Fire In The Blood: A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.
Plot: After thirteen years being missing, Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts. However, when he returns, the full ramifications of the changes he's gone through, as well as the name he now bears, it all makes everyone wish they'd never gone looking.
Author's Note: So, here's a familiar idea and trope that…well…ah, what the hell; why do I bother explaining anymore? Let's just get to it.
Don't like it? That's your problem, not mine.
In other words: don't like, don't read.
Recommended Reads: On the Delights of Drinking Blood and Yield to the Darkness by Quatermass, Twisted Fate and Shadow Phoenix by moonfeather58, Dakaath: Prince of Darkness by LT2000, Dracula Rising by ZenoNoKyuubi, Damaged Raven and Apex by JustBored21, Harry Potter and the Darkness Within by DaggersBloodPain, Occulta Proditione (HP) by HarryxTomR and Paraselenic by EmpyrealFantasy
Key Pairing: Dark/Evil Vampire Harmony
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: Son of the Devil
"The Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory!"
As the cheers for the blatantly-obvious fan favourite of Hogwarts filled the Great Hall, accompanied by an air of pure excitement for what the naming of this particular individual meant for Hogwarts as a whole, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, silently applauded himself for his Oscar-worthy acting performance as he stared at the Goblet of Fire with an almost-eager gleam in his shining blue eyes.
If things were about to go as he'd planned, ever since learning that Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, the old man knew that his plans for being recognised as the greatest sorcerer in history would be back on track.
Fire
At the same time, he'd be able to remind the object of his self-deluded, overly-manipulative desires what happened when you disobeyed the wishes of the only one who could help you. This would also teach said quarry what the consequences were, when you made the foolhardy decision that you were actually going to say no to Albus Dumbledore.
No-one said no to him – even if it was a figurative no and not a literal one, but still…
No-one denied Dumbledore!
He was Dumbledore, for Merlin's sake, the greatest thing since Merlin and before!
Well, the little rebel was about to learn that lesson the hard way.
Fire
As he faced the crowds once more, Dumbledore had to fight every urge not to laugh with jovial delight at the thought of what was about to happen, even as he declared to the eager-listening crowd of sheep and hero-worshippers. "Excellent: we now have our three Champions, but in the end, only one can be victorious. Only one can raise this chalice of champions…this vessel of victory…the Triwizard Cup!"
With a dramatic flourish, the prize for the Tournament was revealed, though as the gleaming trophy was revealed to the cheering crowds of people who would never be able to understand the old man's reasons for doing what he was doing – but, given his reputation, he knew they would all accept that it was for the Greater Good – a hush settled over the hall once again.
As Albus turned to the source of the hush, namely the sight of the Goblet of Fire mysteriously flaring up once again, the old man felt his wizened heart grow warm at the thought of how easy this had all been.
And now, it was all about to pay off.
However, to Dumbledore's ire, the Goblet of Fire didn't seem to be willing to play ball, as the Muggles would say.
Instead of just spitting out the parchment that Albus knew was going to be revealed from within the old, tatty piece of metal and glass, a sense of anger overcame the Headmaster as he saw the Goblet having a hissy-fit, spewing geysers of flame around the entire Hall. In the process of trying to refuse the will of the man who thought of himself as God, many of Dumbledore's students ducked in fear while others questioned what was happening, each one of them looking back even as the Goblet's flames turned red once more.
Then, with a powerful explosion, which could have rivalled the eruption of Mount Vesuvius itself, a final geyser erupted from the goblet, depositing a scrap of parchment into the apparently-curious old man's hand.
Eyeing the parchment, the Headmaster had to fight to keep the glee out of his voice as he spoke the name written there;
"Harry Potter…"
As soon as he said the name, Dumbledore heard many different whispers and curious expressions being passed around, but as the old man turned to the crowd, he was disappointed to see nobody even trying to step forwards and face their true calling.
There was no sign of a brash, arrogant upstart who'd clearly thought he could defy the will of fate and stay as far away from Hogwarts as possible.
This couldn't be right!
Dumbledore had made sure Harry's name would be called out, even going as far as putting a strong Compulsion Charm on Alastor Moody – or, as he really knew him to be, but needed him there for the Greater Good, Bartemius Crouch Junior – to ensure the man did the deed himself, thus keeping Dumbledore's hands clean.
"Harry Potter?" repeated the old man, his query raising the volume on the suspicious whispers and curious expressions.
But still nobody answered and, even while the staff members of Hogwarts tried to deny what they were hearing, since they knew the same thing Dumbledore himself had been told years ago when he'd questioned this the first time, they heard students whispers turn into jeers and rumours.
However, all those were drowned out when Dumbledore, apparently having reached his limit, thundered for obedience from his quarry.
"HARRY POTTER!"
That was when another explosion rocked the Great Hall.
When it did so, the very foundations of Hogwarts seemed to tremble beneath the feet of the assembled bodies. At the same time, the Goblet of Fire's flames reignited themselves, as though a fifth name was about to be unleashed and announced before, to the shock of everyone watching, the flames turned a dark, hell-born shade of gold tinged with black that made it look like a demon had suddenly been spawned from the unknown.
As Dumbledore turned to the Goblet, wondering how this could be happening, he was one of those who let out a cry of alarm the loudest when the Goblet exploded again, this time spewing out black shadows, like demonic trails from the very pit of Hell now unleashed on an unsuspecting world.
With a sound like the worst of wailing ghosts gathering en masse in the world's most-haunted house, the shadows flew around the room, forming what could only be described as a swirling vortex of blackness, which formed itself on the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.
At the heart of the swirling mass, however, was a symbol that, when they saw it, caused several people to gasp and whisper with horrified, alarmed expressions and questions nobody could answer on their lips.
As for Dumbledore, he could only stare in disbelief, horror, outrage and no small amount of bone-jarring, nerve-crippling, life-shortening terror when he saw how, above his head, forming at the heart of the vortex in a burst of the same black-and-gold fire that had erupted from the Goblet not a minute ago, was a large triangular-shape with a circle and vertical line running through the centre.
As everyone stared at the symbol with varying emotions – many of them recognising it as the calling card of the defeated wizard, Grindelwald, while others looked on in abject curiosity – more gasps of alarm and horror rose up when a third, tumultuous explosion shook the Great Hall, the sheer force of the blast so powerful that it shattered the windows, while the ensuing shockwave sent chairs and benches flying.
The overwhelming fury of the blast was so powerful that it even caused the gemstones within the house point hourglasses to crumble into piles of red, green, yellow and blue dust before, with a sound like a bolt of lightning striking the earth, a single burst of black-and-gold fire hit the ground right where Dumbledore had been standing before the blast had sent him flying too, crashing hard into the podium where the Goblet stood.
While many students cried out in alarm and one or two staff members raced forwards to check on their fallen leader, Dumbledore could only stare in abject horror, disbelief and even awe – though he'd never admit it, since he was the most-powerful wizard in the world, as everyone knew – at what had been left in the spot where the flames struck the earth.
From within the elementally-charged bolt that had hit the ground, a tall, handsome-looking man with pale skin and hair that was blacker than black atop his head rose up, his form and moving so silken and well-practiced, he might as well have been made of water. His body was dressed in a suit of fine-looking clothes as well as a long, black-and-gold-coloured duster, which he wore around him in a style similar to the infamously-billowing black robes of a certain Potions Master, whom was one of the few who stared in disbelief.
Around the young man's pale, slender neck, he wore an expensive-looking pendant made from intertwined gold and silver, with a medallion that was gold on one side and silver on the other.
However, through the centre of the medallion was a clear, perfectly-cut emerald, which shone and pulsed with magic, the likes of which no-one in Hogwarts, not even the Durmstrang delegates, had seen before.
As the strange man rose up, a few of the observers gasped and backed away when they realised he wasn't alone.
There, its hackles raised and fangs bared in a roar of challenge and protective instinct towards the pale, handsome ghost of a man next to it, was a very fierce-looking leopard-like creature that everyone recognised, primarily given the fact it was recognised as being one of the most-dangerous creatures in that room right now, if not the world.
However, the young man seemed unfazed by the presence of the beast, the Nundu, at his side and, instead of showing fear, he just shushed the snarls of the fierce beast before he whispered to the creature like it was nothing more than his faithful pet.
"Calm yourself, Mina; they can no more harm me than they can try to claim any superiority over me or my kin."
While the Nundu seemed temporarily appeased by her master's sibilant whispers and his shushing wishes, the young man looked towards the face of Albus Dumbledore, revealing a pair of emerald-green eyes that actually looked at the old man from within black sclera-filled eyes, emphasising the terror factor he gave off as he growled darkly, "Now, before I change my mind and let my girl feed to her heart's content, why doesn't somebody tell me what they think they're doing invoking Binding Magic on the son and heir of Count Dracula?"
What had been gasps of disbelief now turned into screams of terror with the revelation of the name, but the young man didn't seem fazed by this.
Instead, he walked forwards and, without a hint of fear in his expression or his actions, he easily picked up the still-flaming Goblet in one hand, eyeing it suspiciously before, looking down, he hissed icily, "Albus…Percival…Wulfric…Brian…Dumbledore!"
A clap of thunder seemed to follow the young man's words, while his voice had grown steadily-darker and more-unrestrained in his ire as he snarled at the Headmaster, "You senile old fool! Do you have any idea what you have done?"
Judging by the shocked look on Dumbledore's face, it was clear he didn't!
Nor did he care, though only Albus knew that.
As the young man set the Goblet down again, he took a breath before, turning to the Great Hall's whispering, curiously-murmuring and questioning occupants, he drew himself to his full height as he roared, "SILENCE!"
His roar, much like the magic that had just spawned him and delivered him into the hall, sent everyone into a silence, the likes of which teachers, parents and librarians the world over would have killed for, but the young man wasn't done.
Instead, he scoffed in abject disbelief before he groaned audibly as he asked, "By the Dark Ones, do you humans ever do anything but scream like a bunch of cheesy American movie blondes? Don't you realise that, if I honestly wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have let my magic be drawn here like your so-called great leader wanted me to be?"
"Are…" asked Minerva McGonagall, finding what courage she had after the magical display she'd just witnessed as she made her way forwards, while Dumbledore was now being tended to by Filius and Severus – the latter of whom also looked to the young man with paralysing fear in his otherwise-darkened eyes – before the Deputy politely cleared her throat as she asked, "Excuse me?"
Turning to her, the young man cocked his head to one side before Minerva asked, "Are you…are you saying that you are…Harry Potter?"
"I am," replied the man, earning more surprised gasps and disbelieving expressions from the spectators in the Hall, before he cleared his throat as he added, "Or rather, I was: in truth, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, I haven't been Harry Potter for going on ten years now, not since the day I was Blood-Anointed…sorry…I mean adopted, as you would probably call it, and, as a result of my adoption, I was subsequently transformed into the boy now known as Harrison Thanatos Dracula, son and heir of His Dark Imperial Majesty, Count Vladimir Dracula, King of the Vampires, Lord of Darkness, Master of Death…"
His eyes flicked to Dumbledore as he said this part, earning an enraged, but also alarmed look from said old man, while the other man, Harrison Dracula – formerly, apparently, known as Harry Potter – went on, "…and someone who is very pissed off already at the thought of someone taking his prized son from him as easily as any human!"
Dead silence gripped the Great Hall as Harry, or Harrison as he'd named himself, looked around the hall before he sighed deeply as he licked his lips before he spoke again, his voice rich with power and no small amount of mocking curiosity as he spoke to the speechless crowds;
"Now, who does a Prince of Darkness have to kill to get a decent seat, an explanation and a good meal around here?"
So, the adventure begins and…HOLY SHIT! Harry Potter has become…is now the Son of…of Dracula!
How the hell did this happen and, now the Son of the Son of the Devil has come back, what is he going to do?
More-importantly, will he be able to avoid falling into the trap set by a delusional old fool, even though he's basically, not to mention willingly, stuck his head into the dragon's jaws?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Guess what? They wanted him back and yet, as quickly as they want him back, now they want him gone: such a shame that a few familiar faces have other opinions on their minds, including, but not limited to the Prince of Darkness himself;
Please Read and Review…