Chapter Four: Scars of Desire
The purples and pinks and oranges merged together in the sky like a giant oil canvas, the magnified setting sun the center of the masterpiece. The artist was swiftly painting over the bright and glorious scene with a dark and velvety color sprinkled with sparkling diamonds.
Layla Ferris led the unknowing Harry Potter to his doom, one way or the other.
Layla's head was spinning as she contemplated what to do. But she had plenty of time for that when she reached the woods and rendered her student unconscious. The naïve fool. He actually trusted her. He actually thought he loved her. She chuckled at the thought and marveled at her own deception skills.
"Something funny?" Harry asked.
"Yes, actually," Layla said with a smile. "I was just imagining the look on Voldemort's face when he finds out that vampyres in fact are more powerful than he ever will be. Just think, Harry, you won't have to be afraid anymore! You could take him down with one hit." Harry stopped in his tracks and Layla looked at him with fake concern.
"Is something wrong?" Harry eyed her with slight anger.
"You think I'm afraid."
"No, Harry, I don't think--"
"Then why did you say it? Listen, Layla, you can't even begin to imagine what I've been through in my seventeen years of life! You can't even know-- "
"And you can't even comprehend what I've seen and experienced, Potter!" Layla hissed, her eyes turning a ghostly yellow. "You weren't there when the Black Plague stuck, were you? You didn't hear the screams of innocent children dying in the French and American Revolutions! You didn't have Marie Antoinette's head roll to your feet! You weren't there when the rivers ran red with blood in Egypt. And you weren't there when the foolish ghost of a horseman terrorized that pleasant town of Sleepy Hollow!" Layla sneered at the boy and then added as an after thought, "Stupid git, can't even scare people right."
"OK, OK, Layla, I'm sorry. Just, could you change your eyes? Please?" Layla smiled at the child.
"Of course, my love," she whispered and caressed his cheek. "Now come, the night is young and the transformation must take place!"
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The pounding in her ears awoke the poor girl, lying alone in the dark corridor and the throbbing in her head was as ferocious as a hurricane. An ominous wind sent chills up her spine and he and his fellows danced throughout the stone hall whispering words in a long forgotten language. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if they knew something she didn't and if the barely audible words beyond comprehension were whispering warnings of trouble. The irking feeling of apprehensive nausea began to churn in her stomach.
She looked in the classroom. The surface of the desk was awry with scattered papers. Some of the papers had fluttered to the floor. Hermione noticed the crimson stain on the cold stone floor. But where on earth was the owner of the blood?
As the teenager stood up and straightened her clothing, she felt something in her robe pocket. She reached in and pulled out a piece of parchment.
"Hermione," she read aloud. "I know you will say that what I am doing is a bad idea. But there's no time for you to be cursing about me. I need you to go to Dumbledore and ask if he knew that Layla Ferris was a vampyre. If he did not know, then something is incredibly wrong. I've no idea if this woman is telling the truth but there's only one way to find out without letting her get away and that was to go with her. Please, hurry to Dumbledore and tell him this news!" Hermione looked at the bottom of the letter to find her best friend's signature.
"Harry, you stupid little." Stuffing the letter into her pocket again, Hermione sprinted as fast as she could down the hall to see Professor Dumbledore.
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"Where are we going?" The obvious question was finally voiced.
"The forest."
"Why?"
"For privacy."
"How long will this take?"
"A few hours."
"Hours?" Layla said nothing. Harry sighed.
"OK," he said. "You got me."
"Excuse me?"
"I am scared. I've been scared half these seven years at Hogwarts. So scared, I don't even know what genuine fear is like any more. I've been beyond scared. I've been terrified for so long, the feeling doesn't even bother me any more and I ignore it. I've accepted the fact that Voldemort could find me tomorrow, or the day after that, and I'd be dead. But now, I think I remember genuine fear."
"Is that so? Why?" Layla asked with exaggerated curiosity.
"Because this is a different thing that I'm afraid of. I'm no longer afraid of dying, I'm afraid of living. You're offering me eternal life, and the price I have to pay for this is to watch my friends grow old. And to feed off the blood of others. And to tell you the truth, I'm terrified of it." Layla scowled, but said nothing. At this little speech, she decided that she was going to turn Harry into Lord Voldemort. It was people with sentiments like these who thought they were doing the vampyre kind a favor by putting them out of their misery. And it was vampyres with these sentiments that were threats to others of her kind and possibly, if the vampyre was powerful enough, a danger to Layla, Queen of the Vampyres herself. And she wasn't going to allow a threat like that to even enter her world.
Then again.
Layla decided on a better idea. She would keep the deception going, she would keep Harry's trust in her until she and him destroyed Lord Voldemort together. Then, she would regain her clan of vampyres and take her place as her queen. She would also, eventually, have to kill Harry once the job was done, once he posed a large enough threat to her. She was beginning to like him, but it didn't matter. One human was no different from the next. Though vampyres were a slightly different story, she was sure she'd have no trouble killing her own spawn. She smiled at her brilliant plan.
"Don't worry, Harry," she reassured him. "You will have no fears about anything in a few hours. Not Voldemort, and not even of life."
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"DAMN YOU GARGOYLE WHY WON'T YOU OPEN!" Hermione kicked the statue only to receive an aching foot.
"Having trouble, Granger?" Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"The last thing I need."
"I see you're trying to get into the principal's office. May I ask why?"
"I've no time for you Malfoy!" Hermione shouted as she banged on the stone statue.
"Would it help if I told you that I know how to get in?" Hermione stopped pounding, but didn't look at him.
"What would it cost me?"
"Oh quite a bit. Lucky for you, he's not in there."
"And where is he?" Hermione demanded through gritted teeth.
"Tell me why you need him!"
"Tell me where he is!"
"I'll make a deal with you, mudblood. I'll lead you to him and you tell me what's going on."
"Is that all you want?" Hermione was doubtful.
"Of course that's all I want!" Malfoy looked surprised and Hermione knew there was more. But for now.
"OK. If I may ask, why you haven't run away with the dark side yet?" Hermione scowled at the Slytherin beside her as he led her down the hall. The blond boy gave her a wry smile.
"You see, I would, love, if it were not for your annoying female ways to try and reform a man."
"Sorry?" Hermione said, not following.
"I meant you as a general gender. You see, Ginger's been quite the stubborn type about my dark side fantasies. And you know how Ravenclaws get when they're angry. Quite violent. And whenever she gets angry with me, it just makes it so hard to break up with her because she's so attractive when she's fuming. But alas, she's too good for me. And when I say good, I mean--"
"She's not the Death Eater type?" Hermione asked with a slight smile. So, it was Ginger Halliwell, a Ravenclaw girl she knew who had finally tamed the wild beast that was Draco Malfoy. She had been wondering which girl would be strong enough to do it.
"Precisely. However, one day, you better believe I'll be on the opposing team and you and your pathetic friends are going down!" Draco sneered and was his old self again. But Hermione smiled.
"For some reasons, your threats no longer bother me anymore now that you've been whipped by your girlfriend." Malfoy whipped out his wand and pointed the end of it at Hermione's chest.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do you in right now, mudblood!" he hissed.
"Because I have better things to do." Hermione yawned and pushed the wand away. "Harry's in trouble." Malfoy grinned.
"Is that so? Is that why you need Dumbledore? What kind of trouble?" Hermione was in such a mood that Malfoy was no longer a threat to her, he was a nuisance. She shoved the boy out of the way.
"Sod off, Malfoy," she said. "Tell me where Dumbledore is."
"I'm keeping my end of the bargain, you keep yours," Malfoy grinned. He started rubbing the upper part of his right arm with his left. Hermione found this slightly odd, but finally, she sighed. What harm could he do?
"Harry's gone of with a vampyre and I need to know what kind of trouble he's in, that's why I'm going to Dumbledore." Draco smiled a wicked smile.
"Is that so." he sounded more pleased than disbelieving and his hand inched unnoticed into his robe pocket.
"Yes, that's the whole truth."
"And?"
"There is no and. That's all I know." Quickly, Malfoy drew his wand out of his robe pocket and pointed it at Hermione. Hermione was too surprised at his movements to counter his attack as he cried:
"Stupefy!" and she fell to the floor unconscious for the second time that night. Grinning, Malfoy jogged off out of the castle.
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"Come, child, the moon is rising swiftly!" Layla beckoned for Harry to follow her into the depths of the woods. The moon was indeed rising swiftly and its eerie glow cast shadows on the dark forest floor through the leaves. Layla led the young man deep into the forest where it grew darker until Harry could barely see the sky and the moon was nearly invisible through the thick and tangled web of the canopy of the forest.
When Harry caught up with the old vampyre who appeared to be a young woman, he noticed she was illuminated in the dark by her yellow cat-eyes. She giggled and the grin on her face was visible even through the dark. A passing moonbeam hit Layla's face in just the right place so that the silver glow reflected on Layla's long ivory fangs. Harry paused in fear.
"Don't be afraid, Harry," Layla said soothingly, approaching him with a warm smile. "I don't look that horrible, do I?"
"You don't look horrible at all, Layla. You could never look horrible. But those eyes. They haunt my mind. Even before I knew about you, those eyes were in my darkest nightmares that I never even dared to tell anyone about. There's something about them." Harry refrained from saying 'something evil.' For he knew this would anger his lovely vampyre and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wasn't sure he wanted to do this anymore. He shouldn't have gone with her, he should have gone to Dumbledore, gone to get help. But Layla had a power over him that he couldn't control. It was an unnatural feeling that overwhelmed Harry whenever she was near him. A feeling of lust and of wanting and of admiration and desire. It made him want to do anything to please his love and satisfy her in anyway he could. It was a twisted and abnormal thing that Harry was sure she used to control him with. And in that moment, he was unsure and doubting.
Layla knew that look Harry held in those emerald eyes and scorned it. He was growing suspicious and losing his trust in her. She had to do this fast. She put on an innocent face and stroked his chin affectionately.
"Don't be afraid. I am offering you eternity. You are with me, now." She ran her pale hand through his dark hair and knew that her power was engulfing him again as he closed his eyes and felt her hand caress his scalp. She took his hand in hers and used her sharp finger nail to draw a line of blood across his wrist, baring his vein.
"With your blood." she whispered and then bared her own vein. "And with mine." She took Harry firmly by his arm and pressed the two gashes together. "Damnation is what surrounds a vampyre and damnation is what he becomes!" she screamed. Harry felled to his knees as he noticed his blood was swiftly and freely gushing out of his wound. When he was on his knees, she tilted is chin up to look at her and opened her mouth. She poured the blood from her wrist into the lad's mouth and nearly smothered him with it. He began spluttering and coughing and when she took her wrist away, blood framed his lips.
"Look," she said nodding at his wound. Harry blinked. The blood had stopped. The wound was healing at an incredible rate. Layla grinned. "We are almost finished." She kissed him softly on his lips and moved down his neck. She bared her teeth and pierced his soft skin and feasted on his blood. When she was finished, she pulled away. She then tilted her neck to the side and brushed her long silver hair off of her neck, baring it for Harry.
"DRINK!" she commanded. And Harry did so.
And with that, the deal had been done, the pact had been sealed. And Harry could not turn back.
The purples and pinks and oranges merged together in the sky like a giant oil canvas, the magnified setting sun the center of the masterpiece. The artist was swiftly painting over the bright and glorious scene with a dark and velvety color sprinkled with sparkling diamonds.
Layla Ferris led the unknowing Harry Potter to his doom, one way or the other.
Layla's head was spinning as she contemplated what to do. But she had plenty of time for that when she reached the woods and rendered her student unconscious. The naïve fool. He actually trusted her. He actually thought he loved her. She chuckled at the thought and marveled at her own deception skills.
"Something funny?" Harry asked.
"Yes, actually," Layla said with a smile. "I was just imagining the look on Voldemort's face when he finds out that vampyres in fact are more powerful than he ever will be. Just think, Harry, you won't have to be afraid anymore! You could take him down with one hit." Harry stopped in his tracks and Layla looked at him with fake concern.
"Is something wrong?" Harry eyed her with slight anger.
"You think I'm afraid."
"No, Harry, I don't think--"
"Then why did you say it? Listen, Layla, you can't even begin to imagine what I've been through in my seventeen years of life! You can't even know-- "
"And you can't even comprehend what I've seen and experienced, Potter!" Layla hissed, her eyes turning a ghostly yellow. "You weren't there when the Black Plague stuck, were you? You didn't hear the screams of innocent children dying in the French and American Revolutions! You didn't have Marie Antoinette's head roll to your feet! You weren't there when the rivers ran red with blood in Egypt. And you weren't there when the foolish ghost of a horseman terrorized that pleasant town of Sleepy Hollow!" Layla sneered at the boy and then added as an after thought, "Stupid git, can't even scare people right."
"OK, OK, Layla, I'm sorry. Just, could you change your eyes? Please?" Layla smiled at the child.
"Of course, my love," she whispered and caressed his cheek. "Now come, the night is young and the transformation must take place!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The pounding in her ears awoke the poor girl, lying alone in the dark corridor and the throbbing in her head was as ferocious as a hurricane. An ominous wind sent chills up her spine and he and his fellows danced throughout the stone hall whispering words in a long forgotten language. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if they knew something she didn't and if the barely audible words beyond comprehension were whispering warnings of trouble. The irking feeling of apprehensive nausea began to churn in her stomach.
She looked in the classroom. The surface of the desk was awry with scattered papers. Some of the papers had fluttered to the floor. Hermione noticed the crimson stain on the cold stone floor. But where on earth was the owner of the blood?
As the teenager stood up and straightened her clothing, she felt something in her robe pocket. She reached in and pulled out a piece of parchment.
"Hermione," she read aloud. "I know you will say that what I am doing is a bad idea. But there's no time for you to be cursing about me. I need you to go to Dumbledore and ask if he knew that Layla Ferris was a vampyre. If he did not know, then something is incredibly wrong. I've no idea if this woman is telling the truth but there's only one way to find out without letting her get away and that was to go with her. Please, hurry to Dumbledore and tell him this news!" Hermione looked at the bottom of the letter to find her best friend's signature.
"Harry, you stupid little." Stuffing the letter into her pocket again, Hermione sprinted as fast as she could down the hall to see Professor Dumbledore.
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"Where are we going?" The obvious question was finally voiced.
"The forest."
"Why?"
"For privacy."
"How long will this take?"
"A few hours."
"Hours?" Layla said nothing. Harry sighed.
"OK," he said. "You got me."
"Excuse me?"
"I am scared. I've been scared half these seven years at Hogwarts. So scared, I don't even know what genuine fear is like any more. I've been beyond scared. I've been terrified for so long, the feeling doesn't even bother me any more and I ignore it. I've accepted the fact that Voldemort could find me tomorrow, or the day after that, and I'd be dead. But now, I think I remember genuine fear."
"Is that so? Why?" Layla asked with exaggerated curiosity.
"Because this is a different thing that I'm afraid of. I'm no longer afraid of dying, I'm afraid of living. You're offering me eternal life, and the price I have to pay for this is to watch my friends grow old. And to feed off the blood of others. And to tell you the truth, I'm terrified of it." Layla scowled, but said nothing. At this little speech, she decided that she was going to turn Harry into Lord Voldemort. It was people with sentiments like these who thought they were doing the vampyre kind a favor by putting them out of their misery. And it was vampyres with these sentiments that were threats to others of her kind and possibly, if the vampyre was powerful enough, a danger to Layla, Queen of the Vampyres herself. And she wasn't going to allow a threat like that to even enter her world.
Then again.
Layla decided on a better idea. She would keep the deception going, she would keep Harry's trust in her until she and him destroyed Lord Voldemort together. Then, she would regain her clan of vampyres and take her place as her queen. She would also, eventually, have to kill Harry once the job was done, once he posed a large enough threat to her. She was beginning to like him, but it didn't matter. One human was no different from the next. Though vampyres were a slightly different story, she was sure she'd have no trouble killing her own spawn. She smiled at her brilliant plan.
"Don't worry, Harry," she reassured him. "You will have no fears about anything in a few hours. Not Voldemort, and not even of life."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"DAMN YOU GARGOYLE WHY WON'T YOU OPEN!" Hermione kicked the statue only to receive an aching foot.
"Having trouble, Granger?" Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"The last thing I need."
"I see you're trying to get into the principal's office. May I ask why?"
"I've no time for you Malfoy!" Hermione shouted as she banged on the stone statue.
"Would it help if I told you that I know how to get in?" Hermione stopped pounding, but didn't look at him.
"What would it cost me?"
"Oh quite a bit. Lucky for you, he's not in there."
"And where is he?" Hermione demanded through gritted teeth.
"Tell me why you need him!"
"Tell me where he is!"
"I'll make a deal with you, mudblood. I'll lead you to him and you tell me what's going on."
"Is that all you want?" Hermione was doubtful.
"Of course that's all I want!" Malfoy looked surprised and Hermione knew there was more. But for now.
"OK. If I may ask, why you haven't run away with the dark side yet?" Hermione scowled at the Slytherin beside her as he led her down the hall. The blond boy gave her a wry smile.
"You see, I would, love, if it were not for your annoying female ways to try and reform a man."
"Sorry?" Hermione said, not following.
"I meant you as a general gender. You see, Ginger's been quite the stubborn type about my dark side fantasies. And you know how Ravenclaws get when they're angry. Quite violent. And whenever she gets angry with me, it just makes it so hard to break up with her because she's so attractive when she's fuming. But alas, she's too good for me. And when I say good, I mean--"
"She's not the Death Eater type?" Hermione asked with a slight smile. So, it was Ginger Halliwell, a Ravenclaw girl she knew who had finally tamed the wild beast that was Draco Malfoy. She had been wondering which girl would be strong enough to do it.
"Precisely. However, one day, you better believe I'll be on the opposing team and you and your pathetic friends are going down!" Draco sneered and was his old self again. But Hermione smiled.
"For some reasons, your threats no longer bother me anymore now that you've been whipped by your girlfriend." Malfoy whipped out his wand and pointed the end of it at Hermione's chest.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do you in right now, mudblood!" he hissed.
"Because I have better things to do." Hermione yawned and pushed the wand away. "Harry's in trouble." Malfoy grinned.
"Is that so? Is that why you need Dumbledore? What kind of trouble?" Hermione was in such a mood that Malfoy was no longer a threat to her, he was a nuisance. She shoved the boy out of the way.
"Sod off, Malfoy," she said. "Tell me where Dumbledore is."
"I'm keeping my end of the bargain, you keep yours," Malfoy grinned. He started rubbing the upper part of his right arm with his left. Hermione found this slightly odd, but finally, she sighed. What harm could he do?
"Harry's gone of with a vampyre and I need to know what kind of trouble he's in, that's why I'm going to Dumbledore." Draco smiled a wicked smile.
"Is that so." he sounded more pleased than disbelieving and his hand inched unnoticed into his robe pocket.
"Yes, that's the whole truth."
"And?"
"There is no and. That's all I know." Quickly, Malfoy drew his wand out of his robe pocket and pointed it at Hermione. Hermione was too surprised at his movements to counter his attack as he cried:
"Stupefy!" and she fell to the floor unconscious for the second time that night. Grinning, Malfoy jogged off out of the castle.
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"Come, child, the moon is rising swiftly!" Layla beckoned for Harry to follow her into the depths of the woods. The moon was indeed rising swiftly and its eerie glow cast shadows on the dark forest floor through the leaves. Layla led the young man deep into the forest where it grew darker until Harry could barely see the sky and the moon was nearly invisible through the thick and tangled web of the canopy of the forest.
When Harry caught up with the old vampyre who appeared to be a young woman, he noticed she was illuminated in the dark by her yellow cat-eyes. She giggled and the grin on her face was visible even through the dark. A passing moonbeam hit Layla's face in just the right place so that the silver glow reflected on Layla's long ivory fangs. Harry paused in fear.
"Don't be afraid, Harry," Layla said soothingly, approaching him with a warm smile. "I don't look that horrible, do I?"
"You don't look horrible at all, Layla. You could never look horrible. But those eyes. They haunt my mind. Even before I knew about you, those eyes were in my darkest nightmares that I never even dared to tell anyone about. There's something about them." Harry refrained from saying 'something evil.' For he knew this would anger his lovely vampyre and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wasn't sure he wanted to do this anymore. He shouldn't have gone with her, he should have gone to Dumbledore, gone to get help. But Layla had a power over him that he couldn't control. It was an unnatural feeling that overwhelmed Harry whenever she was near him. A feeling of lust and of wanting and of admiration and desire. It made him want to do anything to please his love and satisfy her in anyway he could. It was a twisted and abnormal thing that Harry was sure she used to control him with. And in that moment, he was unsure and doubting.
Layla knew that look Harry held in those emerald eyes and scorned it. He was growing suspicious and losing his trust in her. She had to do this fast. She put on an innocent face and stroked his chin affectionately.
"Don't be afraid. I am offering you eternity. You are with me, now." She ran her pale hand through his dark hair and knew that her power was engulfing him again as he closed his eyes and felt her hand caress his scalp. She took his hand in hers and used her sharp finger nail to draw a line of blood across his wrist, baring his vein.
"With your blood." she whispered and then bared her own vein. "And with mine." She took Harry firmly by his arm and pressed the two gashes together. "Damnation is what surrounds a vampyre and damnation is what he becomes!" she screamed. Harry felled to his knees as he noticed his blood was swiftly and freely gushing out of his wound. When he was on his knees, she tilted is chin up to look at her and opened her mouth. She poured the blood from her wrist into the lad's mouth and nearly smothered him with it. He began spluttering and coughing and when she took her wrist away, blood framed his lips.
"Look," she said nodding at his wound. Harry blinked. The blood had stopped. The wound was healing at an incredible rate. Layla grinned. "We are almost finished." She kissed him softly on his lips and moved down his neck. She bared her teeth and pierced his soft skin and feasted on his blood. When she was finished, she pulled away. She then tilted her neck to the side and brushed her long silver hair off of her neck, baring it for Harry.
"DRINK!" she commanded. And Harry did so.
And with that, the deal had been done, the pact had been sealed. And Harry could not turn back.