Now that we have gotten the beginning out of the way, we can get into the meat of the story! Annnnd: Yay Larten is back!

Enjoy!

Chapter Ten

"The Shrieking Shack"

We pulled to a stop at an open iron gate. I hopped off the carriage and said goodbye to the, still spooked, trio. They were headed to Honeydukes. I was headed to the shrieking shack. I followed the small wooden signs, which were along the sides of the cobblestone road, until I reached the far end of the village. I looked around to see if there were any eyes nearby and, seeing none, I slipped into the woods –I didn't want to be seen walking up the hill to the shack. I slipped through the trees and came to the edge of the woods- directly across from the shack. I gathered up the muscles in my legs and sprinted to the shack, my figure blurring as I moved. I hoped that anyone who saw me wrote off the strange blurring figure as some sort of ghost, which were rumored to reside in the shack.

I walked inside the back door, wincing as it made a loud creaking noise when I pulled it open. I looked around the dark shack, trying to find some sign of my mentor. I walked further inside when I didn't immediately see him. I heard a rustle of fabric behind me, but acted as if I hadn't heard it. I took a nonchalant glance at the window, using the slight reflection to see Mr. Crepsley crouching above the doorway. I watched as he tensed his muscles, preparing to leap. When he finally jumped, I jumped down, landing spread eagle on the floor, causing Mr. Crepsley to fly over my head –strait into the wall! The decaying wood buckled under his weight, and he fell on the floor in a heap.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. A flustered Mr. Crepsley stood to his feet, turning to face me. His face was already beginning to show signs of bruising. His nose was twisted far to the side, giving him a comical look.

"How's your face?" I asked, still laughing. "I don't recommend setting your nose back into place –it looks better like that!"

"Do not be ridiculous," he stated, twisting his nose back with a loud crunch. "At least your senses have not dulled any more than they already were. If I had not wanted you to hear me, I would not have rustled my robes. It was merely a test."

"Stuffy as ever I see..." I replied. "Nice place you've got here," I said, looking at the shabby and torn furniture, and the claw marks along the wall. "See any ghosts?"

"Of course not," he said, rolling his eyes. "There is no such thing."

"Actually… You'd be surprised…"

I told him about the strange specters that were floating around the halls of Hogwarts. He looked troubled when I had finished my tale.

"That is most unnerving. I had assumed that Paradise and the Lake of Souls were the only destination for the departed."

"Me too," I replied. "First Little People, now ghost. What's next? Zombies?"

"Harkat seems a bit like a zombie…" Mr. Crepsley remarked.

We both laughed at that and exchange a glance.

"I missed you," I told him.

"I missed you as well," he replied, looking uncomfortable. (He was never a touchy-feely kind of person)

I smiled and said, "I have a present for you!"

"What is it?" he asked, looking suspicious.

I pulled a blood pop from my bag and gave it to him.

He looked at the sucker with a weary expression and asked, "A Lollipop?"

"Just taste it," I replied. "They're awesome."

"If this is a joke…" he said, letting a warning slip into his voice.

He peeled off the candy's wrapper and gingerly licked the pop. His eyes widened in surprise as he registered the taste. He licked it again, to make sure he had tasted right, and turned to me.

"Why does this candy taste like blood?" he asked.

"It's a blood pop!" I told him. "I bought them on the school train."

"Why on earth would they be selling blood coated candy on a train meant for human children?" he asked, bewildered.

"The trolley-lady said it was usually used for pranks," I explained. "But, I bet they are really for any vampires that might show up."

"I suppose that makes sense," he said, stroking his scar with a thoughtful expression, before changing the subject. "You said that you would have to leave for a meeting later this afternoon. But your message did not say what the meeting is about."

"Oh," I said dumbly. "It's about Harry Potter. He and his friends want to form a sort of Anti-Voldemort group. We will be learning defensive spells, so that we can be prepared for an attack."

"Harry Potter? As in the Harry that you read about in your books?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," I replied. "He is in my year. I got to know him a bit in deten-" I trailed off, not wanting to tell him about my punishment.

"In what?" he said, demanding an answer.

"Detention…" I mumbled, waiting for the smack that was sure to come.

"Do you think it wise to get yourself kicked out of this wizarding school? The whole plan could have been jeopardized because of your childish behavior." he said, delivering a quick blow to the back of my head.

"One detention won't get me expelled," I argued. "Plus, it helped me earn respect from the wizards against Voldemort!"

"Well, at least some good came of it," he replied, returning to his usual calm demeanor. "So, where and when is this meeting to take place?"

"Some pub called the Hog's Head," I replied. "We are to meet there at five, an hour before we head back to the school. Why?"

"I think that I should attend this… meeting," he answered. "It would be beneficial for me to know more about this Defense Group."

"That would be smart," I agreed, "but you need to hide your face. Someone might recognize you from the train station."

"Yes," he said, nodding his head. "It would also supply me with some protection from the sun."

He walked across the room and pulled a tattered red cloak from his bag. He drew his sharp nails across the fabric, shredding it into a scarf-like cloth.

"This should do," he announced. "At four, I believe we should make our way into the village. You should leave a few minutes before me, so we do not attract unwanted attention. I will head straight to the pub, while you browse the shops until the time of your meeting."

"Alright," I agreed.

I may have been a Prince, but Mr. Crepsley had much more experience in making plans. If I had objected to his plan in any way, we would have thought of a new one. But, his plan seemed solid enough, so I did not argue with it.

"Did you manage to fill the bottles while I was gone?" I asked, remembering why I was here.

"Yes," he said simply. "I visited my old friend, Jimmy Ovo a week or so ago. He was surprised to hear that you were still alive."

"That's right," I said, remembering the man. "Last time we visited him, I still wasn't drinking blood!"

"Sometimes, I almost forget that you were once more foolish than you are now," Mr. Crepsley said with a smirk, interrupting my trip down memory lane. "Let us exchange these bottles. I have news from the mountain that we need to discuss before you leave."

I pulled out the five empty bottles from my bag, which I traded for ten of the freshly filled ones –He was giving me extra bottles so that I would have enough blood to last me until winter.

When I had the bottles safely tucked away, I turned to Mr. Crepsley and asked, "So, what's this news you were talking about?"

"Well. It seems that Voldemort has been trying to wipe out the vampire population. There have been deaths, but no marks on any of the bodies of the dead vampires. Since wizards do no not know our history, they do not know that there is a difference between vampires and vampaneze. It has been reported that many vampaneze have been killed in the last month. Most of them are stumped; they do not understand why the wizards have been attacking them. They have called a cease-fire with us for the time being, quite like last time we warred. If we kept fighting, both sides will be exterminated. There have even been rumors about the possibility of a truce."

I gave the information a moment to sink in. A truce was an unexpected (but welcome) occurrence. But, knowing Steve, as soon as we turned our backs, he would stab them. My mind flashed back to that dreadful moment when he told me his greatest secret…

*flashback*

Vancha, Mr. Crepsley, and I were headed back to Vampire Mountain, but we had stopped to camp for the day. I was filling up our water containers, because there we were about to cross a stretch of land where water was scarce.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" a voice sounded from behind me.

I turned to the voice, where I saw Steve Leopard and Gannen Harst standing behind me. Steve smirked and threw something at me. I caught it instinctively and examined the item. It was a scarf. I sniffed it lightly, trying to figure out who it was for. Debbie.

I clutched the slightly charred cloth to my chest and asked angrily, "What did you do to her?"

Steve, smirk still on his face, said "Me? Nothing. I didn't touch her." He paused dramatically and added, "But, R.V. on the other hand…"

My anger got the better of me, and I lunged forward to attack the smirking half-vampaneze. He seemed surprised by the speed and anger I put into my attack. He raised his hands to block me, but he wasn't fast enough. I raked my nails down his face, leaving deep, bloody gouges. Gannen stepped in, making use of his full-blooded vampaneze strength, and pinned my arms behind my back. I twisted, trying to break his hold, but that caused my elbow to creak dangerously. I knew if I kept pulling that the pressure would break my arm, so I quit struggling and tried to think of a plan. Steve, on the other hand, was touching the wound on his face with bloody fingers. He seemed stunned, like he hadn't thought I could really hurt him. Gannen decided to bring him back to the real world.

"Steve," he said seriously. "I've got him trapped. Kill him now before he escapes."

"No," he replied firmly. "We didn't come here to kill him. Just to… deliver a message."

"Then get it over with. I can't hold him forever."

I looked back and forth between the two vampaneze. We had found out from Mark (the vampet Vancha tortured) that only the Vampaneze Lord could kill us. So why was Gannen telling Steve to kill me?

"Are you ready to send him sleepy-byes?" Steve asked, stepping closer to me.

"Yes," Gannen replied. "Just hurry and tell him, before someone notices that he is missing."

"Alright, alright," Steve replied, bending over to whisper in my ear.

*end flashback*

Finding out that your ex-best friend wants to kill you is no walk in the park. Finding out that your ex-best friend wants to kill you, and has a whole race of powerful monsters behind him is completely unnerving. Steve was the Lord of all Vampaneze, and wanted me and my clan dead. He wouldn't agree to a truce unless he thought he could use it to get to me and the other hunters. Well, I had a different idea. We could agree to the truce without having to deal with Steve. As long as the three hunters didn't interact with the vampaneze, a truce would benefit the whole clan. I discussed my plan with Mr. Crepsley until it was time for me to leave. I helped him wrap his makeshift scarf around his head, gave him a stiff hug, and ran to the road leading into Hogsmeade.

I hope that this chapter amused you, and help clear up any confusion about what happened before the story began. Darren needed to know that Steve was the Vampaneze Lord, so I decided to throw that flashback in.

Blood and Guts

-Rebarbative