Setting Up

Harry was bored. It had been two days since his party, and he had done nothing but stay in his house, trying to push down the excitement he felt every time he thought about having his own apprentice.

The man was crude and unrefined, having no clear moral compass when searching for vampires, but Harry was sure he could change that; it would take some doing thought, not that Harry minded. Any project to occupy his time was a Godsend..

But now all that excitement had somewhat evaporated. The hunter, Connor if Harry remembered correctly—and seeing as Harry had spent an hour searching his memory for the memory of the man, he was sure he was—had yet to contact Harry. The wizard admitted to himself he was starting to get bored.

Bored enough to actually go and check if the man was still alive.

What the heck, Harry thought before turning on the spot.

He appeared in front of the trailer, it was just as it had been two days ago, and the van was still in its place, not showing any signs of movement. But it wasn't like Connor had all that motion to him, Harry had still broken his arm, and the wizard didn't even think about healing him. The hunter's injuries were deserved, if the man was going to go around stabbing people, then Harry wouldn't show any remorse in hurting him.

Harry walked up to the door and, resisting the urge to just enter, he knocked.

There was motion on the other side, rushed motion that Harry guessed the man was equipping himself with a weapon; the door finally opened, slowly, revealing the man who was carrying a stake-armoured crossbow.

Harry smiled. "Good , day to you, my good man."

"What do you want?" the hunter asked. He didn't shoot this time, Harry guessed the man had learned from past experiences.

"Checking if you're alive," Harry said. "With the vampires in this town and you being a hunter, I thought they might have tracked you down and killed you."

Connor snorted. "They haven't," he said. "Now leave, before I decide to put a stake through your skull."

"We both know that won't work, now, don't we?" Harry said. "Are you going to invite me in?" Harry asked, trying to look past the man and into the trailer; from what he could make out, it too was still the same, organised in an unorganised fashion. "Maybe you could make me a cup of tea—cliché, I know, but," Harry shrugged.

The hunter stood, thinking, then he shifted back, allowing Harry entry. Harry noticed he wasn't invited in, which he thought was strange considering he had waltzed in just a few days ago. He chose not to comment though, and instead walked in, making sure not to have the hunter truly out of sight. The man was still dangerous, and strangest off all, was immune to the Stunning Jinx—this somewhat contributed to why Harry wanted the man as an apprentice, the possibility that he may be immune to some magic.

He took a seat near what looked to be a desk, Connor had walked further in and had put down his crossbow.

The man sat on his bed, wincing a little as his arm moved. Harry couldn't help smirking at that, Connor noticed and glared. "Who are you?" the man asked.

"My name is Harry Potter," Harry answered. "Though my name is not who I am. The question of who a person really is, is hard to answer, and I admit, I have yet to come across an answer that truly answered the question of who I am."

The hunter didn't look phased by the answer, he just stared at Harry with eyes that might have been intimidating to anyone else. Harry just grinned, he had nothing better to do today, and getting this hunter on his side was something he would surely succeed at.

"What are you?"

"Human, a man, a wizard, and once-upon-a-time a hunter," he answered.

"You were a hunter?" asked Connor, the man not even trying to hide his disbelief. The truth of it was, Harry looked young, and it had nothing to do with having good genes, it was an obscure piece of magic which he had yet to figure out. He was still trying to, but he thought the answers to that might be in his original world and was putting it off until chance had him land there, and he was starting to get used to his quasi-immortality.

The trouble with looking as young as Harry did, was that people didn't believe it when they when you implied that you were older than you looked. It was something Harry had found amusing, and over most time annoying, especially when he wanted to get a stiff one, but he was something he too was trying to get used to it; it often meant people were going to underestimate him, and in a world of superspeed and strength, being underestimated made things a little easier.

So Harry was not surprised at the man's disbelief, completely annoyed at the man's disbelief, emphasise on not completely. though he He was still annoyed, but with the poker-face as good as a crazy lady, it would have been hard to tell.

"Yes. Yes, I was," Harry said. "I took a vacation when my mentor disappeared, but I had to put the vacation on hiatus when I heard some disturbing news. Which is why I came here. Mystic Falls seems to be wrapped up in it all."

"Wrapped up in what?" asked the hunter, and Harry thought he might be wrong, but he was starting to detect interest in the man's tone.

Harry grinned. "Become my apprentice, and I tell you everything."

The man shook his head. "I don't need training, especially not from some kid," the last was muttered.

Harry lost his grin. "I'm not a kid, Mr Jordan, far from it. I look young, yes, but don't make the mistake of thinking of me as a child." He took a breath, there was just something about being thought a child that pissed him off. "But, I think you're a slight confused at the 'training' I will afford you as my apprentice; I will not be training you as a fighter," Harry said, "from our little scuffle at the church I can tell you can fight, you can shoot, and you're a good strategist. What I will be teaching you is, first and foremost, a little humanity; not all vampires are evil."

Connor's face scrunched, the man leaped to his feet, and scowled at Harry. "How can you say that?" he asked, his voice with heat. "Vampires are unnatural, abominations, killers."

Harry chuckled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Jordan, but weren't you prepared to kill an innocent girl just a few days ago?" The man sobered, then shifted. "And," Harry continued, "if you were prepared to do that here—only foiled by me. I wonder how many other times you've succeeded."

"Necessary evils," said the hunter.

"Then one can argue that, to vampires, killing humans are necessary evils as well. I mean, they either feed off blood, or they starve. I think most people in that situation would opt for the former." The hunter paused, looking as though he was of two minds, both these minds at equal odds with each other.

Finally he shook his head. "They're killers."

"You're a killer, I'm a killer, most people who drive under the influence are killers, but we don't kill them now do we? We sometimes don't even think them evil, we just think they are reckless jerks that should have died in the accidents of their own making, but we still don't think them evil."

"Is this your philosophy then? Let these scum continue to feed off people?"

"Well as long as they don't kill Muggles, then I say let them be. Step off line though, or become a Ripper, then all bets are off, as the saying goes.. But that was the first point, the second; I would offer you magical protection. The shields which have stopped you on your tries to kill me are what have become basic enchantments, I have a range of weapons that will make your vampire killing ways easier and less life-threatening, and I could afford you fail-safes, such as the ring, which could save your life in a pinch. I could also teach you a technique to push off Compulsion, that's the sort of training I'm offering."

Connor looked interested, and Harry knew he had him, but there was still reluctance. "Show me what you can do," the hunter said. "Show me what these weapons of yours can do, and maybe I might be willing to work under your wing."

"What do you have in mind?" Harry asked.

"Since you got my arm," the hunter started ruefully, Harry didn't even react to that, "I've been forced to only do reconnaissance; from my count there are two vampires, the mayor's son, Tyler Lockwood, and a blonde, Rebecca Mikaelson. I've already tried to kill the mayor's son, but that didn't work out too well, I think he may be a new strain—"

"Hybrids," Harry said. "Between wolf and vampire, they ought to be hard to kill." Connor was watching him with a queer expression Harry noticed. "You were saying…"

"Right. I want you to kill them, I let you pick which one."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think you're thinking," he said. "Didn't we just have a conversation about not just killing vampires? I haven't yet seen a sign that would say these two, have—"

"What about the council?" Connor asked. "Don't you find it odd how they died?"

Harry gave it a moment's thought, to those out of the loop it would look like vampires were the cause of the council's death, because every hunter knew that more often than not a town's council was more than just figure heads; they dealt with things the ordinary townsfolk did not know about. But in this case Connor's theory wasn't true was it? The council's death, the first deaths of twelve, was a key towards a ritual, and rituals were the works of witches.

How to stop this then? If he didn't agree to kill either Tyler or Rebecca, then Connor would find that Harry was too soft for his liking, which was often the case with hunters; Harry didn't know why, but when you became a hunter, several of your intelligence points decreased and you found yourself succumbing to stupid blunders and lack of impulse control.
You just had to kill everything and anything that wasn't human, which made you predictable, and that was bad in the hunting game.

He couldn't go after the mayor's son, he was a hybrid, and killing hybrids would just be asking for Niklaus Mikaelson on his doorstep; and though Harry wasn't scared off the man, he was scared of what he was. Niklaus, and every other Original Vampire, were the works of witches, they were the products of extremely powerful spells that Harry's original world hadn't had; they were, Magical Creatures. The problem with magical creatures was the fact they were resistant to magic, and vampires—who already had and above average skill-sets when it came to resilience—which were resistant to magic, were a no-no. This made Originals about the most magical resistant creatures in this world, on par with dragons in Harry's world, and Niklaus especially because he was also the Original Hybrid.

But there was also Rebecca, she was both an Original and the daughter of a friend; he couldn't kill her either.

So what to do?

"I can't," he finally said.

"Expected it," the man muttered. "You know, you talk a big game, but I've met your type before, all bark and no bite."

Harry outright laughed at that, laughed enough that he had to wipe off a few tears. "No bite? How about you ask your shoulder about my bite, I'm sure it will disagree with you."

Connor scowled, but didn't comment.

"Don't expect to manipulate me in such simple methods, Mr Jordan," Harry said. "Try a little harder though, get to know me a little, and you'll easily figure out I don't care if people think me a coward, because more times than not, my actions speak differently."

Connor just snorted. "All I've seen from you is talk," the man said.

"You've heard talk, Mr Jordan, you haven't seen it; you've seen me speak, but not seen talk." Harry grinned at the slight sign of annoyance as the man's brow creased, and teeth grit together. "Anyway, things don't usually work out the way you have them in your hand; you're the one that's supposed to prove yourself to me, but I'm not asking you to, instead I'm asking you to still think about it. But I should warm you, if I don't get your answer within three days, I'll assume that a no and take the memories of today's conversations. I wouldn't want you to use it against me."

Harry smiled and stood. "Well, this has been fun," he said. "I was really hoping for that tea, but since you didn't make me some, I'm a bit put out. Hoping to receive an answer, I'll be seeing you around town."

He walked out of the door and walked into the woods, turning on the spot when he was hidden by the trees.

Secrecy still stayed well in his blood.

He appeared in front of his house, and was almost in when he stopped; looked around, and noticed for the first time that it was day, and it was a Tuesday; two of the three vampires he still had to curse were in school, which meant Damon Salvatore was all on his lonesome.

Easy pickings Harry thought.

He turned again, appearing in front of Mystic Grills. He walked in, and though the place was a little empty, it was a lot more upbeat than Harry remembered it. It was still low lit, colours changing between golden wood and deep reds; it reminded Harry a little of the Gryffindor Common Room, except there weren't as many drinks at Hogwarts.

He walked to the bar, Damon was sitting as he had when Harry had come before, hunched and staring at his drink, there sat a brown-haired man beside him who looked at Damon with some concern.

"Hello, Mr Salvatore," Harry said, the man turned, scowled then returned to his drink; the man besides Damon looked at Harry with an amount of confusion. "Hello to you too…" the man didn't answer, he instead looked around, his confusion increasing. Damon had also turned again. "This usually the part where you introduce yourself," Harry said to the man who still stared at him, though now it had turned to shock.

"You can see me?" Harry nodded. "How?"

"Ah, you're a ghost," said Harry. "Welcome to Purgatory, I hear it's very boring."

The man just nodded, there was a sense of relief about him at that he was actually being spoken to.

"You should follow me after I'm done with Mr Salvatore, I offer company to those who find themselves on the other side of that blasted veil. Back to you, Mr Salvatore, I wonder if I might have a moment."

"Sure," the man said with clear sarcasm, Harry ignored that, he took a seat beside the ghost.

"You don't mind if I have that do you?" he asked the ghost, the man shook his head.

"Not like I can drink it," the man muttered. Harry took that as a yes, he was half way to taking it, when a colder hand grasped his, tightening it with such force that Harry heard his bones start to crack.

"Let go of me, Mr Salvatore," said Harry, his tone threatening, "or you'll find yourself much like your brother."

"That's not yours."

"I know, I think you heard me when I asked its owner for it," Harry said. "It's his right? A friend who you just lost? It makes sense, saving a seat for him, that's what you were doing the first day I was here."

The vampire let go of Harry's hand, then looked forlornly at the seat between them. "You can see him?" Harry nodded. "Is he okay?" Both Damon and the man snorted at that. "Stupid question," they both said.

Strange, Harry thought.

"This is unhealthy, Mr Salvatore, what I'm about to do, but I can see you need it." Harry took off a silver ring with a large obsidian stone on it. Harry looked it over, then extended it towards Damon.

"What's this?"

"A powerful ring," Harry said. "Far more powerful than your daylight ring; it will grant its wearer the sight of spirits."

"What's the catch?" Damon asked, though he had made a minute movement towards the ring.

"I'll cast two spells on you; the first will bar your tongue, you won't able to speak of me or my powers; the second will cripple you fingers if you ever attempt to write about me."

There was a moment's thought, then, "Do it," said Damon Salvatore.

Harry nodded, took out his wand, made small gestures, and was done; then he handed the ring to Damon. "This is a loan, I will take it when I need it, or I find you abusing its power; and if you lose it, I will make searching for it greater even than the need of blood."

He grabbed the glass of whiskey and gulped it down, then took his leave, astonished at how easy that all had been. The man had tried to kill him only a few nights before, and here he was giving him his ring; he was indeed turning soft, he thought to himself. Harry shook his head, walking down the street without any direction. It was time he got a lay of the land anyway, what use was coming here if he was going to be a hermit? Spending all his time in his house?

He passed a few building, greeted a few people, but overall found nothing interesting. The scenery was a pleasure to look at though, which made his little walk not all that bad.

"Harry Potter," said a voice, and Harry came into his mind. He found that he was in front of a schoolhouse, which was really strange on his part, that usually never happened…well, not that Harry had noticed; they guy who had spoken was none other than the bartender who had almost denied him a drink. "Right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, he remembered the blonde in front of him, though not his name.

"Matt."

"Right, Mr Donovan, the first person to officially welcome me to Mystic Falls; that was greatly appreciated."

"Sure, what are you doing here? I didn't think you'd be attending school."

"I'm not," Harry said, "and I'm quite as surprised as you are about me being here, lost."

"You trying to get to your house?"

Harry shook his head. "No, just walking around trying to get acquainted to the town—I didn't see you at the party, I think I sent an invitation to your family."

"You did," said Matt. "I was just busy, work."

Harry nodded. "It does tend to get in the way," he said. "Which is why it works to get rich quick."

Matt chuckled. "If only it were that easy."

Harry hummed. "No truer words. But hard work often gets you far, or so I've heard; me, I prefer to find the short-cuts."

"I'll remember that," said Matt, then he looked around; the schoolyard was emptying. "I should get to class."

"See you around, Mr Donovan."

"Matt," the man corrected.

"Matt it is," said Harry and watched as the teenager walked back into school. Harry wondered if he should walk in himself, two vampires lay within, and he was sure he would catch them totally off guard. But school was school, it was a sort of sanctuary for Harry, and he couldn't desecrate that with a clear mind.

He continued walking, walking until an idea hit; it was time to change this town for the better. He walked, asked for directions, and then finally found himself in front of the Sheriff's office, staring at a wiry man who wore a police uniform.

"How can I help you day, sir?" the man asked with too much enthusiasm for a police officer.

"I wonder if the Sheriff might be in," Harry said. "I have something of import to discuss with her."

"She's in," said the man, "but you usually have to make an appointment to speak with her. The sheriff is a woman."

"I know," Harry started. "Which is why I chose this moment to come see her, I knew should would most likely not have any appointments scheduled, and therefore would free to see me; and considering the importance of what I have to tell her, she would be more grateful than not if, in the case she does have an appointment scheduled, you postponed that and instead let me see her. Now, doesn't that make sense?"

The man, looking befuddled, stayed silent in thought, frowning this way and that, then finally said, "I'll get the Sheriff."

Harry grinned. "I'll be waiting here."

"Right this way," said the man as he soon appeared. Harry followed him to the cosy room the Sheriff called her office.

"Mr Potter," the woman said with a smile as her Deputy left, on scrutiny Harry noticed the smile looked tired.

"A good day to you, Lady Sheriff," Harry returned and took for the gestured seat.

"How can I help you today?"

"It's about our local vampire," said Harry choosing not to talk around the subject, drawing it out needlessly; he knew, she knew, and he knew she knew. She turned shock and Harry stopped her as she was about to speak. "It wouldn't to feign ignorance, I heard you speak to Damon Salvatore, and I know your daughter is also a vampire."

"I wasn't," the sheriff said. "Going to lie, that is, I don't need to. Caroline already told me about you."

"She did?" The Sheriff nodded. "Wow, I'm surprised. Did she tell you about my threat?" Again the sheriff nodded. "Wow, you have a very good relationship with your daughter," Harry said. "Which I am somewhat concerned about, don't you think that, if your daughter went blood-lusty, you would be unable to do what is needed?"

"Caroline wouldn't," said the Sheriff. "She may be young, but she's got good control."

Harry hummed. "I want to believe you, but you might be speaking as a mother."

"I take my job very seriously, Mr Potter," said the Sheriff, a bit put out about her integrity being question.

"You'll have to excuse me, Lady Sheriff," said Harry, "but I find myself worried, between you and the Lady Mayor, you have supernatural children. I think that might make the both of you more likely to be lenient when they kill, if they already haven't."

"They haven't," said the woman. "But they have saved many lives with the rogue vampires they have killed."

"Oh? So it's a protection type deal? They keep other vampires out, and you're more lenient toward them?"

"They don't kill any humans, I don't have a problem."

Harry nodded, musing silently; he silently admitted that he might have been wrong about the relationship between vampires and the sheriff, maybe they were just trying to make a semblance of normality for themselves, and considering some still attended school, it looked like it. But then again, the sheriff might be Compelled to say all this.

"I wonder if I might try something," Harry said.

"What?"

"I want to see whether or not you've been Compelled."

"How will you do that?"

"I'll rummage through your mind, searching for any walls that might be in there."

"You'll be reading my mind?" she asked shocked.

"Well considering the mind is not a book to be opened and read at leisure? That thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls? I would say no. Though I am a master, enough, of Legilimency that I can delve into your mind and interpret my findings correctly."

"No," said the Sheriff. "I don't think I'll allow that."

"Okay then," Harry said. "Well until I can prove otherwise, I'll assume you're under Compulsion, and I won't trust any decisions you make in regards to the vampires of this town, and I might plan a coup in the future."

"I think you'll find, Mr Potter, that I'm not easily spooked," said the woman, and she looked it, her eyes were unwavering, filled with strength Harry found he always admired. "Do as you wish, we usually don't have any problems with witches—"

"Wizard."

"—but when we do, we treat them as we would vampires."

Harry nodded. "I'll remember that, and consider myself warned."

He liked her, those were Harry's thoughts as he walked out of the woman's office, as he turned on the spot, and as he appeared in his lab. He went to his desk, rummaged through it and finally found what he was looking for, a black book with the word 'Occlumency' written on its cover. It was Harry's book, written so that he would not forget how he learned the Mental Art, and in his death, his charms would die, and whoever found it, it would be for the better, hopefully.

But now he felt the need to give it away. He got to work, charmed the book so the words would only be revealed the Sheriff—it would need her blood, but that was easy to achieve, Harry charmed one of the pages to give her a paper cut.

When all was done, the enchantments took close to an hour, he tapped the book three times, and muttered Portus under his breath; the book briefly had a blue glow, then returned to its sheen, black colour, before disappearing into thin air.

He'd done his part, he hoped the mayor would heed his message.

Harry waved his wand in complicated fashions, light shooting out every few minutes and hitting the broom hovering in front of him; he stopped, looking the broom over, then started again, another set of enchantments, theses usually tricky. He moved his wand, his brow furrowed in concentration, and his thoughts focused solely on his broom.

He finished, the broom glowing a bright gold colour which blinked on and off at set intervals. Harry stood, watching in apprehension; the trouble almost always came with the application of this spell. He waited, his on baited breath, and the colour gradually begin, then it stopped.

Harry didn't moved, he knew it was irrational, but he felt even the slightest of movements would jinx his entire work. But in the end he had to move, he took a step forward; then broom suddenly took on a deep red glow; a large fiery explosion tore through the room, and simultaneously all shielding enchantments activated.

It was a cacophony of sound and colour; fire burned fiercely, igniting sparks as it slammed into Harry's shields; there was a rumble in room, shaking every surface, and many would have broken were they not fortified with magic. Harry stood in the middle of the room, his face shielded from the intense heat, and his wand working towards a Cooling Charm. He succeed, cool air rushing over his body, he took only a breath, then pointed his wand towards the fiery storm.

"Pyrfin!"

The fire sucked itself in, disappearing into something akin to a vacuum, taking all it warmth with it; then, after quiet moment had passed, the vacuum suddenly spat out a large amount of smoke and ash.

Harry flicked his wand and opened a window, pushing the smoke out with conjured wind; then he started breathing again.

"Merlin, that was worse than the last time," Harry muttered to himself as he looked around the room. Thankfully there wasn't any damage to his lab.

Charming a broom was just about the hardest thing Harry ever had to do, Heck, even spell creation was far easier than the former. The last spell, the Fire-Ending Spell, had been one of his fire try at spell invention; it had taken only a moment to get, unlike brooms, which, after years of continuous tries at enchanting, still couldn't even fly straight.

Enough for today, Harry thought as he stalked out of the room, making sure to close the open window. He went down into the kitchen and started for himself something to eat, enchanting always made him feel a slight bit peckish.

"Done," asked Lexi.

"Taking a breather, yes. Where've you been?"

"Talking with Alaric," Lexi answered.

"Who?"

"An ex-hunter, and a friend of Damon's"

"The brown-haired guy?" Lexi nodded. "I thought you couldn't see other ghosts."

"Strange," she said, "but I can see him all of a sudden."

Harry rubbed his chin, thinking. Why was that? Harry's mind worked, and quickly came to an answer: it had something to do with the ring he had borrowed Damon. But what was it about the ring?

Harry had never personally used it, not when he could call spirits without the ring's aide, and they would answer. But it seemed the ring had other properties in this world than just calling forth spirits…maybe it made then more tangible? After all, supernatural spirits hadn't moved On, therefore the trip for them wasn't all that far, and maybe they didn't have to leave much of themselves behind? It was something to think on.

"It was fun, then?"

Lexi shrugged. "We didn't know each other too well, but talking to a new face is something I enjoyed."

"Good," said Harry, and he found his thoughts returning to the veil; his promise aside, there really had to be a non-lethal spell to tear it apart. Harry was sure that if he tired hard enough, he could find a way to break it himself, but he doubted that such actions would take place in the decade, or even this century. Magic to that scale still lay too far ahead of him, he couldn't even charm a broom, so that was really saying something.

"How are they reacting to me?" Harry asked. "The vampires?"

Lexi didn't answer for a long while. "They're weary."

"A little more might be off help," Harry said.

"Damon told them you were powerful, Elena and Stefan agreed, and that was the end of it."

Harry gave a satisfied nod, which was half his task done. If they were weary, then they would heed his warning, they would make sure not to step out of line, and with three of them unable to speak of him, that meant his secret was safe.

"What about the witch, Bonnie Bennett. How did she take to a wizard in town?"

"You don't need to worry about her anymore," said Lexi, sounding reluctant. "She lost her powers."

Harry's brow rose. "Lost her powers?" he asked. "What, did she misplace them? Did they mistakenly fall from her pocket as she stood from her seat?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I find that quite unlikely, magic doesn't work that way."

At least magic the way Harry knew it didn't; he was confused though, Bonnie was the only alive wish in Mystic Falls, Harry had surely thought that she was the Expression user. He didn't understand how Lexi could say the witch had lost her powers. It just seemed impossible; the witch who had created the veil didn't, she was a candidate of someone who would lose her powers. But still, Harry doubted that happened.

Lexi shrugged. "That's what I got from Alaric, and the guy says he's been keeping an eye on things."

Harry remained quiet, his mind still trying to work out how a witch could lose their powers; it scared him a little that that could happened. Magic was his life, without it he was a Muggle, without it there was nothing connecting him to his old world; without it his wand would just be a stick.

He would lose all he knew.

He couldn't have that, not one bit. He had to get out of this world before that ever happened, but there was still the matter of the veil, of Purgatory. He would be trapped if—at least he guessed—he died know. He had to find that way of ripping the veil, even for a little while, so there was ample opportunity for him to get out.

How would he play it though? However he played it, he was sure of one thing, he needed help.

He needed powerful allies.

Paraphrased Professor Severus Snape on the explanation for Occlumency.

Pyrfin, a spell I got off reading Harry Potter Forums, I got it off user, Auror Ferula's list of spells.