Fire In The Blood
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
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: Harmony
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
A10riddick: Trust me, you won't have to wait long;
As he went to leave the room, however, Sirius stopped and turned back before, smiling slyly, he added one last message to the mix;
"It's such a shame I wound up in Azkaban thirteen years ago, isn't it, Albus? Maybe then, this wouldn't have happened…"
Chapter 3: Wait Until My Father Hears About This!
With his liquid hunger now sated, and once he was sure his newest pet was safely back in Gryffindor Tower, Harrison cleaned himself up and, changing into a short, darkest-blue jacket and dark-coloured, denim jeans, he made his way back to Hogwarts for the other part of his breakfast.
Unlike the night before, Eric didn't accompany him, but when he reached the doors of the school, Harrison was amused to find Remus waiting.
Greeting his lupine ally, Harrison cleared his throat before he asked, "You ready for this?"
"Of course," replied Remus, indicating the doors as though insisting his Alpha take the lead; as Harrison did so, Remus cleared his throat before he asked, "Forgive me for being so intrusive, Alpha, but was it my imagination or did a first-year student of this school come past me not too long ago?"
"Yes, he did, but, before you say anything, he offered himself to me without needing hypnosis," replied Harrison, licking his lips before he chuckled as he added, "He also wished to serve me, so I gave him what he wanted. But don't worry, Remus; I didn't turn him…yet."
"I know," agreed Remus, passing through the large doors with his prince by his side while, upon seeing a few students making their own way into the Great Hall, the werewolf lowered his voice as he added, "I was just curious, my lord. Anything else you did is your business…would you like me to keep a close eye on him for you?"
"No," answered Harrison, hiding a smile as he saw many students edging away from him as he walked towards the doors into the Great Hall, "His blood is in me and mine is in him, so I'll know if anything goes wrong. In the meantime, my thirst is quenched, but I could eat a Hippogriff, so shall we go and break our fast?"
While Remus scoffed in response, he accompanied Harrison into the Great Hall where, to the young vampire's bewilderment, he found a fifth table had been set up close to the High Table.
It was covered by a blood-red tablecloth and even had a high-backed chair as well as several smaller chairs set for guests and others. "Your work?"
Shrugging ruefully, Remus smiled softly as he admitted, "I might have paid Minerva a visit and recommended it to her, if only to put her mind at rest about you snacking on her students. Of course, anyone who wishes to join you…in any way…would, I assume, be welcome to?"
"Naturally," agreed Harrison, making his way to the fifth table before, settling a hand on the chair, he scowled, "Remus, I sense magic on this thing: check it…and dispel it!"
To the bewilderment of the students, and the worry of a certain old fool, Remus drew his wand before, flicking it once in the direction of the chair, he watched as the chair shone with darkest-red light.
Whispering a few incantations, Remus watched as the light shattered, like a pane of glass had been smashed, before he brushed down the seat and arms of the chair.
"It's safe, Prince Dracula," explained Remus, earning a snort of amusement from Harrison as he took a seat.
As he did so, however, the vampire prince lifted his voice before he addressed the hall, "You're already skating on the thinnest of thin ice with me, Hogwarts, so whoever decided it was a good idea to put enchantments on here, I'd watch your step…because the ice is starting to crack and, trust me, you won't like what happens when you sink into the abyss!"
While Harrison rested his arms on the arms of the chair, looking every inch like the prince he was, Remus looked up just in time to see a flash of anger and fear cross Dumbledore's face. Minerva, meanwhile, was looking up and down the table with suspicion and horror while, to the werewolf's amusement, Filius looked as angry as Harrison himself at the idea of someone performing such a ballsy move on the Prince of Vampires and in the presence of their other honoured guests. Severus, on the other hand, actually looked like he was sweating buckets, which suggested he'd either known about the enchantments or he was the one to cast them.
As Harrison indicated for Remus to join him, earning a curt nod from the werewolf as he did so, the green-eyed Lycanthrope hid another smile when he heard a voice he remembered from the year before. "Um…excuse me? Professor Lupin?"
"I'm not your professor anymore, Miss Granger," replied Remus, though as he did so, he missed the interested glint that suddenly filled Harrison's eyes as he looked up to see the fourth-year Gryffindor girl standing next to the former Defence Professor. "Now, how can we help you?"
"I…I was just wondering if…if I might join you?" asked Hermione Granger nervously, earning a small smile from Remus.
Before the werewolf could answer, however, Harrison lifted his head from where he'd been brooding on his thoughts as he told her, "Of course you can, Miss Granger; in fact, why don't you come and sit here on my right-hand side? Call it a personal thanks for being only the second student to be brave enough to introduce yourself to me."
While Hermione blushed in response to the young vampire's words, she muttered a rather-hasty thanks before she took a seat next to Harrison, with Remus sitting on the left-hand side of the prince.
Once she was seated, Harrison cleared his throat before he asked, "Now, what do you usually enjoy for breakfast?"
"Um…scrambled eggs?" asked Hermione.
The words were no sooner out of her mouth before a bowl of the freshest-looking scrambled eggs appeared in front of her, complete with a few slices of toast for dipping or to help turn the eggs into a sandwich.
Harrison, meanwhile, looked to his own empty plate before he mused, "You know? I quite fancy some eggs too…poached, on rye bread, lightly-buttered, thank you."
With a soft pop, two freshly-poached eggs, almost perfectly-prepared in such a way that suggested whatever magic was responsible knew for whom the meal was being given to, appeared in front of him, as well as two pieces of rye bread and, to Harrison's amusement, a light sprinkling of pepper over the top.
"A meal fit for a king…well, prince," remarked Harrison, tucking into the food before, as he lifted it to his mouth, he sniffed once as he added, "And no trace of anything untoward in them too…bonus. So…"
As he munched on his egg, Harrison lightly dabbed at his lips before, swallowing his breakfast, he asked, "Tell me a little bit about yourself, Miss Granger; what's your story?"
"Oh…well, I…I doubt it's anywhere as nearly as interesting as yours, I'm sure…um…Prince Dracula, sir…" said Hermione, accidentally spilling some scrambled eggs down her front in her nervousness.
However, to her shock, as the mess went to splatter onto her clothes, Harrison moved his hand, sending the mess flying back into the bowl while he chuckled dryly as he said, "Slow down and don't be so nervous, Miss Granger; such precious foodstuff should not be spilt so carelessly."
When he saw the blush rising up Hermione's cheeks, Harrison hid his smile as he now knew the strange dream he'd experienced earlier that morning was the same one she'd had.
'Interesting again,' thought the vampire prince, tucking into another bite of his breakfast before he asked, "Well? Indulge me, anyway…and before you do, I might as well ask: would you mind if I called you Hermione?"
"N-n-no," replied Hermione nervously, though as she did so, she looked up once when she noticed something else that was off. "Um…no offence meant, Your Highness, but…do…do you realise everyone in this hall is staring at us right now?"
"They might as well take a picture, it'll last longer," drawled Harrison, laying down his knife and fork before, looking up from his meal, he added, "If I were you lot, I'd put my eyes back on my food…unless you'd rather be food!"
"Harrison, there's no need for…" Dumbledore began, but, as he seemed to enjoy doing by now, Harrison cut him off.
"It's Prince Dracula to you, old man, and, trust me, if this wasn't such hallowed ground for all magic and magical beings, I wouldn't have bothered with the threat, but what can I say?"
Looking up once more, Harrison let his power trickle out just enough to make his voice snarl like the monster within, "I do hate to waste perfectly good magic on something as trivial as a bloodbath!"
"You swore!" exclaimed Minerva suddenly, earning a cold laugh from Harrison.
"Technically, it was my Captain of the Guard who swore," argued Harrison, rising from his chair before he turned to face the High Table as he asked, "But why should I honour my word when you and yours would sooner cage me like an animal, cast unknown, binding and, probably, even obedience-driving spells and enchantments on my possessions and think you can now hold some form of authority over me when you're about as superior to me as an ant is to a boot?"
While the staff looked alarmed, if not troubled, especially the old coot and his supposedly-redeemed Death Eater subordinate, at that moment, Harrison rolled his eyes while Remus suddenly growled when they both heard rushed footsteps moving towards the doors.
"And…speaking of ants…this should be fun," drawled Harrison before, seconds later, the doors to the Great Hall were blown open.
From the other side, a small procession of robed witches and wizards stormed into the hall, led by an absurd-looking duo: one of them was a wretch of a human being dressed in a stupid-looking pinstripe suit and bowler hat. However, it was the person next to him who looked even more-absurd than him: she was a vile, disgusting creature of a woman – and Harrison used the term very loosely – dressed in a way-too-bright pink cardigan and with a sickly-sweet smile on her face that turned into a scowl of disgust when she saw Harrison and Remus standing at the end of the hall.
Before either figure could speak, however, Harrison lifted a hand before he asked, "Minister Cornelius Fudge…are you sure you want to do what I already know you're thinking of doing? Choose your words carefully and, Madam Umbridge, is it? Before you start clearing your throat, you should probably save that for when I clog up your airways with your own blood!"
Suddenly, every figure in the procession stopped dead; as Fudge opened and closed his mouth like the world's stupidest goldfish, Harrison looked to the third figure leading the procession towards him. A blond-haired man with a look of sheer horror and rage on his face, his bluish-grey eyes filled with the same emotion while, just by looking at him, Harrison could sense the Dark Magic taint within and, despite whatever claims he might have made, the taint was as rich as a mine of platinum.
Hiding the amusement he felt as he wondered how long it'd take him to rile up this pretender who clearly served another pretender, Harrison asked in as polite and formal a voice as he could, "Ah, and judging by your hair colour and taste in company, I assume you would be Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Yes, my vassal…sorry, I should say, my godfather speaks very highly of you…as does my Father who, as I understand it, was always a welcome guest in Abraxas' time…and in Jean-Pierre's too."
While many people began whispering among themselves, Harrison saw Lucius Malfoy turn as white as his hair as he stared down the vampire prince, for reasons that Harrison knew had everything to do with what he'd just revealed to the masses.
As far as Mr Prim and Proper knew, no-one, but him and his wife knew the name of Lucius' grandfather or why he was exiled from Britain shortly after Lucius' father, Abraxas', birth, much less why he'd become persona non grata with the Malfoys right up until the reports of his death back in Lucius' first year as a Hogwarts student.
As Lucius floundered like a fish on dry land, however, another member of the procession couldn't help but speak her mind.
"Hem…"
Before Umbridge could finish her annoying habit, however, she gasped, as did the rest of the hall, when her body suddenly flew into the air, turning her nauseatingly-annoying clearing of the throat into a shrill scream that could have rivalled a certain redheaded matriarch.
At the same time, Harrison sighed deeply before he asked, "Now, you can't say I didn't give her fair warning, so you have a choice, Minister: take your toad, your snivelling wretch of a Death Eater and your sheep and get the fuck out of my sight or, in my Father's name, I swear, I will paint the walls of Hogwarts with your entrails!"
Even Umbridge's screams fell silent as Harrison's threat earned him a dead silence from the hall, leaving Harrison the only one who could break such a silence. "What?"
Looking around, the vampire prince scratched the back of his head before he gasped suddenly as he asked, "Oh…I'm sorry; were you expecting me to toe the line, submit to the noble power of the brilliant British Ministry of Magic and come along quietly? Sorry, humans, but I assure you: any who try to take me anywhere I don't choose to go will find themselves a few pints of blood…and, quite possibly, a few limbs…lighter, and that's only if I'm feeling generous."
"Aurors, arrest…"
Before Umbridge could finish, however, Harrison sighed deeply, a note of mocking regret in his words before, to the horror of the students, he snapped his fingers, causing Umbridge's flailing legs to snap clean off, spraying blood and gore all over the walls, as well as several students below, many of whom suddenly vomited and screamed themselves, while the vile witch screamed in agonising levels of pain.
As the legs dropped to the floor, leaving a puddle of blood where they lay, Harrison sniffed once before he drawled, "Anyone for frog's legs?"
"Stupefy!" cried the Aurors, but before the spells had so much as managed to leave the wands of their bearers, more screams filled the air as hands were severed off, accompanied by a familiar sound like a silenced gunshot or a burst of wind.
When it was done, Harrison held ten different wands, as well as a fetching-looking cane, in his own bloodstained hands, as well as said hands of the wizards who wielded them, each of which he dumped onto the floor with a bored expression as he asked, "You know, I really didn't want to do this, but if you're going to force my hand, what choice do I have?"
"EXECUTE…"
As soon as Umbridge screeched out the word, however, her voice fell silent while more screams filled the air, this time from the assembled students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, as a loud, ear-splitting crash of thunder filled the air.
At the same time, the torches in the Great Hall were blown out by an almighty wind, plunging the room into near-darkness.
While this was going on, Harrison sighed softly before he whispered, "Now you're in trouble."
"What…what is this…" Fudge began, finally deciding to speak up.
However, before he could finish making things worse for himself than they already were, his eyes widened in horror while everyone else gasped in awe, shock, horror and disbelief as what could only be described as a large swarm of black bats flew into the Great Hall, circling the ceiling of the hall before, as one nest, they descended to where Harrison stood.
As the swarm took shape, those nearest to Harrison gasped with surprise when they saw the vampire prince fall to one knee in homage.
At the same time, Remus moved from his seat and followed suit, baring his throat in submission.
To the surprise of many of the students and staff, Professor Flitwick also bowed his head in homage while, to the shock of many of the Gryffindors, both Hermione and Nigel – who'd been pale enough watching his new master do his work on the stupid humans – also joined Harrison and Remus on their knees, even though one of them didn't know why she was kneeling.
All she knew was that it would be safer for her to do so, especially after earning the right to try and get to know the vampire prince.
As for the mass swarm, the rest of the students, the staff, as well as a white-faced Lucius Malfoy and Minister Fudge, could only watch in abject horror as the swarm took on a whole new form. A tall, proud-looking figure with sleek dark hair and eyes that were currently blacker-than-black in his eye sockets; the stranger was dressed in a regal set of red clothes, complete with black leather trousers and a pair of thick, black boots.
As he materialised into being, the man let out a growling sigh, revealing two pointed fangs, which shone in what little light filled the hall.
Once he was fully-corporeal, the dark-haired man glared at Fudge with his black eyes before, in a voice so bestial, it was almost demonic in nature, he snarled, "Cornelius Oswald Fudge…would you kindly tell me what you're doing letting your toad order the execution of my son and heir?"
"Y…You…you're…" stammered Fudge, unable to string so much as two words together while he stared at the dark man, trembling visibly in the throes of the power he displayed.
"Count Vladimir Dracula," growled the dark man, earning another chorus of gasps from the hall as he snarled, "King of the Vampires and Father to Harrison Dracula, your so-called Fourth Triwizard Champion!"
In the silence that followed, only one voice broke the silence.
And that voice was one that addressed the Count with a cold, pitiless emotion as its owner sighed regrettably before he addressed the King.
"I'm sorry you had to leave the Castle for such mundane affairs, Father…"
"No need for such unnecessary apologies, my son," replied the Count, gesturing once, which seemed to be the permission Harrison had been waiting on to rise, as Count Dracula kept his black eyes on the Minister. "You can't say you didn't warn them…and now, I am the one warning you!"
Here, he turned his eyes on Dumbledore, who looked so pale, he might as well have died where he stood, as the Count went on. "My son…is off-limits! The next time I am forced to come here, I come for blood!"
Then, with a loud crash of thunder and a flash of lightning, the whole hall was plunged into darkness, though when it lifted, Harrison was slightly disappointed to find all the hands, and legs, of those he'd dismembered had been restored, though now, even Umbridge was silenced in horror as she and her subordinates looked past the sickly-looking Minister to the Prince of Darkness in their midst.
As Harrison sighed in response to their looks, he looked back to Dumbledore before, shrugging once, he smiled pitifully.
"Like he said…can't say I didn't warn you that he was pissed off with what you'd done."
With that, he walked off, parting the crowd of petrified, horrified Aurors like he was parting the Red Sea.
As he reached the doors, however, Harrison couldn't resist one final jab;
"Just be thankful no-one's been impaled on flagpoles…yet!"
Fire
After the pretty intense, if not dramatic, reminder of what would happen if you found yourself on the wrong end of the Prince of Darkness, Harrison was amused and a little annoyed by the constant stream of owls that found their way to him, each one bearing Howlers or hidden traps he picked up long before their bearers even flew through the windows.
The one upside, if there were any to be had, was when one owl, a particularly-pretentious one named Hermes – according to Harrison's new friend, Hermione Granger – found himself flying straight down Mina's gullet when she pounced to protect her master, leaving the Nundu to belch smoke while Harrison rubbed her belly, easing some of the pain from the exploded Howler the owl had been carrying.
Curiously, about the same time, Nigel and Hermione told Harrison about a dissention in the ranks between certain redheads in the Lion's Den.
Still, suffice to say, no owls came near Harrison directly, but he still had to deal with the knowledge they were meant for him.
Fortunately, he was able to avoid them and paying attention to them by instead focusing on his thoughts for the future, if not the idea that, with each passing day, things were actually getting interesting at Hogwarts.
For once…
Fire
One big aid in Harrison's emotions was his previously-mentioned new friend, who seemed to take every opportunity she had to be close to him.
By day, while the girl learned her lessons, Harrison felt like he could sense her presence within his mind or even his black soul.
At mealtimes, Hermione, as well as Nigel – whom said girl soon figured out had become the first Hogwarts-chosen meal-slash-pet for Harrison and, surprisingly, she accepted it – would sit at the Vampire Prince's table and they would talk about everything from Hermione's story to Hogwarts life.
Whenever she asked about Harrison's upbringing, however, the Prince of Darkness smiled wolfishly before he leaned in and whispered, "Not yet, Miss Granger…there's one thing you have to do before you get that part of the story."
After the first time she asked, he'd always repeat the first part of the response, earning a pout he actually found cute from Hermione while, next to him, Remus – or, occasionally, Sirius or Eric – would snigger knowingly, recognising what their prince was doing.
At the end of the third mealtime he shared with said girl, however, Harrison found out for himself what it was that made him enjoy toying with Hermione's desire to know more as much as he did.
Fire
"You are finally sensing the Dark Connection with your intended, my son," said Count Dracula, looking at Harrison from the other side of an ornate full-length mirror that was used for communication between clans – or, in this instance, between the Vampire King and his Son and Heir.
As Harrison's eyes widened with surprise, he smiled when his Father let out a cold, dark laugh as he exclaimed, "Oh, but this is a magnificent event and, when all is said and done, I will be throwing you the party to end all parties to celebrate. But, as you know, you must make her want to be yours; dangle the meaty carrot in front of the Thestral, as it were, and drive her to distraction until she is willing enough to slit her own throat just to give you her blood…then, she will be yours!"
"I don't think I'll have to wait too long," argued Harrison, his eyes shining at the thought of what was happening, "Hermione's so eager to be near me, it's like she's never even known what we have. She's told me how she's always been a bit of a loner with hardly any friends in the school…well, actually that's not entirely true. She has one in her year and two others who keep an eye on her after their brother dared to try and lead her astray."
"Then you should bathe in this ignorant speck's blood for daring to do anything to your beloved, Harrison!" growled Dracula, his voice edged by a dark tone that caused the lights on his side to dim in their sockets, "Let her see what her honour means to you and then, if she resists, torture her further with the thought of being yours…you have been keeping up your Astral Projection lessons, I trust?"
"Of course, Father," answered Harrison, licking his lips hungrily while he laughed, "I tried entering her dreams just last night and, it's the strangest thing, but when I woke up this morning, I could taste her blood on my lips…and she is delicious! The most-scrumptious blood I've ever sampled and, I'm sorry to sound like a petulant Newborn, Father, but…I want more!"
"Of course you do," replied the Count, laughing warmly while he smiled at his son, "When you find your intended, you always feel that way. You want their blood to never run dry, their passion to never ease up and their submissiveness to be as eternal as the night itself…but then you drink, claim them and then, of course, Sire them and they become yours and the only thing you feel is love and the passion…and even the fact you will never again taste their blood does not matter. Not as long as they are there…until they're not."
Suddenly, Harrison's expression darkened slightly when he saw a lone tear roll down the Count's cheek.
Before he could stop himself, Harrison swallowed hard as he asked, "Thinking of Elizabeth again, Father?"
"Let's just say I am glad Stoker's fable is just that," drawled the Count, looking to Harrison with renewed warmth and dark pride as he continued in a clearer voice, "But enough of me: this is your time, Harrison, but remember…once this Tournament is done and, as you have found and, hopefully, will have claimed your beloved, never forget…"
"I have to keep my promise to take your throne and ascend to full Kingship of the Vampires, I remember," agreed Harrison, a note of pride in his voice as well as unease as he admitted, "I had hoped to wait until I turned eighteen before becoming king, but if Fate has other plans and my beloved is here, Father, then I'll keep my promise. Just please keep yours: when I become King, don't be in a rush to seek out the True Death."
"Of course not," argued Dracula, shaking his head while he smiled fondly as he explained, "I want to be able to live long enough to see my son and heir anoint his heir at the right time…and besides, I was never a fan of the True Death's Last Rite anyway, so don't you worry, Harrison: I am not going anywhere in a hurry."
While Harrison smiled, he took a breath before he added, "Well, I should be going now…places to go, intendeds to torture…human magi to pretend I'm keeping my promises to, you know how it is."
The Count's dark laughter echoed throughout Harrison's tent even as the mirror image became clouded with ghostly mists before he was gone.
Fire
The day after his talk with his Father, Harrison was a little surprised to find his pet, Nigel, running to the edge of his camp, a look of desperation and devotion on his face as he bowed before he explained, "Master, you've been summoned."
"By whom?" asked Harrison, running a hand through his dark hair while he looked to his disciple.
"The Ministry of Morons who think themselves your betters," answered the smaller boy, earning a soft smile from Harrison as he explained, "They say it's Tournament business and, although Mr Black's your liaison, they…they asked me to come and retrieve you. I'm sorry if this displeases you, Master…I really didn't want to disturb you…"
"You didn't," Harrison assured him, moving closer to his disciple before, smiling proudly, he added, "I knew all about the summons long before they sent you, Nigel: enhanced hearing and psychic gifts are part of the package, remember?"
As the young boy blanched, he looked up into his Master's eyes before he asked, "S-S-So…so you knew…even before I started speaking?"
"Yep."
As Nigel blushed, he smiled weakly as he lowered his head before he told Harrison, "I…I never would have guessed you…you were that powerful, Master; but…but I shouldn't be surprised. My blood is in you, and you said we'd be connected, so…so I can't hide anything from you."
"Can't?" asked Harrison, a note of mocking curiosity in his voice that turned into amusement when Nigel gasped.
"I…I mean won't!" exclaimed the first-year lion cub, earning a soft laugh from Harrison as he tousled the boy's hair.
While Nigel blushed again, Harrison smiled again before he added, "You've served me well, Nigel; continue to do so and you'll be made a vampire in no time…do really well and I might just sire you personally, which will make you as powerful as Eric and the Royal Guard!"
"Master…" gasped Nigel, but as he did so, his eyes widened when Harrison bit into his finger, just as he had done when Nigel first became his pet.
"In fact, as a reward for your loyalty, here…a little pick-me-up and a reminder of the power you'll get when you become one of us," said Harrison, earning another blush from his disciple before Nigel leaned in, wrapping his lips around his Master's finger, he sucked the blood offered to him.
As the wound healed, Harrison smiled before, indicating the castle, he added, "Now, my little one, take me to these insects."
"Yes Master."
Fire
As Harrison half-expected, by the time he joined Fleur Delacour, Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory in the meeting room, Sirius had already arrived, much to the displeasure of Albus Dumbledore.
He wasn't alone either: aside from the representatives of the other schools, there was also an elderly gentleman whom, as soon as Harrison saw him, gave the Vampire Prince a curt bow of his head.
"That's Garrick Ollivander," explained Sirius, standing proudly and with firm devotion by his prince while he explained about the man. "A master of his craft: he's here to assess the strength of your wand and as a witness to these events. Judging by the reaction he just gave you, sire, he seems to be more-neutral than any of these other mother…"
Before he could finish, Sirius coughed while Harrison growled darkly when a flash of light and a puff of smoke cut off the Black Lord's explanations.
From within the smoke, the ugliest woman Harrison had ever seen – well, second-ugliest after the pink toad – stepped forwards, her posture filled with an air of ego that made her instantly dislikeable to the young prince. She was accompanied by a seedy-looking individual with a camera and, as soon as he saw both figures, Harrison's eyes darkened when he figured out why it was he'd been summoned by these sycophantic arseholes.
"What a charismatic quartet," said the blonde woman, her voice as grating as her appearance as she stepped forwards before, shaking each Champion's hand as she continued, "Hello…I'm Rita Skeeter; I write for the Daily Prophet…but, you already know that, of course. It's you we don't know…you're the juicy news!"
As she circled them like a vulture circling carrion, Harrison scowled darkly when he saw Skeeter caress each Champion, first with Fleur's face and then Viktor and Cedric's bodies, while she actually tousled Harrison's hair as she went on, ignorant of the hatred she was receiving from Harrison's deathly, Basilisk-like glare.
"What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? What mysteries do the muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a champion tick? Me, myself and I want to know, not to mention my rabid readers. So…who's feeling up to sharing?"
While Cedric, Fleur and Viktor looked awkward with the way they'd been handled, Skeeter made up their minds for them as she grabbed Harrison's arm before she asked, "Shall we start with the youngest? Lovely…"
Whatever else she might have said or done, however, was cut off by a scream of terror when Harrison, deciding he'd had more than enough of this vile bitch and her ego, tore Skeeter's grip off him, taking her false nails and the rest of her hand with it.
As the witch fell to the floor, clutching at the bloody stump where her hand used to be, Harrison bent down before, grabbing the witch by her throat, he glared deep into her eyes.
Around him, the air grew thick with darkness while, to his amusement, Fleur went green, Viktor seemed to be fighting the urge to vomit and Cedric was blank and emotionless. As for Albus, he was white with horror while Mr Ollivander was stunned into silence; as for Skeeter's photographer, he was being held back by Sirius, who shook his head with warning as the disgusting creature lifted his camera.
Harrison, meanwhile, let out a hiss of disgust before, reaching deep inside himself, he used one of his greatest assets against the tabloid tart.
'Can you hear me, Miss Skeeter?'
Rita, silenced by the hold on her throat and the crushing presence of Harrison's power, nodded dumbly, earning a smirk from Harrison as he continued, 'Good…now, I don't know who told you to manhandle me like some prized pig or to make a fool out of me, but…I have my suspicions!'
Fire
As he said this, his eyes flicked in Dumbledore's direction, his sclera as black as night while his green colour shone like the Killing Curse as he growled darkly at the Headmaster, who suddenly looked very frightened.
And not just because of how powerless he was to stop Harrison killing Skeeter if he wanted to because she wasn't a student of Hogwarts.
He'd paid the bane of many famed witches and wizards a hefty sum – out of his own pocket since he hadn't been able to access the Potter fortunes since that dark night many years ago, hence his desperation to get Harrison back – to smear and degrade Harrison. He also knew her secret and knew she'd be able to catch him doing something illegal or in such a manner, it'd get Harrison away from that monster and where he belonged.
On the road to his inevitable death for the Greater Good.
But, judging by the way Harrison glared at him, Dumbledore was exposed…
But that was impossible!
No boy could overpower Albus Dumbledore's plans and make them crumble like sand around him…
Fire
'Now,' continued Harrison, lowering his free hand to Rita's bloody stump.
As he wrapped his whole hand around the bleeding limb, the eyes of everyone else widened when they saw the skin healing without so much as a spell being uttered or a whisper from Harrison.
However, what they didn't know was that Harrison was still speaking as he told Rita, 'Consider my healing you a gift…and in return, you will be my eyes and ears in this world. You have secrets, Miss Skeeter, but they can easily be revealed and then you will be more worthless than fleas on a dead dog…so here's what you're going to do. I will give you an interview and you will write exactly what I say; if I find any attempts to undermine me in there, I will hunt you down, drain you dry and feed your flesh to the werewolves.'
As Rita's eyes widened with horror, Harrison smiled coldly as he added, 'However, serve me well and you will be wealthier than you can imagine and be able to have some real exclusives, not just from witches and wizards who are nothing more than happy meals on legs, but from esteemed members of the Vampire Clans and other Darksiders like them…so, what do you say?'
Releasing Rita from his grip, Harrison drew a plain-black, surprisingly-shaped wand from a holster on his wrist before, to Dumbledore's alarm and the awe of the others, a single wave of said wand conjured a pure-silver hand right where Rita's old hand had been, fake nails and all.
As she stared at the hand, Rita let out an awed gasp before, bowing low, she gasped out, "Prince Dracula…forgive me for my rudeness; I…I was just so excited to meet you…a real Royal Member of the Vampire Community, I…I forgot myself. Please, my young Lord…please forgive me."
"I do…"
'This time,' added Harrison, rising up before he handed his wand to Ollivander as he asked, "Shall I take the first go, Master Ollivander?"
As the man took the wand, his eyes widened when, looking from the wand to its bearer, he gasped, "This wand…it is a Tepes wand…but I thought he didn't make wands anymore?"
"He does…for friends," said Harrison, smiling confidently before he added, "Allow me to give you the details: Yew and Elder with a core made from the crystallised venom of a Manticore and the blood of the Vampire King himself; thirteen inches and, as you can see, it's in perfect condition."
"I'll say," whispered Ollivander, returning the wand to Harrison before he added, "I…I honestly couldn't name a wand I've ever sold or heard of that could come close to this one."
"Oh…" replied Harrison, sneering at a white-faced Dumbledore as he shrugged before he chuckled darkly, his laughter edged by a similar dark tone as his Father's, judging by the way the lights dimmed around him.
"I could probably think of one, Mr Ollivander…shame no-one knows where that wand is today."
Chapter 3 and, once again, it looks like Harrison is twenty steps ahead of the old fool and his delusions of grandeur, but what will he do with the Tasks and the dangers they may bring, even for him?
Also, how might Harrison get Hermione to give him what he wants and, when she does, what will become of our favourite brunette?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: The Ministry of Morons may be dealt with, for now, but there's still a bigger idiot at Hogwarts: fortunately for him, a welcome distraction saves his worthless hide from being mounted on Harrison's wall: one that also gives the Prince a taste of the future that now awaits him as Heir to the Throne…
Please Read and Review…
AN: Portrayal
Count Dracula: Keith Lee Castle
(Portrayed the Count in the TV Series, Young Dracula and, whenever I think of a fierce, but fatherly Drac, it's him I think of first: weird? Maybe; appropriate? Ah, each to their own, but that's who I've chosen.)