1. & 2. September 1996
It was the first of Septembre and Harry Potter stood alone at Platform 93/4 , in the shadows of a pillar where no sun would have the chance to burn him. In front of him, chatting like nothings going on were the Weasleys.
A small strip of light shone through the pillars, directly in front of his shoes. It made him, once again, think of just walking into the sun and burning. His life had become a living hell, why not end it? Ron wouldn't talk to him anymore, since the red-haired idiot was too afraid of him. Even assuring him countless times that when Harry wasn't hungry, he wasn't dangerous, didn't help one bit. Ron still looked at him as if he was a feral beast, ready to jump at his throat. By now Harry caught himself thinking about actually doing it, hungry or not, just to end his stares.
Most of the Weasley weren't any better. Every time he was at the Burrow Molly Weasley made sure he wouldn't sit even close to her children. Ginny Weasley acted as if she didn't know him anymore and Arthur only looked sadly at him. The only ones who'd still talk to him as if he wasn't an 'undead bloodsucker' were the twins and he wouldn't have any contact with them at Hogwarts, other than seeing their products in action.
However, the absolute worst was the absence of her. This year, he wouldn't have Hermione at his side. He would be alone this year. Truly alone. There would be no one asking if he had already done his homework. Nobody who would gift him with a beautiful smile whenever he did something to be proud of. There was no one who would stand by his side, no matter what others thought. No one to talk about matters of the heart. No one who would listen to his worries and sorrow or his happier thoughts.
She had been gone for nearly a month now, hiding somewhere nobody could find her, only showing when she hunted for blood and flesh, with Merlin knows how many parties after her. Remus had reported that even the bloody Germans searched for her, although he said they would help her for some reason. Why anyone would help a murderous monster like the thing Hermione had become was beyond him, but Remus kept suspiciously quiet about his visit to Bremen.
How many she had killed by now, he didn't know. He had stopped counting after the double dozen was full and he became sure that the girl he once knew was gone. By now it must be a bit over thirty people. Lately, the Order thought that she had stopped until the centaur Firenze had told Dumbledore that three of his kind were found murdered and sucked dry to the bone with huge chunks of flesh missing. Before that she had preyed on pretty much everything the magical and non-magical world had to offer. Whatever had blood and soul, Hermione killed it. Humans, Goblins, Centaurs – even a Mer was among the victims.
Harry had to remind himself that they were akin. He was also a vampire now, even if he walked during the day and tried to sleep at night. The rings under his eyes and the constant twitching of the same was a testimony of the sparse success he had with that strategy. He reminded himself that he was also supposed to hunt and suck peoples blood. Up until now, he did well enough with blood-donations given to him in flasks. One pint whenever he felt hungry. It was just enough to quench his thirst, but Harry would drop dead three times over before he'd hurt anyone, even if his lust for more was sometimes unbearable to suppress.
How Dumbledore had managed to get him back to Hogwarts remained a puzzle Harry found himself unable to solve.
He grew tired of looking at the many families on the platform saying goodbyes and kissing their kids on the cheeks, or hugging them lovingly. Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk and moved towards the train while trying to get as little attention as possible. However, a black clad figure with a scarf around his head, sunglasses and cloth over mouth and nose didn't go unnoticed. There were several eyes on him when he entered the train and looked for a compartment.
Harry moved quickly, now that he didn't have to watch for anyone to come along with him. He luckily found a compartment with no one in it in no time and entered. He drew close the curtains, both of the windows to the outside and to the inside. Then he placed his trunk above him, freed his face from the cloth and sat down with a huff.
This was going to be a long – long year at Hogwarts.
It didn't take long until the train started to move. Some last students hoped onto the slowly accelerating train, shouting some last good wishes behind their back. Then the Hogwarts Express left the station and with it the last chance for Harry to go back.
Even if the Order was now more a bunch of keepers for him, they at least let him be him in peace. Tonks occasionally brought more flasks of blood since her metamorph-blood smelled inedible to him, so no risk of biting her before getting his hands on the food. But other than that he only saw the Order when they talked about something Voldemort or Hermione related. The rest of the day he spent researching all about vampires with the books he got from Remus. The most studious and intelligent of the Marauders was the only one that didn't flinch and cower in his presence. Him and Sirius, even though the Heir to the Black fortune was no measurement. Over a decade in Azkaban made one a bit resistant to fear. Dementors were still scarier then vampires.
Harry lazily looked at the scenery outside the window and made an effort to ignore the audible whispers from outside his compartment. There wasn't even a possibility for him to cover up the fact. His eyes were a dead giveaway that he was an undead, teenage bloodsucker. But even without that, he would be hard pressed to explain why he lost his passion of flying in the bright, summer sun all of a sudden. Or why his pumpkin juice is dark-red. Or why he prefers to look at a girls throat instead of cleavage.
Hours he spent just looking outside the window. Trees, houses and fields ran by him and sooner or later it became a blur to him. He gazed outside and allowed his eyes to loose focus on anything. It cleared his mind and made him forget about the mess of his life. This dark blur of insomnia, sorrow and grief, mixed together with the knowledge that he was the one the world, even fate itself, expected to kill Voldemort.
"Why am I doing this again?" he asked the empty space around him.
Before he could fall deeper into his dark thoughts, he felt himself begin to smell the blood in the veins of the people in the compartments around him. A quick grab into his robes inner pocket produced a small, glass flask with blood in it. His provisions for the journey, so to say.
He opened the flask and smelled the familiar scent of treacle tarts, the wood of his broom and the flowery scent of the gardens of the Burrow. However,he knew that the taste would be bland, disgustingly so. Old, stale blood was just the worst.
Harry had gotten used to drinking the red liquid, even if his first attempts made him consider himself an abomination. Blood had the same smell to him as powerful love potions would. That fact alone made him decide that being a vampire is just beyond fucked up. He never had the questionable pleasure of drinking from a human directly, except for one time in the Ministry, but he knew that even the taste of fresh blood was close to his favorite dishes and the effects of Amortentia. It was the ultimate irony, for Harry at least, that a vampire would get the side effects of love potion while causing carnage among the living.
Merlin, how he hated this.
With a frown he held the flask up and looked at the old blood, an expression of disgust plastered on his face. He was about to drink it when his compartment door opened.
"So it is true?" the voice of Draco Malfoy drawled through the compartment. "The famous Harry Potter is a rotting bloodsucker."
Harry eyed the blond ponce with nothing but loathing and took in what he saw and smelled. The Malfoy heir was looking tired, exhausted and yet he went out of his way to see if the rumors are true. But his appearance was just secondary to Harry. What really peaked his interest was the sugary smell of the boys blood that ran through the artery right beneath the skin of his throat. He could smell just the faintest bit of fear.
"You may want to leave now, Malfoy." Harry growled in the voice he had gotten used to in the last weeks. The voice he used to threaten with.
Oh, how he would love to jump at the ponce and rip his throat out. The images already played in his mind, but Harry tried his hardest to suppress them. He had promised to keep it under control. He had given Remus and Sirius his word that he would do his best to finish his education, so that maybe he could one day at least find a life worth living among the vampires of Britain.
But for fucks sake, that greasy git looked appetizing.
And there were tutors out there, weren't there?
One could argue that a Malfoy gone was worth his education at Hogwarts. Yes, quite definitely a good argument, that.
"Sure. It stinks of blood an rotten flesh in here, anyway." Draco said and finished it up with one of his insufferable smirks before he vanished behind the walls of the compartment with a mocking laugh, leaving the scent of his suppressed fear behind.
Harry was immensely proud and equally disappointed by the restrained he had just shown. Compared to the stale blood in the flask, Draco's life juice smelled like a gourmet dinner. Especially since the blond ferret was just about to realize to whom, or better, to what he had just been a insufferable prick. Fear really spiced up blood.
He pressed his eyes close, lifted the flask and gulped its content down as fast as he could. As expected, it was absolutely disgusting.
The rest of the train ride went by without much disturbance. People still kept peeking in through the glass, and with his enhanced hearing, Harry could easily make out what they were saying. Judging from it, he would probably skip the meals in the Great Hall completely. He even thought about skipping the Welcoming Feast and just go to the dorms. But the already rising hunger said otherwise. Dumbledore had made it clear that he wanted Harry among the students so Harry had no hope of receiving his meal of blood in the dorm or at the kitchens.
Fucking, old and senile prick.
Didn't that sound like a great idea? Letting the undead boy walk through a buffet of blood while asking him to eat from the trash-bin. Any other time, Harry would have thought it a compliment that Dumbledore was so certain of his self restraint.
But this was just the absolute worst.
An entire train ride later, when he stepped out of the wagon, feeling a lot better without the sunglasses and scarfs hiding him, he was amazed that it was possible for people to create such a wide empty area on such a crowded train-station around him. Seeing if it would hold, he strut forward to the carriages and tried to make as little eye contact as possible. Those he shared glances with grew pale and quickly averted their gaze. His eyes were, after all, those of a predator. A sheep also refrains from looking a wolf in the eyes.
As he expected, he shared a carriage with just himself. The thestral that pulled the carriage drove him up to the castle, while he enjoyed the faint light of the moon that was now as bright for him as the sun was before his untimely non-death. He would've loved to do something, anything now, but even vampires got tired, especially when they hadn't slept good for weeks. It was such a weird feeling, being drawn out by the moon and simultaneously feeling like he could fall asleep on the spot.
With a heavy sigh he stepped out of the carriage and took a long look at the school in front of him. The lights, the students and Professor Flitwick who checked if everybody was there.
Harry didn't care if the half-goblin saw him or not, he just walked past him and entered the school and shortly after, the Great Hall. He just vaguely made out the other sixth years and sat down between Neville and Lavender. Both shuffled away from him as far as possible the moment he sat down.
It took all his discipline to ignore the whispers around him as well as the smell of fear and anger. He could hear them question the sanity of Dumbledore for letting him stay in Hogwarts, Chosen One or not.
Harry had to admit that in that point, he was in total agreement. This whole thing was surely one of Dumbledore's denser ideas.
Being bored by staring at the wooden table, he dared to glance at the Hall around him. As expected, all eyes were on him and most of them were either filled with loathing or fear. The Slytherins had some among them who snickered and giggled uncontrollably while pointing at him. Harry swore that if he ever lost control, he would rip those people apart, first.
The Ravenclaws had some among them who looked at him with unhidden curiosity as if he was a animal in a zoo. One of the seventh years even took notes. There was just Luna Lovegood who seemed to be way too distracted by something in one of her strains of hair to notice something as profane as a vampire in their midst.
The Hufflepuffs were, quite frankly, the most pathetic of them all. Harry could hear them already making plans to go out in at least groups of three and the sixth years as complete classes whenever they had a lesson with the Gryffindors. Harry could almost hear Hermione in his head. Honestly, as if that would save them from an angry vampire.
The last table he scanned with his enhanced senses were his own house-mates. The Gryffindors were, to say the least, split. Some were unsure what to think of the situation and proclaimed that they would wait and see. Others were anything but pleased to share a dorm with a bloodsucking, undead, dark creature. Ron was among those.
And one was... Harry focused his senses towards the voice of a girl and listened in on her conversation with her friends. It was Romilda Vane, as far as Harry remembered.
"But ignoring the eyes, he does look hot with all that muscle on him." she whispered to one of the girls around her. And what was that smell, Harry wondered in quite a bit of shock. Wait... was that... lust? 'Good Merlin, what is wrong with you, woman!?'
Harry tried not to make it too obvious on his face that he had just discovered that obviously, Vane was a necrophile. But just as he tried hard to not let the disgust show on his face, his nose kept the scent of longing women and it found it again at the Hufflepuff table.
Harry made sure to not directly hit the gaze of Susan Bones as she bit her lower lip. A shudder went down his spine and he averted his whole head, just to meet eyes of some Slytherin girl he had never recognized before who seemed to think about jumping at him right here in the Hall.
"This is ridiculous." Harry murmured and looked away towards the teachers table where he was sure he wouldn't...
"Oh, for fucks sake." he exclaimed, a bit louder this time. Up there on the teachers table sat one Aurora Sinistra and met his eyes. She wore, other than the teenage girls, unmasked longing on her face.
Harry just went back to facing the table and just tried not to flare up with the brightest blush since the time he asked Cho out to the Yule Ball. He was also thankful that the headmaster began his usual welcoming and beckoned the first years forward to be sorted into the Houses. The Sorting went quick, as the hat merely reminded everybody to stand closer together in difficult times and none of the firsties took longer than one minute to sort.
When the Sorting had ended and the last kid stormed off the podium to meet his new Ravenclaw house-mates, Dumbledore stood up from his chair at the head table and addressed the school one more time.
"Welcome and welcome back, everybody. I am glad to see you all healthy and well before me, especially in these troubled times. As the Sorting Hat has just reminded us, we must stand together to face the evil that threatens our world. So I invite you to look beyond houses, beyond groups and petty differences while learning to master your magical craft." He opened his arms in a wide gesture while he spoke and pointedly ignored the occasional snort from the Slytherin table. "But even though great danger lies before us, some smaller dangers are also within reach. The Forbidden Forest is, as the name suggests, forbidden. Also the list of prohibited items and artefacts got updated and is available in Mister Filchs office. I invite you to look them up at your convenience." Then Dumbledore's posture visibly sagged and the twinkle in his eyes vanished from them. "One last thing before we eat. Most of you will have heard of what happened to Mr. Potter while he engaged in battle with the forces of Lord Voldemort. It is indeed true that Mr. Potter is now a vampire..." Loud gasps across the hall made Harry roll his eyes. "...and is within this school."
Somewhere around the Ravenclaw table, Harry heard someone shout "Why?" which lead to myriads of voices shouting simultaneously.
"Why is he here?"
"Is he dangerous?"
"Who protects us from him?"
The questions and angry shouts mixed into a blur of sound before Dumbledore silenced everybody with a Sonorus charm and a discipline demanding "SILENCE!"
He dispelled the Sonorus and then continued as calmly as before. "Mr. Potter is capable of controlling his hunger and will not cause problems, let alone pose a source of danger to you. He learned and learns to live among humans and I hope that you will see past his condition in time, for in the end, he is still Harry Potter. A friend to many of you and a fellow student to all of you."
Dumbledore kept a pause, making clear that the matter was now over and all they needed to know had been said. "Well then, everybody. I'd say hat this is enough words from me for today. Let me end my speech with two last ones. Dig in!"
At the words, the tables filled with foods of all kinds. None of them edible for Harry with the exception of the content of one pitcher before him. A metal pitcher full of what Harry's nose identified as animal blood. Probably cow or pig, he thought. But given his already twitchy mood, he might as well find out.
Harry grabbed the goblet before him and filled it to the brink with the thick red liquid. Meanwhile the table around him grew still as they watched him move the goblet to his lips. Harry tried to ignore the stares, but it irritated him to no end that they would stop eating to watch him drink blood. Hell, Dean even gagged when he watched Harry drink the bland tasting liquid, pig blood he identified, in big gulps to make the taste as bearable as possible.
When he was finished, he took another goblet full of blood and then another. After the third he felt his hunger satisfied and found the Gryffindor table in a horrified stun. Harry just raised his hands in an annoyed gesture and asked "Did you expect me to drink pumpkin juice?" loud enough for all the staring Lions to hear.
The silence that spread across the table was filled with anticipation. Whoever would crack first, would set the mood, so Harry knew. Then a small giggle could be heard from down the table and Harry immediately recognized it as Vanes' voice. Following her lead, the whole table began to chuckle until some even loudly roared in laughter. A testimony to the tension that had been present before Harry's mediocre joke.
They didn't stop to look at him nervous, but at least the table continued to eat and stopped acting like Harry would kill them all the next second. He made a mental note to thank Romilda for that later, even if her fetish seemed to be dead people. That still crept him out beyond belief.
When the feast was nearly over and the last brave stomachs ended their second helping of dessert, Professor McGonagall walked up and quickly informed him that the headmaster would like to speak to Harry in his office.
So just when everybody stood up and made their ways to their dorms, Harry made his way to the familiar gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmasters office and waited in front of it. McGonagall hadn't told him the password and so Harry assumed that sooner or later someone would come to let him in.
Just a few minutes later, Dumbledore walked around the corner with his usual twinkle in his eyes as he recognized Harry standing and waiting.
"Good evening, Harry. Good of you to come."
"Good evening, Professor. Professor McGonagall said you wanted to talk to me."
Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "That is correct. And I presume you already know what will be the subject of conversation. But let us take this into my office. Sourpops."
At the usual candy inspired password the gargoyle stepped away from the entry and let headmaster and student enter. Both kept silent while the stairs carried them upwards and as they walked into the office. Without further ado, Dumbledore took his seat behind the huge desk and Harry sat down in front of it.
The headmaster's hand moved towards the bowl of lemondrops on his desk and Harry was already opening his mouth to remind the Professor that candy is also rather unhealthy for his undead system, when the Professor grabbed a smaller bowl behind the sour-sweet candy and offered it to Harry. "Blood Pops?"
"What?" Harry let out when he saw the dark-red candy before him.
"Blood Pops. A candy I found rather useless until lately, when I figured you'd be unable to enjoy the taste of lemondrops."
"Its actual blood?" Harry asked gobsmacked.
"Yes it is. That is why I'm so curious as to why some of the living even bother to buy them." Dumbledore answered in a cheerful tone.
Harry didn't even think too much about it and just grabbed one of the curious round candies. He first smelled it and determined that it was animal blood. Then he flung it in his mouth and was amazed by how good they tasted. Nothing like the bland and sometimes even foul taste of old blood. It tasted like freshly drawn blood with a thick layer of sugary flavors above all. "They're amazing." Harry commented, still stunned by the fact that there was candy for vampires. But then he regained his composure and looked back at the warm, smiling headmaster. "I'm sure you didn't invite me here to show me vampire candy?"
"Well observed, Harry." Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm here to discuss your special condition and the ramifications of said condition."
"Or in other words, you want to discuss how I'm going to fit into a school full of still pumping hearts."
"First of all, I think it is of great importance to not decline into a cynical mindset." Dumbledore said, his expression sporting a slight frown at Harry's comment. "Second of all, you will have help."
Harry rose his eyebrow slightly, unsure of what the headmaster meant. He truly hoped that it was more than the half-truths he heard all summer from the Aurors, Remus and his godfather, as well meant as they were. Dumbledore began to chuckle at Harry's skeptical look and just waved his hand towards the door. "Help has just arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Just a few seconds."
Harry waited in a mix of nervous anticipation and actual excitement. On one side he thought with dread that Dumbledore had completely sent his brain on vacation and made him take lessons with Snape again. On the other hand, what if the headmaster actually did something that benefited him immediately? A far shot, but Harry still had hope.
He heard the steps on the stairs and sighed in relief when he made out the distinct noise of high-heeled shoes. But what came as a surprise to him was that he couldn't smell anything beyond a faint, but stunning parfum.
"Enter, please." Dumbledore said and opened the door with a flick of his wand.
Harry couldn't hold the gasp that escaped him when he saw one of, if not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, safe for, maybe, Fleur Delacour. The woman had black hair that went down her back and ended just above her well formed bottom. Her features were so close to someone that Harry felt some weird sense of familiarity. However, most importantly, the violet color of her eyes were surrounded by black where the white should have been. The woman was a vampire.
Dumbledore went close to her without a second thought, took her hand and placed a respectful kiss on the back of it. Then he led her into the room and let her take a seat on a quickly conjured couch.
"Harry, may I introduce to you the Lady Isla Black?" he said with a polite smile on his face.
"Black, as in... The House of Black?"
"Indeed, Mr. Potter. I'm related to your godfather... and to your father for that matter. Pureblood families are always, aren't they?" she finished with a slight, elegant giggle that made Harry's knees weak.
"Sirius had never mentioned you." Harry pressed out while trying to regain control over his teenage hormones.
"Sirius Black doesn't know me, I would think. I don't mingle much with the mortals, Mr. Potter."
Still having enough sense to put two and two together, Harry asked confused. "Then why are you here to help me? No offense, but I would need advice on how to 'mingle with mortals' as you put it."
Again that giggle, and again Harry had to struggle to keep his wits. Somewhere in his head a voice told him to just walk up to her and take her on the couch, no matter if the old geezer watches or not. Harry made a mental note to shut that voice up for good.
"I may not mingle much with mortals, but I assure you, that is more than most vampires do. We are a very... exclusive society." she answered with her regal and beautiful voice. "Tell me, Mr. Potter. Today at the feast. What did you witness?"
"You mean, other than people who'd like nothing more than at least a mile between me and them?" he asked, quite aware of the disapproving look the headmaster gave him.
"Very good, Mr. Potter. It is indeed in the nature of humans to avoid vampires like gazelles avoid lions." she said way too cheerful for that topic. She turned to Dumbledore who sported the slight frown from before on his face. "Oh please, Albus. We are merely stating the obvious. It is just natures way that vampires hunt humans, even if we try to overcome these instincts, nowadays."
"I trust that you will keep Mr. Potter clear of the... natural paths, Isla?" the headmaster asked, no twinkle in his eyes to be seen.
The answer he received came with a frown that twisted the beautiful face of Isla Black and showed but a hint of her more feral, vampiric nature. "I will teach him to restrain his hunger. I will not teach him to become a daywalker, let alone deny his nature. He is a vampire, Albus, and I will introduce him to our ways."
"This is not what we have agreed upon." Dumbledore started but was interrupted by a growl from Lady Black.
"What? I have never agreed to anything that would harm the boy, Albus! It is not natural for him to walk the day. It is not natural for him to never taste blood from veins and it is certainly not in his best interest to pretend he never got bitten."
"This is not yours to decide, Isla!" Dumbledore countered.
"But it is your decision?" Isla spat back, her expression now twisted in anger. "You're a fool, Albus. You've always been one. You could never stand it if fate takes away your chess-pieces, you little man. And the brutality with which you try to keep them betrays how weak you really are."
She then turned around and faced Harry dead on. "If you want to live a good, long life, then you are welcome to join me. It seems like I won't be able to teach you anything within these walls and I urge you to act upon your instincts. Failing to do so will, eventually, be fatal." Her face lit up then and a warm, gentle smile appeared. "You are family Harry, never forget that. Your grandmother was a Black and you are the heir to the House. You are always welcome within the Black Clan."
"Leave now, Isla. I see this was a mistake."
"As you wish, Albus." she returned bitter-sweet. "But a mistake it was not. I daresay you never acted more in Harry's interest."
With that she quickly stood from the conjured couch and made her way to the door in fast steps. She nearly ripped the door from its hinges when she opened it with force and was about to leave when she turned around one last time and gave Harry a little lopsided grin. "It is not mine and it is not Albus' decision. It is yours, Harry." she said and with a giggle and a wink, she left.
She left behind a deeply confused Harry who had witnessed the exchange with silent awe. None of the two had noticed it seemed, but both had radiated power when they spoke in anger. It was as if Harry could see the magic surrounding them.
But then, when the initial surprise ebbed away, he played through what was spoken and immediately agreed that he was so not going to become a daywalker, if he interpreted that word right. He had two months of close to no sleep behind him and he was getting sick of it, both mentally as well as physically.
Before he could ponder on the other things said, Dumbledore sighed loudly and took a seat behind the headmasters desk. "I'm sorry Harry, but it seems I have miscalculated. I never thought Isla Black would ignore your best interests in order to gain more power within her own Clan."
"I found the things she said reasonable." Harry said quietly. He was still in thought and didn't meet the headmasters eyes, but he could almost feel the grandfatherly gentleness of them fade at Harry's words. He could smell anger in the headmaster and also some sort of fear, or rather, anxiety. Whatever it was, it told Harry to be cautious.
"It is of great importance, Harry, that you keep your rhythm to sleep in the night and wake at day..."
"Why?" interrupted Harry. "Because frankly, I feel like I'm about to fall over any time now. I didn't sleep well in weeks."
"Don't let your mind be corrupted by Lady Blacks words. It is a time of change for you and if you keep at it, you'll make it through. I believe in you, Harry."
Harry closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. Wasn't that what he had heard the last month, over and over? They believed in him, they all said. But with the exception of three who had no fear of him and the headmaster who could, arguably, rip him apart with a flick of his wand, there was no one who believed in close proximity to him. No, within a range of ten meters, everybody tended to loose faith.
But he had promised Sirius and Remus, and he would hold onto his word. So he just nodded and stood up. "Alright, headmaster."
With that he walked towards the door, but was stopped short.
"One more thing, Harry. It pains me to say this, but we had to arrange a separate bedroom for you to sleep in. Hogwarts has provided you with another room, accessible from the Common Room."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Harry returned, anger and frustration evident in his voice. "At least I won't be disturbed while lying awake in bed. Good night, headmaster." he said with venom and left an exhausted Dumbledore alone in his office. This had gone pear-shaped faster than the old wizard had anticipated.
***Countess***
While Albus Dumbledore mused over his options and future plans, scolded himself for not expecting Black to use this opportunity he provided, Harry went to the Gryffindor Common Room in the longest possible way, taking some secret passages and other, more commonly known shortcuts.
Several times during his walk through the castle he thought about spending the night outside of his bed, roaming the corridors and maybe exploring a bit. The moon called for him and ignoring it was harder than he imagined.
The other, nearly as consistent thought was what Isla Black had said before she left. She had called him family and offered him a place among the vampires. 'Among my kind' he added in his mind and didn't stop himself thinking like that, now that he had witnessed first hand how a crowd of humans reacted to him. Just as Remus had warned him. Like sheep when they see a wolf.
He hated this so much. The mere thought of roaming around the cities of Britain at night, alongside fellow vampires, almost dragged him outside the castle, never to be seen again by the headmasters eyes. On the other hand, he couldn't disappoint Sirius and Remus.
When the moon was at its highest point, he settled for the Common Room where he found a door that led to a medium sized bedroom with a four-poster bed and a small desk, barely enough to write on. There were no windows in the room and the only light came from a torch that hung next to the door to an even smaller bathroom.
Harry's trunks was in front of the bed. He changed his clothes and lay down in the soft cloth, just to stay awake in frustration, with a longing and a nagging voice in his head that told him that Isla Black was probably still at Hogsmeade.
Isla Black. Harry didn't know what to think of her. Her beauty was out of this world, but the way she interacted with Dumbledore betrayed her actual age. She must know him for a long time by now to speak on such an equal basis with him.
And her point stood true, no matter how hard Harry tried, just for the sake of argument, to find holes in her words. Yes, he was a vampire. Yes, he was exhausted and wished to just sleep through the day. No, he did not want to become a daywalker. The way she had said the word, and the implications it entailed, plus his own experience with the sun's torture were enough for Harry to know that this wasn't a fate he was willing to endure.
Harry just lay in his bed, watching the ceiling and contemplating his options. There weren't many, if he was honest with himself. There was Hogwarts. A life of hardship and loneliness that promised not much beyond staying in an environment he had grown accustomed to and a solid education.
Then there was this woman, probably waiting for him in Hogsmeade. This woman who seemed to consider him family. He knew how easily that could be a trap. It wasn't really a secret that family was something he craved. In addition, it was Sirius' family no less.
Albus Dumbledore or Isla Black? Pretending to be human or standing true to his new life? Known hardship or unknown adventure?
"Why am I even thinking about this?" Harry exclaimed frustrated. Of course there was but one option. One option that held promise to make him happy. It would break many hearts and even more bonds of trust. It would shake the very foundation of some plans against Harry's nemesis. But then, once and for all, it held the potential to make him happy.
With new found energy, Harry changed back into his robes, flung the pajamas into his trunk and with a loud thud shut it close. Shrinking it didn't work at his first attempt. His vampire magic was still something he had problems controlling accurately. But at the third try, the trunk finally shrunk to pocket-size and it found a place on the insides of Harry's robes.
He grabbed his wand and breathed one more time, going over what he had decided on.
Leave the Common Room, run down to the Womping Willow, take the passageway to the Shrieking Shack, meet Isla Black in Hogsmeade if she's still there. If not... well, he had never been good at Plan B.
One more sharp breath and he was off. He had to hold himself back with his will alone to not sprint through the portrait and wake it up.
With a fast pace, silent for his vampire muscles made his steps soft and smooth, he walked through the corridors and descended the steps quickly. He paid close attention to the smells and sounds around him. Somewhere in the halls was Mrs. Norris and he smelled the caretaker, Filch, not far from her. There was also the sound of water flowing through the pipes and the whispers of ghosts that echoed through to his ears on a very special frequency.
It took him longer than he had anticipated to reach the door that lead through the greenhouse gardens and to the Whomping Willow. He opened it and the scent of grass and a myriad of other plants streamed into him. The moon above greeted him like a father greeted his child and encouraged Harry in his decision. This was where, or better, when he belonged. Under the moon, free from shackles of obligations.
But then reality took a brutal grasp on his mind as he heard the voice of Dumbledore next to him, standing between greenhouses.
"I'm disappointed in you, Harry. One would think that after all this time, you would not betray us so easily."
Without his senses, Harry would have thought that the headmaster was calm. But immense anger streamed in the veins of the old wizard, mixed with the magical power of a great warlock. It made Harry shiver with fear at the thought of being exposed to such power.
It took all his willpower, but Harry refused to remain stunned at place. He slowly moved away from Dumbledore and tried his hardest to make out his surroundings. Sure enough, he found the scent of potions and dungeons behind him, approaching fast. Then the scent of parchment, black tea and cat-hair. Finally, the scent of earth and fertilizer, mixed with the smell of half-human blood. Snape, McGonagall and Hagrid.
"Here to catch me?" he shouted over the greenhouses. He felt their steps coming to a halt. "Yeah, I smell you! I feel your steps and I can sense your intentions."
"We just want your best, Harry." came from Dumbledore. It made Harry even angrier and even more afraid at how calm he spoke, even though his blood boiled.
But Harry refused to bow. His exhaustion and frustration were just too much to hold back. "The best? Really, Professor, you want what is best for me?" With every words, Harry searched for escape routes. Snape and McGonagall now moved slower, while Hagrid stood frozen in place. But either way, the paths were blocked. The only way was back into Hogwarts.
He didn't even bother to keep speaking, he just jumped back over the threshold and sprinted as fast as he could. He could hear some commands being shouted by Dumbledore, but paid them no attention. Again he heard Hermione's voice in his head and it laughed at how quick Plan A had failed.
His steps carried him through the Entrance Hall were he dodged three quick stunners from someone who reeked of firewhiskey and old leather – Moody. He didn't even glance back at the old Auror, just ran up a flight of stairs, taking three steps at a time.
The stairs moved out of place and he found himself in need to jump. With a leap of faith, he sprung at the edge of where the stairs led just seconds before. A yellowish spell hit the railing next to him. His cue to move faster, more effective and finally get a goal into sight.
"DON'T HURT HIM YOU IMBECILE!" echoed the angered voice of McGonagall through the halls.
Harry ran faster and faster, to a point where even his vampire muscles protested from extensive use. He practically flew through the corridors by now, always on the lookout for an escape route until a rather stupid plan went through his mind. Through the windows of the corridor, he saw the lake, at least seven levels beneath the castle. He stopped in front of one and in his head the thoughts rushed through him. Jump, run, surrender?
Jump.
With a mighty leap he jumped out of the window and into the cool night. Once again he saw the moon and something exhilarating flew through his emotions. He turned around in mid air and Harry stretched out his body, his arms in front of his head. It felt like an eternity to Harry in which he flew through the air, head first towards the water.
His hands broke the surface and with a loud splash, he entered the dark depths. Cool water entwined his body and even his vampiric eyes needed time to get a feel for the light in the water. He decided to wait beneath the surface for any spellfire to hit. When he saw no flashes of light at the surface, he swum back up to take a deep breath.
In the distance he could see Hogsmeade. It would be a long and exhausting swim, but Harry was determined. He just hoped that the Grindelows wouldn't bother him and the Merpeople hat better things to do than capture Harry for Dumbledore. So he begun to slowly swim through the otherwise calm lake towards the promising lights at the other end of the long, stony beach.
He could hear voices shout in the castle and see many windows fill with light. It seemed like they hadn't seen him jump. The shouts differed from angry to nervous, to downright despairing.
As he so swum through the cold water, Harry began to feel the anger at the true face of the headmaster. The last few minutes he had felt like a fox, hunted by pack of dogs, with Dumbledore riding after them on his triple-damned high horse.
It took half an hour until he was at about the half of his way to Hogsmeade. Exhausted and frozen to the bone, harry decided to swim to the edge of the water and run the rest of the way.
There was no use in him freezing to a statue and then being captured by the Giant Squid.
When he reached the beach, he let just barely more than his eyes and nose look out of the water. He scanned the area for signs of life or any scent that didn't belong. When he found nothing unusual in the mix of water, grass and late-summer air, he emerged from the water and quickly made his way to the small village by foot.
A quick drying charm and some reorientation later, Harry jogged to his destination from cover to cover. Bush after bush and tree after tree he came closer to Hogsmeade. His feet carried him, almost instinctively towards Madam Rosmerta's Three Broomsticks. The pub he had loved to visit with Hermione and Ron became now his first choice to look for Isla Black.
Cautious and without any sound he looked inside the pub. It was just a small chance, but it would've been just too good a coincidence if she'd just sit in the pub. But of course, the Lady Black did not mingle with mortals.
Harry was about to turn around and look somewhere else when he saw the chimney fire burn in green flames and Dumbledore walking out of the embers.
"Oh, by all things..." Harry began to curse. He turned around and ran through the streets when the crack of apparition sounded through the night and the from of Severus Snape appeared before him.
"Arrogant as ever. Did you honestly believe that you could escape? You have a role to play, Mr. Potter and you will play it." the potion master drawled, his enjoyment of the situation evident in his voice. He raised his wand and without a word, ropes flew from it.
Harry barely dodged them and drew his own wand, a spell on his lips, when a blue spell hit him in the ribs. It pressed the air out of his lungs and for a second, Harry thought he would black out. His robes were destroyed and with dread Harry found his shrunken trunk burnt to ashes. The Marauders Map, his Invisibility Cloak, his Firebolt and the photos of his parents... gone. He barely felt the burning on his skin through the shock at the loss of his most valuable possessions.
Alastor Moody came from the direction of the spell, his gaze the same he wore whenever he fought Death Eaters. His natural and his artificial eye were fixated on Harry and the next spell was already on his lips. With a flick of his wand, a orange spell shot at Harry. Harry couldn't dodge and so it hit him square in the chest where it began to burn him like sunlight.
His legs gave way and with a scream of pain Harry sunk onto the cobblestone street. He could feel the spell burning through his skin and tried to direct his wand to the point. But his arms cramped and his tendons tensed and relaxed uncontrollably. He lost his wand. A wail of despair and anger escaped his throat as he saw his Phoenixfeather and Holly wand roll away from his grasp.
Another spell hit him, but this time it negated the searing orange spell on his chest.
"ALASTOR! ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" roared McGonagall over the streets.
"The boys got it comin'." was the simple answer from Moody. "The spell got the job done. I reckon we..."
But Moody couldn't speak anymore as countless spells fired at the Auror and the teachers from all sides of the streets. A firework of dozens and dozens of spells lit up the night. Harry could see Moody and Snape dodging most of them, shielding against another barrage, but finally succumbing to one or two spells that hit. McGonagall immediately fell to a stray Stupor. The old Auror got hit with what Harry could only describe as a explosive hex that sent him flying against the edge of a house where he slumped down onto the ground, groaning in pain. Snape was better at dodging spells, but ultimately got his right foot cut open. He lost his balance and before he could muster the strength for another shield, a red stunner met his forehead. The potion master fell over, unconscious. Silence was behind him and the only one still standing, as far as Harry could sense, was the headmaster.
"Harry! I knew you would make the right decision."
A long, heavy breath escaped Harry at the sound of Isla Blacks voice. Tears ran over his cheeks and he began to laugh like a madman. Plan B had worked, even though it had cost him much.
Through the tears he saw vampires surrounding the area. Every single one of them had his wand leveled at the headmaster, who stood stoic in front of the Three Broomsticks, desperate for something to do.
"Now, now... Albus, I see you stand true to your ways. Shooting the Helios curse at a vampire? I was sure you had your Auror trained better than that."
"Lady Black. I see you have anticipated this?" Dumbledore asked, not even trying to hide his anger this time. Harry was feeling the atmosphere around the headmaster ripple as his magic flared.
"At first, no. But after I have seen the poor boy in your office, I have definitely expected it." she said. Her voice was unwavering in the presence of the powerful wizard. "Harry? Can you stand up and come over here?"
Unable to speak, Harry just nodded and forced his body up. His chest still burned from the spell and when he looked down on it, he saw his skin, black and burnt, hanging from his ribs. It nearly made him retch in disgust. The smell of it clouded his senses. Slowly, limb for limb, he got up and then stood, wavering and struggling for balance, not ten meters in front of the headmaster.
He had never seen the so often kind and understanding wizard in this state. The tip of Dumbledore's wand blazed up with sparks of magic, the air around him seemed to burn and beneath him the cobblestone seemed to tremble from the sheer power that was barely held back. All was nothing against the murderous glare in the headmasters eyes. Gone was every bit of kindness. It got replaced with loathing and rage that twisted the mans face in an grimace Harry was sure he would never forget.
Harry picked up his wand. He nearly fell over as he did so. With small steps he made his way to where the voice of Isla Black had come from. The beautiful vampire stood like a statue of a greek goddess in between two houses. Scrivenshafts and some private home. She had her hands opened wide for him and through the cloud of pain that threatened to encircle him, it was the only thing he saw.
When he reached her, two warm and soft hands enclosed him in a tight embrace. His head rested against her shoulders while Isla Black cooed soft words in his ears, ensuring him that he was safe. He couldn't keep standing, his legs gave up, but her strong arms kept him from falling.
When he thought he could fall into her embrace his thoughts were disrupted by angry shouts, wands blazing with spells and the sight of the focused power of Albus Dumbledore.
The spell on his wand shone brightly with the flames of a thousand suns. The curses of the vampires vanished when they touched the shield around the warlock. His mouth whispered incantations and Harry felt himself be twirled around in an failed attempt at side-by-side apparition.
With a shout of frustration, Isla shoved Harry into the hands of a nameless vampire beside her. With fury she turned around, her wandpoint towards the headmaster.
"Morgmogos!" she shouted and a dark red spell shot from her wand. With a explosion, red like the spell and bright orange like Dumbledores shield, the spell crashed into the headmasters defenses.
For a short time, loud chanting could be heard from inside the bubble. "...Humilitier majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus..."
Harry was barely able to see the scene through his exhaustion, pain and teary eyes, but he could clearly see the old wizard standing there like a boulder, unmoving in a rain of spells, chanting undisturbed as if the vampires fired Stinging Hexes at him.
Isla Black shouted commands Harry couldn't understand, but nothing seemed to help. The vampires who tried to attack the headmaster head on, were punished with a intense force against their bodies. Huge burns were visible on their limbs as they crawled away from where they attacked.
Some of the vampires tried to apparate and others waited desperately for orders from Black. The vampire Lady stood frozen in place, her eyes on a search for something, anything to do. She fired spell after spell against the headmasters defenses, but instead of becoming weaker, the shield became stronger and brighter. "Morgmogos! Ferfal! Flax! Levathi!" she shouted. The dark-red spell shot against the shield, followed by a blue one that just vanished and a grey spell, formed like boomerangs that split the earth around the headmaster, but didn't even penetrate the shield. The last one shot black as darkest night and exploded like shrapnel.
Dumbledore merely reacted by moving the corners of his mouth slightly up while he kept chanting. By now some of the vampires ran for it, away from the warlock that threatened to destroy them with a mysterious spell. "Cowards!" Isla Black hissed. However, her own face showed her desperation.
Harry watched helpless as the spell of Dumbledore took form. A white sphere, glowing like the sun itself, had formed at the point of his wand. The sight alone made Harry's eyes hurt. It produced intense heat and he felt the same sensation as when he faced the sun. It made him even weaker, fragile and held the promise of a death in flames.
But instead of the desperation from before, a evil grin was plastered on Isla Blacks face as she lifted her wand and with a flick of it she pointed at the unconscious form of Professor McGonagall. The headmaster couldn't react before the old and stern teacher flew into the hands of Isla Black. Her wand was pressed against McGonagalls temple, the threat obvious. "Stop this, Albus! Stop this now or I'll end her!"
The triumphant smirk on Dumbledores face vanished, his spell didn't.
"I will kill your precious pet, Albus! Stop this madness immediately!"
Still, no reaction from the headmaster. The only thing changing, the only movement was the violent glow of the pulsating orb of light.
Harry was in a delirium. His chest burned and his head fought with unconsciousness. When asked later, he wouldn't know how to describe what he thought or why he did what he did. But in the moment, he knew that Albus Dumbledore was desperate. He knew the old man better than most wizards and witches in Britain. He knew what made the twinkle in his eyes vanish and he knew what made it glow. Harry had been target and executor of Albus Dumbledore's expectations, hopes and plans. So he knew that there was not much that would break the old wizards concentration.
So he freed himself from the nameless vampires hands. Harry stumbled forward, to where Isla Black held an incapacitated McGonagall hostage. The deputy and Albus Dumbledore's confidante. His first lieutenant and sturdy, unwavering comrade.
Harry didn't know afterwards why he bit her, deep into her artery where her blood waited for him to be drunk. He felt magic swirl around him, through his fangs and into the deputy headmistress. He didn't know why he did it, but it had the desired effect.
Albus Dumbledore lost all life in his face. The chanting stopped and he stared with shock in the black and green eyes of his former hope. Harry Potter hung on the neck of McGonagall and from his fangs and her body streamed blood in thick lines.
The shield lost in color and the orb of light at his wand began to shiver, then loose form and finally vanished from sight without doing whatever it would have done.
Harry felt the eyes of everybody fixating him as he sucked the blood from the deputy headmistress. It cleared his head and numbed the pain with its intoxicating taste. Minerva McGonagall's blood was as delicious as the finest steak, smelled better than the fumes of perfectly brewed Amortentia and offered him strength.
In return he filled her with his magic. Harry felt it corrupt her veins, her skin and bones. It moved with the bloodstream into her organs and limbs. It saturated her brain and her heart and consumed her from the inside out. There was darkness spreading in her magic. An all consuming blackness that slowly began to change her.
Isla Black looked at the young man, hanging onto the old woman's throat and damned the gods. With Harry alone, there would've been much to do. Now there was another to care for. But Isla would worry about this at a later time. She had felt the apparition wards collapse as clearly as she felt the old mans magic tremble in limbo between anger and disbelieve. Somewhere in her heart she could feel pity and maybe even empathy for the old wizard who just lost both his Chosen One and his most loyal follower.
Soft was her voice as she spoke to Dumbledore and strong was it, but Isla made sure that her true feelings for the headmaster couldn't be misunderstood. "This didn't have to happen, Albus. But you are truly the same fool you were all those years back. It was the same with Gellert. The same with Riddle. The same with my niece! You are..." She didn't continue, but ended in a soft sigh of resignation.
"Anyway..." Isla Black said. "You had your chances with him. Farewell, Albus."
With a crack and the known sensation of apparition, Harry disappeared from Hogsmeade where a beaten Albus Dumbledore watched as a small troop of vampires vanished in the darkness.
Where exactly he landed, Harry didn't see. His vision was blurred and he felt his consciousness slowly fade. Despite all the blood he had drunk, he was still weak and could barely move. The only thing he sensed was the tight embrace of Isla Black as she carried him into a room. He felt soft, silken cloth caress his body as he was lain onto a bed and hasty hands treating him with a paste of sorts. It cooled his chest and filled his nose with the faint scent of blood and lavender. It stung as his chest began to heal, but Harry didn't care. His vision blurred further, his senses failed to work and finally, his eyes fell shut.
Finally, he found sleep.
***Countess***
Well, this was a long one. I'm glad its done. I fought with every bit of this chapter and writing it was more of a chore than joy. Anyway, Harry is now with his kind, the Black Clan and we can finally dive into vampire culture.