Disclaimer: Insert some witty sentence that somehow enables you to know I do not, in fact own Harry Potter.
A/N: Look! I'm Alive... or my computer is more like. Poor ol' thing.
Anyhoot, here is the long awaited Order meeting. A whole entire chapter deticated to it! And I'm sorry you all had to wait sooo long for it :( Blame my lack of computer smarts. I have to thank my beta Steve2, he helped so much with this chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!! You make my day!
A note from Steve2
It's not too often that a beta is able to interject themselves into the story. And this is no exception. I am not about to take over a story or a scene. Instead, I am simply going to explain why this chapter was so late. No, it had nothing to do with those aurora borealis plasma lightshows happening in the great white north. It didn't even have anything to do with the continuing unrest in south central Los Angeles. It had everything to do with a nasty bug that took out a computer. A bug that had many eyes I'm sure. It was huge. Ferocious. With little fangs that dripped venom. It flew up the back of a certain writer's computer and attacked the hard drive with gusto – the rotten little blighter. The computer fought back as best it could with some sparks aimed at the fiend, but to no avail. And that…
Steve?
Yeah, Bitter?
It was a virus. Not a literal bug.
…oh. Um… and on with the chapter!
Chapter 14 - A Dead End?
Harry slouched down on an old musty looking couch in Number 12 Grimmauld Place staring at the crackling fire in front of him.
The trip here was uneventful and ripe with that godforsaken awkward silence that seemed to be happening around him a lot lately. Portkey travel was something that was convenient but man, he hated it as much as he hated flooing (and he'd only done that a grand total of twice in his life). Fortunately, he'd learned how to create a portkey during his clandestine study efforts by the end of his sixth year.
Once he got inside the decrepit manor (after smacking the horrible old painting that kept insulting him – which didn't shut her up, but was a good way to hit something and relieve some of his surly tension), he promptly ignored the other people that brought him here (and who were still following him and walking on eggshells around him as if he'd suddenly go off and hit them like he had the painting), he found a study with a fireplace and sat down.
Ron, Hermione, Neville and Professor McGonagall had escorted him to the dumpy old house in the middle of god knows where and mostly stayed nearby. His professor had moved to another part of the house, but his supposed "friends" stayed in the room not saying much of anything.
To say that Harry was simply on edge was like saying a coffee addict without his java juice for several days was only a little testy. Harry tried to calm himself (for the 23rd time) but his mind was in overdrive. He was going to have to do something that he hadn't done for… well… he couldn't really ever doing it in front of strangers. He was going to have to talk about himself in front of strangers. Or mostly strangers. As is, the only two people that knew anything of substance about him was Morgan and Mac. And it had taken years to gain trust on both sides before anyone said anything of substance. And now these a-holes wanted him to simply open up about his life?! Well SCREW that!
"Um… Harry?"
Harry looked to the timid voice and noticed Hermione looking back at him. "Yeah?"
"Um… we have a pretty good idea of what is going on so if you need a sympathetic ear, I'm willing to listen."
What? "Listen to what?" Harry was confused. What did she actually want from him?!
"Well, we know what it was like in Professor Lupin's youth to be a werewolf, and if you wanted to tell us what it was like for you, we're willing to help however we can," she replied diplomatically.
Okay, that's it! That's the last straw! Harry's gaze intensified, and not in a good way for Hermione. Or for Neville or Ron who were also in the room. "You want to know what it was like? Think you can handle it? Fine, I'll tell you. You won't like it, but I'll tell you. First, let's start with a little history. Think back to third year DADA. Do you know why vampires and werewolves hate each other so much?"
Hermione instantly said, "They've been natural enemies for centuries according to Professor Lupin. I always thought it was a feud that got out of hand that no one corrected, but the real reason for their animosity isn't known."
"Wrong. I know. You have to understand the differences between vamps and werewolves. Both vampirism and lycanthropy begin the same way – it is an infection brought on by a chemical reaction found in saliva that induces a magical response in the infected victim. It is one of the few ways in which muggles can become magical. The core difference between the two is that in one you die and the other you live. Now keeping that in mind, what benefits do werewolves get?"
"Heightened senses," Ron chimed in.
"You're able to heal faster," Neville added.
"Improved strength," Hermione said.
"Ron hit it first. Heightened senses. Especially smell. They smell. Now think to their diet. What do they eat?"
"Meat," Neville said bluntly.
"Yes. And what do vampires smell like? Don't know? They smell like carrion. They're dead. They smell like rotting meat. Werewolves are aware of this and don't like it. Now, here's another twist in this sordid story. The cycle of life gives us birth, living, death. Vampires are post-death. Werewolves are still-living. They are bound by the rules and trappings of life. Vampires are not. Vamps are enemies to werewolves as they are non-living. It has nothing to do with a feud or some he-said, she-said drama. It has everything to do with life. Werewolves for all their bad karma are bound by the forces of life to attack and eliminate the forces of non-life. They are essentially Nature's foot soldiers against entropy. They strive to keep a balance.
"Now, knowing all this, let's get back to little old me. I was seven years old when some stinkin' vamp tried to turn me. He bit me and sucked some blood, infecting me. He could have drained me and left the husk for cremation but he didn't. He wanted a child vamp for some perverted reason. So he took about half of my fluids and pushed me away. What's wrong, Granger, don't like the detail? I haven't' even started yet. I staggered back to the orphanage, back to my bed. I was there for days until I woke up during the day.
"I remember being too damn afraid to leave that orphanage for weeks after that until one night I sensed something odd. Unusual. I went exploring and found a vamp waiting for me, ready to kill. I later learned that it was an old executioner sent to make sure the new vamp knew the rules of the game, or to eliminate them. Only, he expected to find a turned child, not something else. And rules being rules, since I wasn't turned, it was time for him to kill me.
"Only he didn't kill me obviously. And it wasn't that I was a great fighter then. Nope. Let's face it; I was still a child who didn't know what was going on at all. Hell, I didn't even know about the magical world yet. What got that old executioner was a crossbow bolt through his black heart, shot by a Slayer hiding in the shadows. As the vamp crumbled to dust, I started running.
"A week later, I felt that familiar sensation and started moving again. The vamp still found me. And as before, he got a wooden bolt for his troubles and he dusted out. It took a little time for my stupidity to give way to sensibility but when it did, I realized I was being used as bait to lure other vamp hunters. So while you three were playing tag with friends, and attending parties, I was forced to witness over 35 different vamp slayings all the while thinking it was the last day I would live before the vamp killed me.
"I stayed at the orphanage for awhile before finally leaving and moving on. I never met the Slayer who'd used me as bait, but sometimes I'd get an unexpected gift of cash when I was hungry, or a message to head to a certain motel that had a reservation for me. That's when my magic first started to show and I started to grow up and learn about the world. I didn't stay in England this entire time, either. I moved around. And some of the evil I've faced wasn't focused on vamps. There are a lot of ugly people in the world who want to prey on young kids.
"Now fast forward to age 11. I get a letter from Hogwarts. I find out about the wizarding world. I find out I have a bank account, which I tell you, would have been good to know years earlier. I hated eating out of dumpsters. Still, it makes moving around during the non-school year that much easier. At age 10 I started fighting back as best I could. At age 11 with cash in hand, I started taking lessons from combat instructors on how to fight. No one was ever going to get me again.
"This is when I started finding out what improvements I had. I'll be blunt, Longbottom, I'm stronger than a full grown male. I'm probably even on par with a werewolf or vampire. Maybe even a nudge up from them all things considered these days since I'm still working on improving my overall muscle tone. And as is, death seems to atrophy muscles on vamps."
Neville's eyes tried to focus on something and failed. He asked, "If death makes them weaker, then why are they so strong? That's a contradiction."
Harry didn't miss a beat. "The nerves go first. Without the nerves to tell you not to do something, you can do more, but you end up paying for it. That's why they need the blood. Not only do they suck out a person's life force to sustain their magical being, they suck out the blood to replenish their body as best they can. Eventually it stops working which is why you don't see vamps over 1000 years old. I'm not even sure there are any over 500 years old. They just dust out. No vamp lives forever.
"Now I got a magical boost thanks to the vampiristic nature of the curse, but I have no idea how much. How do I know I got some? Easy. I was able to do wandless magic at age 8. Want to know how? Do you want me to go into detail on what it's like to kill a vamp? I'll even start with my first kill. That's when the wandless ability first came in to play."
"Absolutely not," Hermione declined with conviction. "They are still creatures and deserve our compassion more than our animosity."
Harry looked at her strangely. "Have you heard a single word of my story? What don't you understand? They are already dead. They are the smarter cousins of inferii, who are themselves only a step up from a mummy. Do you shed tears over killing a fly or a spider? You should, they are alive. If you don't, then why shed tears over stinking vamps?"
"But they are still thinking members of society," she replied.
Harry laughed at this. "You've got to be kidding me. I've got news for you, lady. To them, you're nothing more than a walking bloodshake. You want to go have a conversation with them, you go right ahead and when I next see you, I'll make it quick so you don't infect anyone else. There's a reason they are not employed by the ministry: they are unable to slake their desire for fresh blood. And humans are easily accessible. They have their own laws, own society. They are not bound by our rules."
Hermione wasn't totally convinced. "But surely there must be some good vampires out there."
Harry's voice went flat. "The only good vamp is a dead vamp."
"Have you ever encountered anyone else like you?" Ron said.
Harry shrugged. "I've heard stories of other day-walkers but I haven't met any yet. My situation is different. Day-walkers were muggles that didn't turn so they combat the vamps as they can using muggle weapons. I'm the only wizard that I've heard of that didn't turn. That makes me much more dangerous. I'm learning plenty of spells to combat vamps this year. Last year was defensive spell casting. This year is offensive. Pretty soon, I'll be ready."
"Ready for what?" Hermione queried.
Harry looked her dead in the eyes. "Ready to do some vamp genocide. That is what they are afraid of in me: that I'm going to take them out. Which is exactly what I'm going to do."
"But, Harry," Hermione started, "genocide? Surely there must be a better way than that."
"Better than what? They're killing people as we speak. There aren't just 20 vamps running around this world of ours. They aren't just a novelty that, golly, gee whiz should be preserved. We're talking well in excess of 50,000 vamps that could use some good old fashion purging. Centuries ago there were supposedly vamp councils to keep their numbers in check which in turn kept the werewolves in check. One affected the numbers of the other. Apparently that went by the wayside at some point but the werewolves have yet to up their numbers to battle the vamps. So Nature must want a new weapon to combat this menace. And at this point, I'm more than happy to take this little call of nature to the vamps. They wanted a war, well, they've got one with me!"
"But Harry…"
"Hermione, Harry's right. Vampires are dark creatures."
"Just like Professor Lupin is a dark creature? Do you want to kill him too? These people didn't ask to become vampires you know."
"No, they didn't," Harry agreed. "But they're stuck with it nonetheless. And we're stuck with the aftereffects. Besides, how many people has Lupin killed?"
"What?" came her response.
"How many people has he killed? Because every vampire has killed at least one person to stay alive; they are all killers. Werewolves are not bound by any sort of killing code. They go into a frenzy around non-living creatures, but are not bound to kill anyone."
"But they do kill people," Ron pointed out.
"True, but they are not bound to do it to stay alive. Vampires are. Every single one is a murderer, and almost all of them are mass-murderers. So you think about that the next time you want to go say hello to a vamp and invite them over for a cup of tea. You don't like Voldemort because he's a dark lord. You want to kill him, right? So he'll quit killing, right? Vamps are the same as Voldie. The sooner you realize that, the better."
Harry's breathing was still pumping fast as he finished his impromptu history lesson. That had to be the most he'd spoken to anyone outside of Morgan in the past two years. He looked around the room. More people had come in that he hadn't sensed when he was talking with his peers.
He recognized the Weasley's straight away but they hadn't approached him yet. Thank Merlin for that!
He sat back down and focused on the fire, using its light and slight crackling and popping to calm his thoughts and slow his breathing. It wouldn't be good to bring on a migraine this early in the night. He twirled the plain silver ring on his middle finger as his thoughts calmed down to replaying his last fight with Katherine.
It was odd, Harry could watch the fire burn calmly and lose himself unthinking, unblinking and find himself relaxing. Even if it was only slightly. He'd been able to do this for years. It was one of the few relaxation methods he used. It probably didn't help that sometimes he had to burn the corpses of those who'd been bitten and drained, and were in danger of coming back as undead. When he had to burn them, he at least stayed long enough to ensure the job was done and offer a small prayer that they find a better life on the other side. And that he'd avenge them as best he could.
He blinked out of his daze when he felt someone approaching from behind, more specifically as Sirius approached him. Harry was pretty sure that Sirius had heard most of his diatribe.
Harry tensed up but stayed right where he was. He found that his heart rate was picking up again. Great, there goes that tiny little calm he had moments before.
Sirius came around to the front of the couch and sat down. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at him but he watched from the corner of his eye as Sirius put two short glasses down on the table in front of them.
He then pulled out a bottle of what looked like Fire whiskey. As far as Harry could tell it was. Sirius popped the top and continued to fill one glass. It wasn't until he was filling the second glass that he started speaking.
"Now I know it's not beer," he said softly, "but this is the next best thing." He set the bottle down and pushed a glass so it was sitting in front of Harry and picked up his own glass.
Harry turned his head and stared at the man sitting beside him. Sirius wasn't looking at him though he was staring at the fire absentmindedly swirling the liquid around in his glass.
Harry sat up and leaned over to grab the glass. He wasn't sure what he expected but this definitely wasn't it. He picked up the glass but didn't drink any. Resting his elbows on his knees, Harry stared down and the brownish liquid in the glass and waited. He didn't have to wait long; Sirius heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his long hair.
"Look Harry," he started, making Harry turn his head and look at him. Harry decided to keep his mouth shut and his face blank. A million thoughts were running through his head, some of them on pogo sticks (which hurt). One of the foremost things was: Why is he here?
He didn't let his confusion show but decided to hear the man out.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," he said not looking at Harry. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was sooner. And I'm sorry for what happened to you." Sirius finally broke his eyes away from the fire to look at him.
They sat there and looked at each other. Harry stared hard at his godfather, the truth shown painfully clear in the man's eyes. He was sorry. The silence dragged on and Harry could tell Sirius was getting a little nervous by his silence.
"You know," Harry said breaking the silence. "It's really not that big of a deal."
"Harry…"
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Harry cut him off. "Don't beat yourself up over something you can't change," he stated and took a sip from his own drink clenching his jaw as the whiskey burned his throat.
"That still doesn't change what happened to you," Sirius said. "Christ, Harry, you spent ten years running from vampires; how can you be so calm about that?"
Harry chuckled at Sirius' words.
"Look, Sirius," he said, humour in his voice. "That may be true. But before you go saying something like that, take a good hard look at yourself. You were wrongly imprisoned for twelve years and on the run for another what? Three years? You look pretty damn calm about that."
"I know that," Sirius snapped before taking a deep breath and another sip of his drink. "It's not something I'm happy about but it's also something I came to accept a long time ago…"
"Exactly," Harry said, leaning back and taking a drink.
Sirius shut his mouth with a click and looked at him for a minute.
"Alright," Sirius chuckled. Harry gave him a weird look. "I see your point. I didn't come over here to hound you for answers. I came over here to tell you I'm still here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, if you ever need a friend I'm here."
"You sure you want me to talk about anything? Hermione said that and look where it got her," Harry said.
Sirius chuckled, not realizing that Harry had been serious when he'd said it.
But for Harry, there was that word again. Friend. The most confusing, head scratching word he had ever come across. Harry frowned and was about to ask that never ending question when Sirius chuckled again.
"I remember a boy walking into my classroom willing to give me a chance, least I can do is give that boy the same chance."
Harry felt the warmth in those words and he smiled, he actually smiled. He took another drink and stared at the fire. Maybe things weren't as bad as he made them out to be. Sirius Black, his godfather, the one person that Harry opened up to… didn't care. Well maybe he did care but he was still here and willing to give him a chance. He briefly wondered if this was how Sirius felt when Harry approached him.
Harry licked his lips and looked back at Sirius, titling his head and stared at him. Now that he looked, he could see how tired the man actually looked. He had circles under his eyes and permanent crow's feet at the corner of his eyes. Sirius turned with his eyebrows raised when he realized Harry was staring at him.
"What?" he asked a small smiled playing at his lips. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No it's not that." Harry smirked at him. "I guess I'm just… curious."
"Curious about what?" Sirius replied frowning.
Harry shrugged. "You," he said bluntly.
Sirius' frown increased. "You know… you're not the first person to say that to me," he said nodding his head.
Harry cracked a smirk but didn't elaborate on the subject. They were dipped into silence once again. Sirius fidgeted a little but otherwise stayed silent.
They both realized that they didn't really know what to say to each other. Giving the circumstances, this wasn't exactly the time or the place for that matter.
"You know," Harry started looking around at his surroundings. "For the infamous Order of the Phoenix, your headquarters is a dump."
Sirius chuckled. "What? Expecting some elaborate mansion?" he asked with his eyebrows raised.
Harry just raised his own eyebrow in response. Maybe he was expecting something a little more elaborate and … cleaner.
"This is was my mother's house," Sirius said. His tone was sober. Harry felt a spike of guilt form. Oops. "The old hag," Sirius mumbled making Harry look at him.
"I'm the last Black heir so naturally all this," he waved his hand, "got left to me when she died. I heard her portrait yelling at you when you came in."
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Sirius with a small smirk.
"Nice place. I punched her in the jaw, not that it shut her up."
Sirius snorted. "Tried punching her myself the second day I was here. Oh yes, It was such a joy growing up here, nothing but happy memories." He mentally kicked himself. Here he was complaining about his lousy childhood when compared to Harry's, he really had nothing to complain about. He was about to open his mouth and apologize but Harry interrupted him.
"I swear to Merlin if I hear one more 'sorry' directed at me I'm going to have to kill somebody," he said with false cheer.
Sirius blinked owlishly at him before he let out a loud bark of laughter drawing the attention of some others that had arrived.
"Fair enough," he said simply taking another sip from his glass. While he was doing that he caught a glance at the time. "Hey, we should head in there now," he said looking at Harry almost apprehensively. "Albus should be here soon," he added for good measure.
Harry sighed and downed the last of his drink.
Sirius stood up and Harry stood up with him. Might as well get this over with. Harry stretched his arms over his head and glanced at Sirius.
"Lead on," he stated making a motion with his hand.
"This way, kind sir. Oh, and Harry?"
A raised eyebrow was the only response he got.
"Once this meeting is done, you and me. We need to talk. Tonight."
They only had to walk across the room to the kitchen doorway. Sirius offered a supportive smile before he pushed open the door.
Inside were a lot of people Harry had never met before. Once the door had opened everyone in the room turned and stared. Or in the case of Snape: glared. Harry clenched his jaw and stared right back. There were too many strangers in the room for Harry's liking. Too many people that he just did not trust. He ignored the stares as best he could and sat down at the end of the table, the spot closest to the door.
Harry propped his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. Breathe, he told himself, just breathe. He was afraid to look up at the order members that were presently in the room, he could feel their stares and it was doing nothing for his already shattered calm.
With around twenty people in the room Harry was feeling a little out of place.
Scratch that, extremely out of place.
Harry sighed and dug into his pockets pulling out his pack of smokes and lighting one.
He leaned back letting his head rest on the back of the chair and looked up at the grungy ceiling. Everybody was being quite and shooting each other glances.
"I wonder when Professor Dumbledore is going to get here," Neville mused out loud from his spot two seats away from Harry.
Nobody answered him but Harry was wondering the same thing. How long was he going to have to wait here? He didn't like waiting. He took another long drag from his smoke and exhaled. He shut his eyes and rubbed his temple with his thumb, cigarette still planted between his two fingers.
He heard the door open again and felt the now familiar presence of the Headmaster enter the room. Harry still kept his eyes closed but it wasn't until he felt someone grab the smoke out from his fingers that he realized someone else had entered the room.
Green eyes snapped open. He knew who that was. His head shot down and he watched as Kelly Morgan unlatched the black bag from her shoulder and sat down tensely in the empty chair right across from him.
She looked him dead in the eye with a blank expression and took a drag from his cigarette. It took all his self control not to grin widely at the sight of her. Instead he kept his own face blank and stared right back at her.
"Dayshadow," she hissed, her face twisting into a glare.
Oh, so that's how she wanted to play it.
"Slayer," he hissed back matching the pure venom in her voice.
He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbow on the table once again. He twisted his wrist back and with his other hand started to slowly pull out his silver dagger.
-o0o-
Neville, along with everyone else in the room, stared wide eyed between the two.
He watched as Harry took out his dagger.
He watched as Morgan took out her dagger.
He flinched when Harry jammed his into the table and nearly had a heart attack when Morgan did the same thing. He wasn't the only one; he noticed the Hermione and Ron had both jumped at the noise.
He hoped that Sirius didn't mind the new scratches into the centuries-old table. It needed a new coat of varnish anyway.
Briefly, Neville wondered if this was some sort of challenge. Were the two challenging each other to a duel? He didn't know that the Slayer was going to be present for this meeting. He certainly didn't expect the Slayer to show Harry such hostility or for him to return it.
From the all-out steady glares they were pinning on each other, Neville anticipated some sort of fight to ensue. He gripped his wand and looked over at Dumbledore.
Most the other order members were fingering their own wands but the Headmaster was holding up a halting hand to stop anybody from stepping in. He was staring at Harry and Morgan with narrowed eyes and but Neville could see the worry and… curiosity? on his face.
Neville licked his lips and looked back at the duo.
Harry looked about ready to kill. His upper lip was curled and his eyebrows were impossibly pulled together. His eyes were shining in a way that Neville had never seen before. As they say, if looks could kill, Morgan would have dropped dead by now.
'Course, the Slayer's "look" was more intense than his Gran's, and that was saying something.
The same thing went for Harry though. For once Neville understood why this girl was the Slayer. She looked downright scary. The scariest thing about her right now though was the predatory smile she had on her face.
The silence dragged on. It was a suffocating silence. He was pretty sure that every one in room was holding their breath, Neville sure as hell was.
Nobody dared to move from where they were seated. A pin could have dropped onto the floor and the sound would have echoed through out the room.
But the silence was broken by the loud gurgle of Neville's stomach.
Neville's hand flew to his stomach cringing as the hollow feeling increased making his stomach clench and demand food. He looked up and noticed everyone was staring at him. He offered a weak laugh but he felt his face redden and grow warm.
He heard a snort of laughter and his eyes snapped back over to where Harry and Morgan were sitting.
While they were both still staring avidly at each other, he noticed that Harry wasn't glaring so harshly anymore and that Morgan was trying her hardest to hold in her laughter. He could see her lips twitching and it was obvious that her jaw was clenched shut. Neville felt his face redden even more as his stomach gave yet another petulant little whine.
That did it, Morgan burst out laughing. Neville chanced a glance at Harry and felt his embarrassment recede and his confusion spike when he saw a smug look fit its way onto his face. A purely superior look that was directed right at the Slayer.
Morgan let out a breath, still deeply amused at Neville's expense. She wiped at her watery eyes but froze mid- action as if just remembering something of the utmost importance.
Her eyes widened in horror.
Sucking in a gasp, she slowly brought her eyes to meet Harry's. Seeing the self-satisfied look he was sending her way, she cursed lowly under her breath.
Harry licked his lips and opened his mouth…
"You…" he started.
"Don't…" Morgan warned, through her shoulders sagged in acceptance even as she said it.
"Blinked," he smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, satisfied.
Morgan wrinkled her nose at him but had enough self control to not stick her tongue out at him.
The entire room was in a state of shocked silence. Neville himself couldn't do more then just stare back and forth between the two. Only the two Weasley twins managed to start grinning, realizing they had all just been "had."
"Well," Morgan said slowly, a small spark in her eye, "you screwed up." She dipped her head at Harry.
"Thanks for the reminder," he stated dryly.
"No problemo." Morgan smirked, happy with the thought that she would never let him live this one down.
They fell into a completive silence, either ignoring, or forgetting, the fact that they were the center of twenty-some odd stares.
Neville could feel Ron tapping his knee with his hand and glancing back and forth, like the rest of the room. But if there was one thing Neville know about Ron was that….
"You know each other?!" Ron finally burst… he had no patience.
Harry looked over at him and blinked slowly.
"I would have thought that much was obvious," he deadpanned earning a wide grin from Morgan
"But you," Ron pointed at Morgan. "You said you didn't know who the Dayshadow was," he accused.
"I never said that. You didn't ask me who he was, just what he was." She smiled to herself, it was clear she was proud of the fact.
A slow grin appeared on Harry's face as he stared at Morgan. She didn't look all that different from the last time he had seen her. Her hair was longer and a little darker. He noticed she had a new scar on her neck and briefly wondered how she got it. There was always something about her presence that made Harry more… what was the word? He hesitated to say relaxed but he knew it was true. For some reason he wasn't so stiff and wound up with her around. Her hyperactive, carefree attitude rubbed off on him somewhat. Harry found himself staring at the large yellowish bruise forming on her cheek and smirked.
"Hey Morgan?" he asked making sure to keep his face questioning.
"Hmm?" Morgan's head whipped around and she looked back at him.
Harry took a deep breath. "You got a little something… right here" he stated brushing a finger across his own cheek.
She blinked once at him before scowling.
"Cute, Ray, real cute," she drawled at him while she gently rubbed her knuckles across the bruise.
Harry smirked widely at her. She was touchy when it came to bruises. Bruises meant that someone got a lucky shot at her and that meant that Harry got to rub it in her face. Plus it was fun to push her buttons. But deciding now wasn't the time to get her all fired up he went a different route.
"What happened?" he said, the teasing note gone from his voice and replaced with a curious note.
"I should be asking you that," she replied.
Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You don't want to know," he said shaking his head.
"What's the stats?" he finally asked opening his eyes.
Harry didn't care if they were in a room full of people. People that were still staring at the both of them but Harry couldn't care less at the moment. Morgan was here.
Morgan leaned back and licked her lips before answering.
"It's getting worse," she conceded. "I'm killin' at least fifty of these suckers every night and they just keep coming back. It's like I dust one and two more take its place."
Harry breathed out. That was not good news.
"Clans?" he questioned.
"Gettin' restless" she replied. "None of the three houses in the area have made a move yet but it's only a matter of time."
Harry nodded his head again processing that information. It was surprisingly easy to fall back into old habits.
"How's things on your end?" she asked but the meaning rang true. How's things in the wizarding world?
"Hard to say," Harry shrugged. "Got the H3 siding with Voldemort. That's a fact. They're callin' every vamp in the world here. My cover is blown wide open and not to mention… The Crow."
"Creepy crow guy?"
Harry pinched his face and nodded his head knowingly, masking and ignoring the fear flip his stomach did.
"Oh don't tell me he's…."
"Oh yeah," Harry nodded his head with a sour expression on his face.
"Damn." Morgan shook her head and ran a hand through her loose locks. "Rumour has it they attacked in the broad daylight?"
"Yup"
"Do we know how?"
"Ah hem!"
Harry and Morgan started and both looked over at the same time.
Professor McGonagall had her lips pursed into a thin white line as she was staring disapprovingly at them. Dumbledore was merely looking at them with those damned twinkling eyes of his and the rest of the Order openly stared at them in shock or confusion.
"Oh right," Morgan blinked. "Top secret Order meeting in session. Gotcha," she clucked her tongue and made an A-Ok sigh with her fingers before falling silent.
There was silence for a moment as some stared at Morgan with surprise. Minerva huffed and her nostrils flared but she otherwise stayed silent.
"Right," Dumbledore started clapping his hands. "Thank you all for coming today." he addressed the room at large. "As you all know there was an attack on Hogsmeade yesterday afternoon. But it was not a death eater attack, it was a vampire attack." He paused and let the information sink in for those who were not at the school yesterday. Though everyone had a vague notion of what had happened.
"I think it is with thanks we owe young Mr. Potter here for minimizing the damage that was done."
Oh that's just what he needed, more recognition.
Harry scowled at the Headmaster. "Thanks for the help with that by the way," he said before he could stop himself. He found he didn't regret it either.
"So it's true then?" someone asked him, completely bypassing and tossing away the guilt card that Harry had pulled out. "You're really this Dayshadow person?" it was a Weasley that said it. It wasn't until now that Harry realized just how many Weasleys there were. Harry's nostrils flared at the nickname but before he could voice what he thought about it Dumbledore cut in.
"Ah," he said. "I believe introductions are in order."
Harry sighed and waited for the headmaster to continue on.
The man stood from his seat at the head of the table. "You all might remember Miss Morgan better known as the vampire Slayer." Several people nodded. Morgan paid them no heed as she reached across the table and yanked Harry's dagger out of the table and then continued to asses the blade's condition. Harry shook his head, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. If it was cuts and scratches she was looking for, she wasn't going to find any. He kept his weapons in tip top shape. It was one of the perks being a wizard and all.
No way was he going to let her find any. Not after the first and only time she made such a big deal about it. Not going to happen again.
"Now…" but Dumbledore was interrupted by the loud gurgle of someone's stomach.
Dumbledore paused and looked over at a very sheepish looking Neville.
"Sorry," he mumbled sinking into his seat.
Dumbledore chuckled easily and opened his mouth to once again continue but was once again interrupted by an even louder growl this time.
"Neville," Hermione cried, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"What? I didn't eat dinner," he said quietly and if possible, shrunk down lower in his seat.
"Honestly Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall stated making a sweeping motion with her wand. A second later a plate full of sandwiches was sitting in front of him.
Unsurprisingly, Ron was the first to grab a sandwich but Neville was much more reserved in his getting one. Harry stared at Neville with a small smile. This meeting seemed so unorganized.
"Now then," Dumbledore started again just as jovially as before. "As you all know…"
Brrrring brrring!
Half the members present jumped at the sound of a phone ringing. Harry couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.
"What the hell is that?!" shouted someone, that Harry didn't know, pulling out his wand.
Harry looked over at Morgan who was still gazing at Harry's knife, determined to find something wrong with the blade, unaware of the phone that was ringing loudly in her pocket.
Brrrring brrring!
The entire room's occupants were staring at her in bemusement. Her eyes were slightly crossed as the blade was only about two inches away from her face.
"Uhh… Morgan?" Harry asked loudly but she didn't hear him. Harry chewed his bottom lip before decided to take a different course of action.
"On your left!" he snapped.
That got her attention, Morgan whipped to the side, dagger poised just above her head at the ready. She froze, taken aback when she realized no one was there. Shoulders slumping slightly, she turned and scowled at Harry.
"Your phone's ringing," he said with shrug.
"Wh…" brrrring! "Oh!" she exclaimed, setting the knife down, to which Harry promptly took back, and reached into the pocket of her jacket. She pulled out the small silver phone and looking into the tiny glowing screen, perked up. Without another thought she flipped open the phone.
"What's up Big Mac?" she gushed into the phone.
Even with out his enhanced hearing Harry could hear very clearly what Mac thought of Morgan calling him 'Big Mac'.
"Okay, okay," Morgan sighed. "I get it."
There was a pause.
"What makes you think I'm with him?" Morgan questioned sweetly, absentmindedly curling a piece of her hair around her finger.
There was another pause.
"Well why don't you try his cell?" she questioned again all too sweetly.
Harry cocked an eyebrow at her. Did she just…?
"Alrighty…Kay, bye." she clicked the phone off and stuffed it back in her pocket. "Sorry 'bout that." she said to Professor Dumbledore blinking innocently.
"It's alright m'dear" Dumbledore conceded. "Now where was I?… ah. Now for most of you that don't already know…"
Brrring brrring!
Yup, she sure did…
"Oh for goodness sake!" McGonagall shouted.
Harry looked down at his jeans pocket just as Morgan burst out into renewed laughter. Harry snorted and stifled his own laughter as he fished out his phone.
"'scuse me" he said quietly. McGonagall had her arms crossed and she was tapping her foot on the ground and even Dumbledore looked mildly flustered.
Sirius, Harry noted, was watching the whole scene with a wide grin on his face. Hermione looked like she was trying to look disproving but was failing in the attempt.
Harry flipped open the phone knowing who it was going to be and grunted a brief "Hey."
There was a slight pause on the other end before Mac's voice became known.
"Don't tell me that's Morgan I hear in the background?!"
Harry grinned at Morgan. She seemed to have noticed because she stopped laughing so loudly and gave Harry a smug 'you wouldn't dare' look.
"Oh yeah," he said breaking out into a wide smile.
Morgan's eyes widened. "Traitor!" she hissed.
Mac growled on the other end of the phone. "That girl's got no discipline….never mind." He sighed. "Listen I wanted to…" But Harry tuned him out; now very aware of the severe glares he was getting from almost everyone in the room.
"uhh… Mac? I'm going to have to call you back," he said slowly.
"Your keeping me in the dark here kid. I don't like it," Mac warned into the phone.
"Yeah I know. I'll fill you in later when I've got the full score," Harry replied. Without waiting for an answer, he promptly snapped the phone shut and stuffed it back in his pocket.
Harry offered a small, slightly apologetic smile to Dumbledore before turning and glaring at Morgan again. She returned the stare just as equally.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Well…" he paused just to be sure there was going to be another interruption before continuing. "I have invited young Mr. Potter here because he is in fact what the vampires call 'the Dayshadow'."
There was some murmuring but by then everybody had already figured that out. Harry ignored the stares, content to continue his second staring contest with Morgan.
"Mr. Potter. Would you consent to answering some questions for us?" Dumbledore asked.
"That would be why I am here" Harry replied not bothering to look at the Headmaster. The side of Morgan's lips quirked but she stayed silent.
"How is it possible?" Ron blurted out.
Neville scowled at him and stomped on his foot form under the table. But he had to admit he was just as curious as the next person.
Harry was silent for a moment; he didn't even know how it was possible.
"Remember what I said earlier? You have to die from a vampire bite," Harry sighed finally breaking eye contact with Morgan and looked over at a red faced Ron. "To turn into a vampire. When somebody survives a vampire bite there are only a few short term side effects from it. Like…sensitivity to sunlight, loss of appetite, things like that. But it only lasts for a couple days at most. I guess mine were just a little more… permanent." He shrugged. It wasn't exactly an answer but it was the best one Harry had come up with over the years. Only now he was starting to think there was something more diabolical involved.
Edmund Crowfield. The vampire that bit him. A very powerful vampire and a member of the H3. Why did he want Harry specifically?
Harry was beginning to feel there was some deeper meaning in this.
"What can you tell us about the Hellsome Threesome?" said a man Harry had never met before. Harry looked at him questioningly.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt" he nodded. "I work as an Auror at the ministry," he introduced himself.
Harry nodded back at him. "The H3?"
What to tell? Should he tell them everything? Harry sighed trying to think how he could work this.
"The H3 is made up of three Vamps…" He started cautiously; there were nods from almost everybody in the room. Harry glanced at Morgan.
"I explained that part already," she offered.
"Okay…." Harry said slowly. "What else do you need to know?" Harry wondered as they had the basics. That should be enough. Right?
"What are they planning?" questioned another Weasley Harry had never met before.
Harry looked as the older man cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Charlie Weasley," He introduced himself. "These are my brothers, Bill, Percy and I'm sure you met Fred, George and Ron," he continued. "My mother, Molly, and my father, Arthur."
Harry frowned, they had seven kids.
The number rang in his head. Seven.
"You have seven kids Mrs. Weasley?" he bypassed the question that Charlie had asked him.
"Yes," Molly smiled.
"Why does it matter?" Ron said hotly, thinking Harry was taking a jab at his family.
Harry looked at Ron. He was, along with Fred and George, glaring challengingly at Harry.
"I didn't mean it like that." Harry rolled his eyes. "I just thought you should keep a close eye on Ginny."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron frowned.
"Wait, wait, wait. Your youngest is a girl?" Morgan cut in, eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.
"Yes," Arthur said questioningly, looking between the two.
"Your daughter, Mr. Weasley, will be more prone to vampire attacks. It's in her blood." Harry replied.
"It's true," Morgan nodded. "It's like she's wearing a big giant 'bite me' sign on her back."
Molly gasped and grabbed her heart. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"It's hard to explain. I just thought you should know vampires will be attracted to her. You have seven kids, all boys accept for your youngest. Don't ask me how, all I know is vampires like the taste of the blood. Especially on prime luckies," he shrugged, regretting ever bringing the issue up in the first place.
"Prime luckies?" Charlie tried to reason it out.
Lucky for him, Hermione was in the room and quickly deduced the meaning. "Prime numbers in regards to what I think Harry is saying are 1, 3, 5, and 7. And a prime lucky number would only be #7. Correct?"
"Correct. Prime luckies apparently have a little more mojo in them that is tasty to them like Captain Crunch is to me."
"Who's Captain Crunch?" Ron tried his hand at deciphering this clue.
Hermione didn't try to help him out on this one.
"Not to mention, she's a witch," Morgan added not all that helpfully.
Harry shot her a look before turning to Dumbledore and changing the subject.
"This would go a lot faster if I knew what you knew, you know?" he said.
"Yes, quite." Dumbledore agreed. "Minerva?"
"I'll keep this brief." Minerva stated bringing the attention to her. "We know Voldemort has managed to sway vampires to his side. How? We do not know. But we do know he wants Hogwarts. He is planning an attack as we speak".
Blink.
Pause.
"What?"Harry stared hard at her.
They were planning on attacking Hogwarts!? Hogwarts?! A flippin' school!? More importantly, his school, his bloody home?! The one and only place that he ever called home. The only place they never bothered him?
Figures. Bunch of blood sucking jerks can't leave well enough alone.
"We don't have the details on this claim but we can assure you this is legitimate," McGonagall added.
"The wards around Hogwarts will prevent Tom and his followers from getting in but they will not prevent vampires from entering the building. We were hoping you could help us?" Dumbledore said gravely.
Neville's head shot over to look at the Headmaster. As well as most the occupants in the room. Dumbledore gave the tiniest shake of his head before turning his attention back to Harry.
Harry had noticed the small byplay that was happening around him but didn't think on it, his head was still buzzing with the words 'he's planning an attack as we speak'. He bit his lip trying in vain to get his mind to work. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the school was going to be attacked. He shook his head squeezed his eyes shut.
Rubbing the palm of his hand over his eye, a thought struck him.
"Hey Morgan," he asked looking back at her. "You said the clans haven't made a move yet right?"
"As far as I know, yeah," she replied.
"If the H3 are behind this..." Harry paused, rapping his fingers on the table. "That means only turned vamps are answering her call," Harry whispered with a thoughtful frown on his face as he stared off to the far wall.
Everyone was staring at him with equal confusion. Harry reached down and pulled out his wand from his ankle holster. He gave it a flick and conjured some stationary. He picked up the pencil and pulled the notebook closer. This only served to fuel the Orders confusion more. Harry glanced up to see that everyone was staring at him questioningly. He sighed.
"Basically you got two types of vampires…"
"What do you mean, two? All vampires are the same. Right?" Ron questioned, giving up on the Captain Crunch mystery.
"Ron?!" Hermione burst out appalled. "Didn't you read that book I gave you on vampires? Honestly. You find out vampires are going to attack the school and what do you do? Nothing that's what you do." Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.
Ron opened his mouth to make an angry retort. Ever since the two had started going out their fights had gone from bad to worse. They would fight drastically then make up, then fight and make up. It was a never-ending cycle and it was running poor Neville up the walls. Luckily Harry started talking before Ron could reply.
"Initially, yes Ron, all vampires are the same," he continued. "But there are two different… forms… so to speak. You got the born vamps and the turned vamps."
"Born again vamps? They find religion or something?" Sirius commented.
"As if," Morgan smirked at the comment. Who knew that one of these wizards actually had a sense of humor?
Harry concentrated on his notepad and started writing something. He glanced up when all was silent; everyone was still staring at him. He looked over at Morgan to see her staring at him with amusement. She held a look that said 'you got yourself into this mess, I'm just here for the ride'. He sighed.
"Born Vamps are just that, born. Not made or turned, they are 100 percent pure vampire. They get all the bells and whistles. They begin as children and grow as they age. These suckers are immune to just about everything. Crosses, holy water, you name it. They are magic in just about every sense of the word since magic is the only thing holding them together. They lose their magic connection and it's game over for them."
Morgan leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. She could tell Ray was going into 'lecture mode'. It was weird as she had heard this all before, knew these facts like the back of her hand and yet she couldn't help but listen again. When he talked about vampires and demons and whatever else lurked in the night, he talked like he was talking about school work. He made it sound so simple. It was something that she was never able to do.
"That is the one major difference between them and the turned vamps. They are born with power, whereas with the turned ones it takes age and experience. Crosses work on turned vamps because they don't have the magical ability to rebound the religious influence. Born vamps don't have that problem."
Harry stopped and looked and the notepad he was writing on. "That's not right," he mumbled before tearing the page out and crumpling it up. Tossing the wad of paper over his shoulder, he started writing all over again oblivious to the piercing stares he was getting.
"The H3 were all turned and they are extremely powerful. They've been at this game for centuries. They are the power block for turned vamps. And the way I see it, with the deal they made with Voldemort, they've only got turned vampires coming to their beck and call, young ones too by the looks of things. So you shouldn't have to worry about them all getting into the school. Hogwarts is still a home to many and turned vampires cant get in with out an invitation.
"Your wards still work on them for the most part, Headmaster, but it's the clans you should be worry about. Like I said before, those suckers are immune to almost everything. They can enter anywhere they please and not have to worry about… the uh consequences. Since they are magical in nature, most things magical don't affect them. Even a rampaging hippogriph won't hurt them too much. It might rip them around a little, but as long as someone is there to collect their arms and legs, a simple night of reattachment is all that's required to put them on the full mend. So here's a helpful little tip for the rest of you: when you encounter a vamp that's just a little bit harder to kill than normal, burn the body until nothing's left. Then transfigure it into water and get a priest, cleric, or rabbi to bless it. You can use it next time on both kinds of vamps – those acid baths are a blast."
Morgan tried to peek at whatever it was that Harry was writing but she couldn't get a glimpse. She had no clue what he was doing.
"There is only one way to stop a pure vamp from getting in and that's with this," he held up his notebook and flopped it down on the center of the table.
The sheet was blank except for what looked like a rough sketch of a pentagram in the center along with dozens of quickly scribbled calculations to the side. Looking closely Morgan could see clearly that it was indeed a pentagram but there was wording around the circle of it.
Latin maybe? She was just about to grab the paper when someone else beat her to it.
"What is it?" Hermione asked as she looked at it. Morgan scowled at the younger girl as she turned the paper over and around.
"'mortuus vita may non penetro hic,'" she read. Hermione frowned before looking over at Harry. "Is this… Harry what is this?"
Harry smirked at her. He tapped his pencil on the table and glanced at Morgan before answering her.
"That, Hermione, is a true vampire ward."
-o0o-
A small frown.
That twitch in those dark, delicate eyebrows was all Katherine needed so see.
"What's wrong?" she snapped.
It never took this long.
Edmund sat in a rich sultry leather chair. His long pale fingers gripped into the armrests, nails tearing into the leather. His head was bowed, black hair obscuring his face slightly.
At Katherine's voice his head jerked to the side a fraction. The movement was enough to wisp his hair to the side.
Katherine sat up. In one fluid, sleek motion she was on her feet. She stood overbearing, casting a wicked shadow down on Edmund.
With that one movement, that sudden change in the atmosphere, Etienne DeMarco tensed up from where he was leaning over by the fireplace. His knuckles curled, nails scraping the stone of the wall.
He stared unmoving at the fire.
That was Katherine's beauty, her allure. Her unpredictability and her viciousness coated her black heart with a lust that could drive any man to their knees.
"Answer me!" she hissed, voice shades darker, unleashing the demon within.
A flurry of wind whistled down the chimney. The frail orange flames flickered and trembled before dying out with a hiss.
The room dipped into that gorgeous darkness, the shadows stretched until only the slight glowing light from the hollow chimney was left untouched.
Katherine's ruby red lips pursed, her nostrils flaring dangerously. Her gleaming eyes cut through the dark void and stayed on the still form of Edmund.
"He's gone," he whispered breaking through the heavy silence.
"What?" It was a soft whisper. Deadly all on its own.
Edmund opened his eyes slowly. The animalistic gleam shinning, making it all the harder to focus on anything else.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was inside a Fidillus charm," the whisper was brought to life with anticipation and fervor.
It was no surprise when Katherine bowed her head and laughed. It started as that deep chuckle in the back of her throat before she brought her head up, smiling widely permitting that quiet laugh to rise.
When it died, leaving the air rich with shivers, she licked her lips and stared hard at Edmund for a moment. Running her tongue elegantly across her fanged tooth, she blinked leisurely, resting her eyes on the last occupant of the room.
"Etienne, honey?" she turned just as he turned. With one smooth step forward, she reached out and grasped the back of his neck with one delicate hand and pulled him closer. She ran her thumb across his cheek before effortlessly running her hand forward and down to the middle of his broad chest. She looked at his eyes, her own eyes gleaming in the darkness and smiled.
"I think it's time we sent him a little message."
-o0o-
Hermione looked straight at Harry, her eyes wide.
There was a pause in the air as everyone in the room comprehended what Harry had just dumped on them. But of course, the silence was broken by one, very loud, Vampire Slayer.
"What?!" Morgan squawked, practically jumping out of her seat. She reached over and snatched the paper right out of Hermione's hands.
There was a tense silence that filled the air. Morgan took one hard, albeit squinty eyed, look at the pentagram.
"I've seen this before," she murmured. She bit her lip, her eyes widened and she smacked her hand down on the table. "Oh!" She snapped her fingers for good measure and, setting the notebook back on the table, leaned down and picked up her own worn out, black, patched up book bag.
Harry was staring at her with raised eyebrows, having long since given up on trying to understand the girl. He waited it out. Cringing a little as he heard the tearing of paper, Harry shook his head and turned his attention to the others in the room.
Hermione had his sketch back in her hands with Neville and Ron looking at it over her shoulder.
"It's not tested." Harry said, nodding towards the paper. "I've been working on for the past year…"
"You made this yourself?!" Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.
Harry shrugged, unperturbed by her outburst. "Independent study," was all he said to explain it.
"I'm not sure I understand these equations," Hermione muttered.
"Not surprising. I found a couple in some very obscure books in the restricted section of the library. A couple others I had to break out into individual components and then swipe only the pieces I need and then rewrap them into new equations. Took a while to figure out how to do that, but I'm pretty sure the results are going to be worth it."
"What results are you looking for?" Bill Weasley asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder.
"A good night's sleep during the summer months would be nice."
Neville narrowed his eyes and sucked in a breath, no doubt about to say something but was, predictably, interrupted.
"Ah ha!" Morgan cried, popping back into view. There was a horrendous noise of a piece of paper being torn and ripped.
She produced, not a slip of ragged paper, like Harry was expecting, but a worn out leather bound book.
She continued to fiddle with the delicate looking book. She undid the leather strap holding the book shut and flopped it to the side, the proceeded to flip the pages in a half hazard way. It was enough to make Hermione cringe and fidget on the spot. It was only the fact that they were sitting amidst a group of her elders that she refrained from scolding the inconsiderate girl.
It was a book for God's sake! Honestly, couldn't she even show the least amount of respect for a piece of literature?
"Here," Morgan finally conceded, stopping her frantic turning of pages abruptly.
The relief that seeped out of Hermione was almost tangible.
Harry sat up a little straighter when Morgan turned the book around and pushed it across the table to him. The first thing he noticed was it was old, if the yellowed, cracked pages were anything to go by. Right when he was about to try and determine just how old the small book was, he diverted his attention to what exactly was on the page.
It was a pentagram.
Very similar to the one he had been working on for the past year. No, this one was still different. More complicated looking.
The lines were more intricate, more complex, they crossed over each other, swirled, connected, it put to shame Harry's own simple one.
He gently grasped the book in one hand and leaned in for a closer look.
While Harry had used Latin for his inscriptions, this one used something else. Harry frowned; he didn't know what language it was. Scandinavian maybe?
"Looks just like yours don'it?" quipped Morgan with a goofy grin.
Harry frowned, despite the smile that pulled at his lips. "Where did you find something like this?"
This… this was what Harry had been working on for the past year. A specific, definite way to protect oneself from vampires. Both kinds of the bastards. Sounded simple enough.
It wasn't.
The old saying; 'a lot simpler said then done' came to mind. Harry had spent the better part of his sixth year combing through texts on all kinds of wards. The best one that he had come across was the outdated Latin inscription wards. From there it was the not-so-easy task of getting the wording right, the symbols right, the equations right, and the application right to inscribe on the runes.
A year later, he finished it. Although he never had the chance to test it out yet, Harry was almost 100 sure the thing would work. Okay, never mind, make that 70. Could never be too sure when it came to vampires.
But here Morgan was, pulling out a book like it was nothing important. A book that had everything needed for the warding against the things that go bump in the night.
Worst part was… Harry couldn't read the bloody thing.
"I have my sources," Morgan cut in, answering Harry's question with unmistakable confidence and bravado.
Harry paused and looked hard at her. That unmistakable confidence and bravado in her voice was also that unmistakable sign that… she was hiding something. Harry leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew that look. Hell, he'd seen it the first time she used it when she had lorded it all over him.
"You broke into a coven again didn't you?" he smirked.
"That hurts Ray," Morgan gasped grabbing at her heart. "I'm shocked you would even think I would do something like… alright, fine, I broke into a coven," Morgan gave in when she noticed her plea was having no effect on him.
"…"
"To be fair," Morgan lifted a finger, cutting him off. "I had no idea what that was. I figured if it was sealed behind an 11-inch steel door, twenty feet underground, it had to be something important."
"Uh huh," Harry drawled, turning his attention back to the book in his hands. "So you figured it was something important and yet you never said anything about it?" Harry asked. While he wasn't all that curious about her reasoning, Morgan was a pack rat. Anything and everything she could get her hands on, she held on to.
"Well, it's not like we keep in touch on a regular basis. Besides I only got my hands on it this past summer. I leafed through it once, came to the conclusion, about five pages in, that I didn't have the ability to read it. Just remembered it now, when I saw yours," she paused, sweeping her eyes across the room.
The ward Harry had drawn up was being passed around the room, though most where more interested in their conversation at the moment.
After doing his own sweep of the room, Harry turned back to Morgan, eyebrow raised.
"Romania, four months ago. Doin' a small recon job for Big Mac. Turned into a nice long farewell tour," Morgan smirked, flashing her pearly whites.
Harry returned the smirk.
"Took out the entire clan by dawn," she smiled, looking wistful. "Had them running in the other direction just an hour in."
Harry snorted. "Well, you do have that effect on pretty much everyone you meet," he stated with serious conviction.
"And oh, how I love that effect," Morgan replied rolling her eyes heavenward.
What they both had failed to notice was the mildly pale faces their casual mention of killing vampires had created.
"mortuus vita may non penetro hic," a pink haired witch interrupted, bringing the focus back to the matter at hand, when she got the paper. "What's that mean?"
Harry scratched his chin and rubbed his hand over his face, forcing his attention back to the room at large
"Roughly… something like 'dead life may not enter here'," he replied swallowing a yawn that was itching at his lungs.
"Remarkable," McGonagall whispered as she too looked at the paper.
"You're going to want draw one of those on the far north, south, east and west corners of the castle. Tap it with your wand and say 'impiger' to activate them and bam instant vampire ward… well for now, give me a day to look over this beauty and I'll have something new." He carefully shut the leather bound book, not willing to let anyone else look at it.
A simple translation spell and he would be one his way.
Harry rubbed his hands over his face again. He felt exhausted. The day had been way too long for his liking. Heaving a deep sigh he pulled out another smoke. One of which Morgan snatched once he had it pulled out.
He stared at his empty fingers for a second before pulling out another one with a small huff. He lit it throwing a glare over at Morgan and she returned the look with a bright smile. Harry shook his head fondly at her.
"Bit of a contradiction isn't it? 'Dead life,'" Hermione broke the silence. Harry chose not to answer her question and decided it would be better to point out what Morgan said earlier.
"It only works on the pure vamps and like Morgan pointed out, the clans haven't made a move yet. Better safe than sorry right?"
"What deal did Voldemort make?" a gruff voice cut in.
Harry looked over and recognized Mad eye Moody. The real one.
"That's right," encouraged Dumbledore. "You mentioned a deal was made."
"Hey," cut in Morgan "Yeah, how are these suckers walking around in the day?"
"What was that thing you did with your hands yesterday?" Neville asked right after Morgan.
After that more questions were being thrown his way and soon the whole room was arguing and talking loudly. Harry scratched his head looking more then a little lost. He looked and Morgan and seen she was pulled into a conversation, if one could call it that, with one of the Weasley boys. Neville, Ron and Hermione were all yelling at each other. Professor Dumbledore was trying to calm his heads of houses.
Harry licked his lips and caught Sirius' eye. The man was perfectly content to stay quiet in the ruckus. Harry shook his head, feeling more then a little knackered at the moment and rested his head in his hands. Deciding he would just wait till this whole thing blew over.
He didn't have to wait long. It seemed Dumbledore had finally had enough too.
"Silence!" he yelled standing up from his chair. "Now since it seems we cannot hold a civilized conversation, shall I dismiss this meeting and continue this tomorrow?"
The effect of his words sent everybody sinking into their seats. With the exception of Harry who was looking at the Headmaster with a smile. He wished he could shut everybody up in an instant like that. He was going to have to try that out some day. He looked over at Morgan and couldn't help but snort at her face. She openly gawking at Dumbledore, her lips parted and her eyebrows raised.
"Do you think we can continue this without any more incongruous interruptions?" Dumbledore continued.
There were nods all around as everyone in the room looked thoroughly abashed. Harry's spirits lifted, something about seeing everyone put back into place just made him giddy. That, and dusting a vamp did the same thing.
"Now then," the headmaster stated bringing back his cheery attitude. "As you were about to say, Mr. Potter, about this deal that was struck?"
Harry blinked. Oh yeah, he forgot were he was there for a minute.
"I don't know the details. The only information I have is what I was able to get yesterday," Harry said frowning. He couldn't keep it a secret, not when the school was in danger. As much as he hated it, he had to accept that there were other people involved.
"Were you able to find out how the were walking around in the middle of the day then?" Morgan asked again.
Harry licked his lips and slowly nodded his head. "That was part of the deal".
Harry glanced over at Snape. He was sitting on one side of the Headmaster, black cloak wrapped tightly around his upper body. Harry stared hard at him for a minute debating with himself. Snape was the spy, he could very well know about the potion already and just end up feeding him a bunch of bull if he did hand the potion over. He looked him dead in the eye and continued to stare. After a moment Snape looked back at him and returned the stare.
The sat in silence, each assessing the other until finally Harry spoke up.
"Can I ask you something?" he said in a neutral voice.
Snape held still for a second before he tipped his head ever so lightly downwards in his consent.
"Can I trust you?"
The effect of his words had taken Snape back. Harry could tell. The man all but froze up even if it was hardly noticeable.
Everyone else in the room stayed quite, waiting for what sort of answer the Potions Master would give.
Harry kept eye contact with him and waited for an answer. He knew if he asked out of the blue like he did it was easier to tell if the man was going to lie. This was the tricky part.
But instead of answering out loud like Harry was expecting, Snape did something that Harry least expected. He felt something brushing the inside of his mind but before he could snap his senses shut, he heard Snape say something.
"You ask me this inside a room full of people?"
Harry's ears perked up. Deciding to see this through he kept his senses open.
"That's right" he replied.
"And why do you ask?"
"You're going about this all wrong. I asked if I could trust you, not the other way around."
There was a pause.
"If it is trust you are looking for go to that mutt that calls you his godson."
"Ah but I'm not looking for that kind trust," Harry replied with a mental smirk.
"So you I see."
Ooohh he's good….
"I need to know you won't hold any information away from me. I could go to someone else but you are the best after all."
Flattery – go for flattery.
He sensed Snape send him a questioning look.
"Whatever it is you want, what is it that I would get out of it?"
Urgg Slytherins.
"I'm sure we can work something out."
"My, my, that is very Slytherin of you, Potter"
Instead of taking that as an insult, or a compliment (whichever way you looked at it) Harry chose to take that for what it was… An agreement.
He blinked and looked away. What a weird feeling, though he couldn't disagree that it was whole hell of a lot less barbaric then what he felt from Katherine. Harry held back a shudder as he stood up.
He ignored the curious glances that were going back and forth between himself and Snape and dug into his jeans pocket. No one was going to dare speak out of turn, not after getting yelled at by Dumbledore.
Harry found what he was looking for and pulled out that skinny vile.
He walked up along the long table until he was standing just behind Professor McGonagall and across from Snape. He reached across and set the murky yellow potion delicately on the table. Harry looked at Snape just in time to catch his reaction.
The man was staring at the vile with something akin to hunger shining out of his eyes.
"It's a potion," Minerva stated blankly.
"I don't know what the hell is in it, but it has one helluva sun block agent," Harry replied watching as the potions professor reached forward and grabbed the vile off the table.
By his reaction, Harry could tell Snape had never seen the potion before and that sent a minor wave of relief down his spine.
"Severus?" Dumbledore questioned.
"I've never heard of something like this before. Not even whispers about it from the other Death Eaters." He looked up at Harry and back at the potion.
"My guess is Voldemort holds that special ingredient that the H3 want," Harry started, moving back and slumping into his seat. "So the way I see it, the H3 agreed to attack the school for him if he gave them whatever it was that is needed for that." He jerked his head towards the yellow potion.
"Well if that's true then why did they attack Hogsmeade? Just to show that they could? I mean why not wait until whenever it is that they are going to attack and surprise everybody?" Hermione asked, frowning at the table top.
Harry hung his head. Great, that's just great. Now he gets to point out that it was all because of him that those vampires were there in the first place. It was because of him that those people were dead and injured.
"Probably just to show that they could," Morgan stated confidently. She was leaning back in her seat, with her feet propped up on the table. The notebook that Harry had conjured was sitting in her lap and she was drawing something on it. If Harry had a guess, she was most likely copying the ward that Harry had drawn.
Morgan wasn't stupid though. She knew why the vampires were there in the first place. Sending a look to Harry she cleared her throat.
"Vampires are like that. They like to show off, doesn't matter if it ends up getting them killed. They're always trying to show what kind of power they have over humans."
Harry shook his head. The excuse was plausible, but it still didn't change the fact that…
"That doesn't make sense," Mad-eye shook his head. "The H3 were there. Something tells me those vampires aren't too keen on letting the world know just how powerful they are."
"They were there for me," Harry said loud enough to cut Morgan off from whatever she was going to say. "It was a set up and I fell for it."
He looked up at Moody in a challenging way, daring him to say something. Moody took one look at him and safely aborted whatever it was that he was going to say next.
There was silence for a moment.
"Well," the Headmaster stated. "I think will conclude this meeting for tonight. As always keep your eyes and ears open for anything." With that said he stood up along with his deputy Headmistress.
The room slowly emptied and Harry was grateful Sirius was still sitting beside him. Harry was waiting for everybody to leave before he headed out himself. Sirius sat waiting too and glaring at everybody who were even thinking about approaching his godson.
Harry appreciated the gesture all the same.
-o0o-
"Weird kid," Tonks observed. She was standing by Neville and throwing on her cloak as she got ready to leave.
"He's not so bad," Neville replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He avoided Tonks' gaze and instead watched as Molly Weasley gave her son a hug and a kiss on the cheek before making her way outside with the rest of the Weasley clan.
He could feel Tonks staring at him but couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. He didn't know why but he felt small all of the sudden.
This war had just gotten a whole lot bigger and for the one person the was prophesised to kill the greatest Dark Lord of all time…Neville snorted, how corny did that sound?
But in all actuality, he felt like he really couldn't do it. Christ, he was only one person. One single person wouldn't be able to take down a powerful wizard like Voldemort.
And what was his secret power? Love? Neville scoffed. Love didn't cut it in Neville's books. What could love do? Could it kill somebody? Like fall to the ground dead kill somebody? Neville didn't think so. He was staring to doubt this so called 'power he knows not'.
"It's odd you know?" Neville came back down to earth when he heard Tonks. He looked at her realizing she was still standing beside him.
"Pardon?" he asked.
Tonks smiled. "You and Harry. It's odd."
Neville frowned. "What's odd?" What was she talking about?
"Oh come on Neville," Tonks laughed. "Use that brilliant noggin of yours." She reached out and rapped him on the head with her knuckles.
Neville slapped her hand away and glared at her which in turn forced her to sigh heavily.
"I don't know, I just find it odd," she shrugged.
Neville groaned. "What's odd already?" he was losing his patience.
"Think about it Neville. Boy- Who- Lived," she pointed at him. "The Dayshadow," she pointed over to Harry, who was making his way out of the kitchen. "By all counts, you both shouldn't even be alive. Now tell me that isn't odd."
Neville opened his mouth but paused when he realized that she was right. That was odd. But as odd as it was, Neville couldn't help but think of how Harry had a way cooler nickname than him. Come on, he would take the name 'Dayshadow' over 'The Boy- Who- Lived' any day. Think about it, how demeaning does 'boy- who- lived' sound anyway?
"Well I better be on my way," Tonks said reaching forward and ruffling his hair. When Neville didn't react she chuckled and turned making her way towards the exit.
Neville blinked slowly. He seen Ron and Hermione making their way towards him and it dawned on him that Tonks was already almost at the door.
"Oh! See you Tonks!" he called.
Tonks spun around and smiled. She gave him a brief wave before turning and… walked right into the closed door.
"Ouch," He heard her mumble, rubbing her nose. Neville grinned in amusement watching as she slowly (albeit cautiously) pulled the door open and disappeared behind it.
Turning, he met the eyes of Ron and Hermione. He smiled at his friends but the warm smile slipped off his lips when he looked past Hermione's shoulder.
The only thought that came to his mind was a very sentimental and heart felt 'uh oh'.
He saw Sirius walking out of the kitchen and just a few feet behind him was Harry. Okay, nothing out of the ordinary with that and it wasn't that particular scene that Neville was worried about.
It was the grinning Slayer that was slinking up behind Harry that had alarmed Neville.
-o0o-
Phew! Hope you guys liked it :)
To be fair, I didnt want to end the chapter here, but I think it was already starting to drag on a little bit and this looked like a good spot to stop ;)
Some of you have been wondering about what the heck the H3 are planning. While there have been small hints and clues dropped every now and again, I will give you a little something right now.
So, for those of who never cought it... Heres something to think about for a second... Go back and read the name of the Orphanage Harry was left at. Ring any bells? (it can be found at the beginning of chapter 10 ;))
(grins) and Please review!
Oh! and as a completely irrelevent note... Today is my Birthday! Woop! Went on a big shopping spree and spent waaay too much money!