How smooth his words were, his tone...
"After all, that is what you're supposed to do, am I right?" stated Henry with raised eyebrows. "Be the savior of the world?"
"Yeah," replied Harry, although he frowned at Henry's sarcasm.
"No, not sarcasm. Harry, I take you very seriously. The reason to feed is not only for your survival," explained Henry with a more serious tone. "With each evil scum you feed on, you increase your own powers and strength; both magical and vampiric. Understand? Only blood and experience can give you the strength you need to succeed."
"But I don't need to kill to drink blood..." Harry pondered, but the trailed off. He knew that would be extremely hard to do. When he fed, he felt possessed by some savage instinct that prevented him from thinking at all. The victim becomes merely food.
"You could try," suggested Henry with skepticism. "I mean, you can go by only drinking that animal blood they're giving you. But it won't satisfy you at all. And of course, it will do nothing to increase your power."
Harry knew Henry was right. He paused to think it over.
"So...I have no choice. I have to kill forever now," said Harry, more to reassure himself. "I have to live as a fiend for the rest of time."
Henry had the most compassionate expression on his face as he replied. "Yes. That is our sacrifice."
How innocent he made it sound.
"Listen. You will get over the self loathing with time," said Henry irritably. "I'm telling you, it's a phase we all go through, unfortunately. You'll get used to killing. For now you must remember some things before we leave."
Harry nodded. Henry looked into his eyes as he spoke, his expression serious.
"First, the most obvious. What we are and what we do - it's secret. The people who know our nature already are more than enough. No one must know of our little hunting trips."
"Alright."
"Also, you must feed, especially now that you're only a fledgling. If you don't, your progress will regress. And we don't want that, do we?"
Harry shook his head and said, "Nope, don't want that", even if he knew he wouldn't get used to killing any time soon.
"Good. I will instruct you on our ways until you are ready to act on your own. Then I'll teach you how to use your powers once you're strong enough to wield them. Soon you will build up the strength to bring down the snake Lord and his Death Eaters - which you desire, don't you?"
"Of course," answered Harry truthfully. He was shocked when he realized he would feel no guilt after killing one of those people.
"You definitely need to block your mind from others, so they wouldn't know about this. This is really important. So keep practicing that Occlumency."
"Yes. I understand."
"We are done for today, Potter. I have some business to attend to. You didn't think I dressed so fancy just for you now did you?" he teased, picking up his books from the summoned table and heading for the door as he spoke. "Next time we meet, I want you stronger. I don't want to see any brooding, understood? I'll see you around."
"Right," answered Harry stiffly as he watched the one who made him what he was leave the room.