Disclaimer: Odds boddikins! Collywobbles. Broo-haha. Heebee-jeebees. Cattywhompus! (must translated with an English-Poppycock dictionary)

A/N: Look! I told you that it wasn't over! I have still more to add to this torrent of a tale.

(hee hee… torrent) I shall reveal nothing as to what awaits our dears… but rest assured that it will be clear as crystal when this story is over. I would never have you go mad at guessing that! (Just everything else)

Crystal, I say!

Peace

-Sike

You Bloody Stupid Bastard!

Chapter 11: In his Absence

"Get him up!" Daniel barks.

Dark wizards and vampires move to obey, but only two of them are needed. Harry offers no resistance.

Daniel passes a hand through his hair in an aggravated gesture. That was not the death he had wished for the object of his loathing. An act of love and self-sacrifice? Ew. Where was the slow, miserable decent into the agonizing depths of oblivion? It was ruined! Completely botched! And all he had left to play with were the leftovers.

"That was quite the demonstration." Daniel picks Draco up by the wrist, holding him as far away as possible… like a piece of garbage. He tosses him over to his henchmen as if he were weightless. The men take turns hitting him in the face and chest, chuckling and shouting like drunkards.

Harry watches this scene impassively; his face is growing pale, his mouth has gone completely dry. His mind pounding into one desperate ideal…

This is a play, a farce! At any moment Draco will bounce to his feet and stupefy all of them. Severus must be aware of this… he can't die, that's insane! Impossible. He's going to come to and get his revenge on Daniel. There's nothing to worry about. This will all be a bad dream. In just a few minutes… yes, in a few minutes' time… a few minutes…

Severus's arms are being twisted in a way that makes even the slightest movement on his part result in unbearable pain. (Not to say that the torture from earlier was bearable. Not in the least.) Harry is swaying like a zombie. To Severus, he looks even further from the living than Draco.

Hmm… Now that's strange.

Severus's youngest friend, ally and (most recently) fellow vampire is dead. Before he even had the chance to live, to become fully aware of himself. He may even have come to his senses, given time, and seen the madness in loving Harry Potter. Instead, his comrade had leapt into death.

But this isn't troubling Severus… which is precisely the trouble. Where is the sadness? The depression? The stunned disbelief? He's standing in an emotional void. He is encased in glass that lets him see the world without feeling its effects. In his cool poise Severus turns to regard Harry, who is shaking with silent sobs.

When the game of violent overkill winds down Daniel seems a little happier, but also a little bored.

"Oh, just kill them. Make a bloody mess." He says in flat voice.

An eager wizard advances on Harry, a twisted blade materializing in his hand. He raises his arm, ready to slam the knife into the young man's chest—

"I must say, it's a bit shorter than I expected." A man's voice calls out lightly. He trots towards the murderous gathering.

Everyone has stopped to stare at him.

"The building, I mean…" he adds needlessly, "Yeah, somewhat shorter than I… anticipated…"

No one has moved. Except— it feels to Severus like the vampire twisting his left arm is beginning to tremble.

"Yes, it's me." The man says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.

He grins for no more than half a second. It isn't a gesture of cheer, but a display of his teeth… particularly those two sharp, extended incisors.

Vampires drop to their knees and bow their heads. Some of the more frantic ones are pulling at the wizards' robes, trying to get them to the ground as well. Those who are still standing look to Daniel for instructions. They have no sense of the significance of this moment.

Daniel understands perfectly.

"Mike." Daniel says solemnly, nodding his head.

"Obstreperous bastard." Mike replies, with equal solemnity.

"What are you doing here?" Daniel's voice is losing its self-important tone. "I thought you had written me off. That you didn't want anything to do with me?"

"Well I didn't…" Mike starts casually, "but then you went and abused the gift I gave you. It's been nagging at me for a while and then Boom! I find myself smack in the middle of your bloodling's dream. This is the most disgusting thing you've done yet. I can't believe how much of sadistic freak you are!"

The faces of the wizard-lackeys twist in confusion. The vampire that had seemed so strong in his cruelty is twisting in front of this average-looking man like a child being lectured.

"And you treated your bloodling so much better, did you?" Daniel wines.

"I. Did. Not. Make. You!" Mike can't believe Daniel is trying to make excuses. "I tried to help you. I got into that big twisted mess of yours. Stuff that I had avoided all my life. The mortal, the covenants, running from humans… all that ridiculous stuff they write about vampires."

"Well you-" Daniel tries to cut in.

"Shut the hell up!" Shouts Mike. "I am not going to stand for this! You turned three years of my life into an undead cliché! Do you have any idea how long it took for me to feel abnormal again?"

A vampire makes his way towards Mike, sliding on his knees. When he gets close enough, he reaches out and takes Mike's hand, bringing it to his forehead.

"Please, Mike…" He says, knowing better than to address him by the title that the worshippers normally used. It was much too long for the occasion, and besides… the vampire (who had been such before the existence of Hell) hated being worshipped. "I beg you… we did not know of this miserable cretin's origins. If we had, we would never have dreamed of--"

"Sure you wouldn't have. You're all far too petrified of angering me." Mike mutters bitterly.

"Thank you, thank you… We are eternally grateful. As penance, we would be overjoyed if you would allow us to dispose of the unworthy one."

Mike smirks at Daniel, who nearly pisses himself.

Mike is just about to tell his crazy fan-vamps to do nothing of the kind…

And then he spots Draco.

He walks over to the lifeless body, where a young man and another, older man kneel beside him. The only blood on him is someone else's; the result of some desperate kill. There are finger marks on his arms, from holding himself during the torture sessions. Mike can tell that this was done with magic; the sent of an ugly curse is still in the air. The bruises and cuts that are starting to show are post-mortem. If the torture didn't kill him, what did?

"He's gone…" Says the young man hoarsely, "he's really gone." The poor soul is rocking slightly in his distress, one hand petting the corpse before him. He pulls at Draco's shirt, opening it a bit wider.

There is a mark on Draco's chest, just below his neck, where a pendant might rest. Mike drops into a crouch, to see it better. It's a fresh cut. It runs down in a zigzag, only about an inch and a half long. The mark of the curse wizards use to kill each other…

"What gives you the right to break up love and friendships, Daniel? Do you think you're allowed because nobody gives a shit about you?" Mike's words are left to echo in the open air.

Shaking his head, he removes his handkerchief and wipes the blood from Draco's face and neck. When he finishes, he lays the spotless kerchief over the curse wound.

Mike stands, sighing heavily. To the vampires around him he says;

"I accept your form of penance."

A/N: I'm so excited, whee! The next twist is going to be so much fun! Yipee!

Ahem, on a more serious note:

Thank you so much! That's to everyone who has reviewed this story, or put it as an alert or favourite, or was simply kind enough to read it. The response has been so encouraging… I hope that I might at some point have another fic received even half as well as this one.

Merci! Dank! Arigato!

See you next chapter!

-Sike