A/N: HI! Thank you for the reviews! Trying to make this chapter
interesting, now that I've seen "Chamber of Secrets". Wanna make J.K.
proud!
Firebolt9000- I deleted "Resurrection" because, to be honest, I just didn't want to write the story. I didn't care anymore. That's probably going to happen to "The Dark Days of Harry Potter", too. I haven't updated in two months, because I love this story so much more!
Coolone007- Hermione got the spell. However, she will not kill Harry (yet- who knows what will happen). Why? Because she's a kook. She's insane and evil, so Harry's torture of her, in her mind, was equal to a marriage proposal. She thinks that the old Hermione is a figment of her imagination. (Again- INSANE!) Note about the spell: it doesn't require ingestion to work. That means-
On with the story!
* * *
Voldemort was silent as he looked out upon the small town that surrounded his villa. "Will you join me, Harry Potter?"
I thought about it for a moment. Taking over the world- sounds like fun- I like fun. "All right," I agreed quickly.
The Dark Lord turned around, smiling. "I have a task for you. Complete it, to prove your worth."
"What?"
"Regain your throne from the Third."
I smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."
* * *
"I hate Happy Hour," I muttered as Hermione and I materialized on the busy streets of La Infierno. It was midnight, generally the feeding hour for most vampires. "Come on, Princess. Let's go pay the Third a visit."
The crowds that filled the street became hushed as My Girl and I strolled down them. "The Second," someone whispered. "I heard he was captured."
"I thought he was dead."
"He already is dead, fool."
I smiled wryly and passed through the parting crowd. "Does anyone know where the Third is?" Several gaping vampires pointed to the black citadel sitting at the end of the main road. "Thank you." Hermione and I manifested in the palace's master bedroom.
Draco and Ginny were sleeping in our bedroom. I rolled my eyes; Draco becomes the ruler of the vampire world, and what does he do? He sleeps. What an incredibly boring vampire.
"Morning, sunshine," I said sarcastically. Draco's eyelids fluttered, and he rolled over. He turned whiter than death.
"Harry," he said, gawking in wonder at Hermione and me. "You're supposed to be dead."
"And you were supposed to be loyal to me. Things don't always turn out like we plan them."
Hermione smirked, running her hands down my chest. "Daddy's home, and somebody's in trouble," she said seductively. She brought her lips to my right ear. "I hope it's me." I beamed at her.
"Ginny," Draco said quickly, nudging the vampiress. The red-haired girl awoke. "Go with Hermione to the sitting room."
"Wha-? How-?" The vampiress blinked in confusion.
"Just get out!" he ordered. Looking hurt, Ginny disappeared to another part of the house, Hermione following. "How did you do it?" hissed Draco as he got out of bed, watching me as if I were a figment of his imagination. "How did you escape?"
"It's an amusing story," I began, smiling as he began to shake in apprehension. "My sire rescued Hermione and I, and brought us to HER master. Lord Voldemort."
"The Dark Lord," he whispered, as if he didn't believe me.
"Nice fellow, the Dark Lord is. We're going to take over the world. First, though, I have to kill you."
Draco swallowed. "You may be back, but- but the throne is mine! I have followers, powerful followers!"
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Mentally I threw him into the wall, knocking down paintings. Dust fell in gray clouds from the ceiling. "You don't any power of your own, so you ally with powerful people. Like me." The vampire stood, but was thrust again into the wall. "Like the bloody Ministry of Magic! You betrayed me!"
"Forgive me," he begged.
"I warned you, Draco. Don't cross me."
"I won't!" he swore, clutching his head. "I swear, give me another chance." He stood, cradling his head in his hands.
There was a moment of silence as I pretended to consider forgiving him. "Hmm," I began. An eager look of hope filled his scrawny face. "No." Draco soared through the air to his armchair. From my pocket I pulled a violet orb and tossed it at Draco; there was a snapping sound, and robes bound him to the chair.
"Voldemort's a generous man," I said lazily as I walked across the room towards him. "He gave Hermione and me clothing. He gave her jewels. And me? I got toys." From my cloak pocket I pulled a velvet box. Draco winced as I revealed what was inside: a dozen pointed surgical instruments. "He forgot to sharpen the blades, though. Too bad. I guess I'll just have to press really hard." I grasped one of the scalpels and pressed it to his face, where blood trickled out.
With a delicate finger, I wiped the blood away and licked my digit clean. "Fruity," I commented. "You taste like the French and their wines." Swiftly I slit his other cheek. Draco bit his lip in pain.
"You're just as insane as Hermione," he told me. "You're just not as obvious about it."
"Thank you." I tore his sleeves off, and slashed his wrists. "Vampiric power lies in the heart," I informed him, unbuttoning his nightshirt. "You can cut out any other organ in a vampire, and they'll still be alive. But not the heart."
"You're not-" Draco started to say, his speech slightly slurred. Blood soaked into his sitting chair.
"I am." With the scalpel, I ripped into his chest, and commenced digging through the layers of skin and muscle covering his circulatory pump.
"Why are you doing this?" Draco cried out.
"You deserve it," I told him in an obvious tone, digging into his dead muscle. Draco shouted out wordlessly. "Just call me Karma."
Of course, karma always gets you back in the end. At that moment, karma decided I was its next victim.
Abruptly I dropped the knife, clutching the streaky scar gashed onto my forehead. "What-"
There were two faces, both warm and open. My mother and father. Suddenly there was shrill laughing, and an ear-shattering scream. I'd heard this before, but now there were pictures to go along the voices.
My face was buried into a thick, wooly sweater. All I could see was navy blue. The smell of my mother's perfume filled my small nose.
"Not Harry! Have mercy! Have mercy-" I heard my mother cry. She screamed as I heard Voldemort laughing shrilly. The two of us fell to the ground as the life was pulled from her.
Two hands pulled me from my mother's breast and sat me down on the carpet. Two shiny black shoes filled my vision. "Two down, one to go." The man cried out a word foreign to my infant self. There was nothing but bright green light, and a horrible pain on my head. I began to sob, just as Voldemort cried out in shock, and then there was darkness.
Then I saw the Dursleys. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. All the memories came back, about how much they hated me, how embarrassed they were at my existence. I remembered having to wear hand-me-downs, never having any treats, or birthdays, or any friends.
But then I saw Hagrid, the night he gave me my letter from Hogwarts. I saw Diagon Alley for the first time. The first time I met Draco- I knew I never liked him, even before I died. I saw Ronald-Ron for the first time on the train. He didn't have any friends either. Then I saw Hermione for the first time. I couldn't believe I never noticed her beauty even then. The three of us- we'd been inseperable.
More memories came; playing Quidditch, fighting trolls, battling Voldemort and Quirrell, escaping from the Dursleys, meeting Ginny for the first time, dueling with Malfoy, speaking Parseltongue, seeing Tom Riddle, Lupin, Sirius, the dementors, Pettigrew. The Triwizard Tournament. Voldemort's resurrection. It all flooded back.
I passed out.
* * *
"Harry?" a comforting voice asked me. I smiled; it was Hermione. Sweet Hermione-
Who I drove insane and killed out of deranged love!
I sat up in bed. "Shh, Harry," she told me. "You're ill."
There was piercing sobs from the other room. "Whose that?"
"Little Red Pretty," Hermione explained. She smiled. "You slayed her dragon. Bad Harry."
"Draco's dead?" I asked. My Girl nodded, putting her hand on my head.
"Almost," she told me. "Somebody chopped his heart into little pieces." She beamed at me, putting her hands on my chest. The touch would've been comforting once, but now her hands were icy-cold spiders.
"You feel hot, Harry," Hermione told me, looking concerned. "You need to hunt."
Hunting. "Killing innocent people" is what it should be called. Like the dozens- hundreds I killed. I'd killed so many, and done it all with a happy grin and chuckle.
"I have to go," I said. Hermione looked alarmed as I stood.
"Don't leave," she ordered. "The Dark Lord wouldn't like it."
It came one blow after another. I had joined Voldemort! The man who killed my parents! And I did it because it sounded like fun and I like fun!
"Hermione," I began. Her chocolate eyes locked on me. Even in death, she was beautiful. "Something happened to me. I- I know who I am."
"You're Harry."
"Yes, but there's more to that. Not just Harry. I'm the Boy Who Lived."
"But you're dead." It was that simple; I was the Boy Who Lived. Now I'm the Boy Who Died. That was far too ironic.
"Hermione, I need to leave for a few days. I'll be back soon, I- I promise."
"But Harry-" I cut her off with a swift kiss, savoring her. Her lips were tinged with blood, I noticed now; I supposed that the taste was so familiar, I could barely sense it.
"Soon," I told her.
She nodded. "Soon."
Just as the sun began to rise, I disappeared.
* * *
"Professor?" Albus Dumbledore looked up from his papers at me as I appeared in his chambers. "Professor-"
He nodded to me. "Your memory has returned."
"Yes," I said quietly. "Everything has come back. You have to help me, Professor Dumbledore. Please."
Firebolt9000- I deleted "Resurrection" because, to be honest, I just didn't want to write the story. I didn't care anymore. That's probably going to happen to "The Dark Days of Harry Potter", too. I haven't updated in two months, because I love this story so much more!
Coolone007- Hermione got the spell. However, she will not kill Harry (yet- who knows what will happen). Why? Because she's a kook. She's insane and evil, so Harry's torture of her, in her mind, was equal to a marriage proposal. She thinks that the old Hermione is a figment of her imagination. (Again- INSANE!) Note about the spell: it doesn't require ingestion to work. That means-
On with the story!
* * *
Voldemort was silent as he looked out upon the small town that surrounded his villa. "Will you join me, Harry Potter?"
I thought about it for a moment. Taking over the world- sounds like fun- I like fun. "All right," I agreed quickly.
The Dark Lord turned around, smiling. "I have a task for you. Complete it, to prove your worth."
"What?"
"Regain your throne from the Third."
I smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."
* * *
"I hate Happy Hour," I muttered as Hermione and I materialized on the busy streets of La Infierno. It was midnight, generally the feeding hour for most vampires. "Come on, Princess. Let's go pay the Third a visit."
The crowds that filled the street became hushed as My Girl and I strolled down them. "The Second," someone whispered. "I heard he was captured."
"I thought he was dead."
"He already is dead, fool."
I smiled wryly and passed through the parting crowd. "Does anyone know where the Third is?" Several gaping vampires pointed to the black citadel sitting at the end of the main road. "Thank you." Hermione and I manifested in the palace's master bedroom.
Draco and Ginny were sleeping in our bedroom. I rolled my eyes; Draco becomes the ruler of the vampire world, and what does he do? He sleeps. What an incredibly boring vampire.
"Morning, sunshine," I said sarcastically. Draco's eyelids fluttered, and he rolled over. He turned whiter than death.
"Harry," he said, gawking in wonder at Hermione and me. "You're supposed to be dead."
"And you were supposed to be loyal to me. Things don't always turn out like we plan them."
Hermione smirked, running her hands down my chest. "Daddy's home, and somebody's in trouble," she said seductively. She brought her lips to my right ear. "I hope it's me." I beamed at her.
"Ginny," Draco said quickly, nudging the vampiress. The red-haired girl awoke. "Go with Hermione to the sitting room."
"Wha-? How-?" The vampiress blinked in confusion.
"Just get out!" he ordered. Looking hurt, Ginny disappeared to another part of the house, Hermione following. "How did you do it?" hissed Draco as he got out of bed, watching me as if I were a figment of his imagination. "How did you escape?"
"It's an amusing story," I began, smiling as he began to shake in apprehension. "My sire rescued Hermione and I, and brought us to HER master. Lord Voldemort."
"The Dark Lord," he whispered, as if he didn't believe me.
"Nice fellow, the Dark Lord is. We're going to take over the world. First, though, I have to kill you."
Draco swallowed. "You may be back, but- but the throne is mine! I have followers, powerful followers!"
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Mentally I threw him into the wall, knocking down paintings. Dust fell in gray clouds from the ceiling. "You don't any power of your own, so you ally with powerful people. Like me." The vampire stood, but was thrust again into the wall. "Like the bloody Ministry of Magic! You betrayed me!"
"Forgive me," he begged.
"I warned you, Draco. Don't cross me."
"I won't!" he swore, clutching his head. "I swear, give me another chance." He stood, cradling his head in his hands.
There was a moment of silence as I pretended to consider forgiving him. "Hmm," I began. An eager look of hope filled his scrawny face. "No." Draco soared through the air to his armchair. From my pocket I pulled a violet orb and tossed it at Draco; there was a snapping sound, and robes bound him to the chair.
"Voldemort's a generous man," I said lazily as I walked across the room towards him. "He gave Hermione and me clothing. He gave her jewels. And me? I got toys." From my cloak pocket I pulled a velvet box. Draco winced as I revealed what was inside: a dozen pointed surgical instruments. "He forgot to sharpen the blades, though. Too bad. I guess I'll just have to press really hard." I grasped one of the scalpels and pressed it to his face, where blood trickled out.
With a delicate finger, I wiped the blood away and licked my digit clean. "Fruity," I commented. "You taste like the French and their wines." Swiftly I slit his other cheek. Draco bit his lip in pain.
"You're just as insane as Hermione," he told me. "You're just not as obvious about it."
"Thank you." I tore his sleeves off, and slashed his wrists. "Vampiric power lies in the heart," I informed him, unbuttoning his nightshirt. "You can cut out any other organ in a vampire, and they'll still be alive. But not the heart."
"You're not-" Draco started to say, his speech slightly slurred. Blood soaked into his sitting chair.
"I am." With the scalpel, I ripped into his chest, and commenced digging through the layers of skin and muscle covering his circulatory pump.
"Why are you doing this?" Draco cried out.
"You deserve it," I told him in an obvious tone, digging into his dead muscle. Draco shouted out wordlessly. "Just call me Karma."
Of course, karma always gets you back in the end. At that moment, karma decided I was its next victim.
Abruptly I dropped the knife, clutching the streaky scar gashed onto my forehead. "What-"
There were two faces, both warm and open. My mother and father. Suddenly there was shrill laughing, and an ear-shattering scream. I'd heard this before, but now there were pictures to go along the voices.
My face was buried into a thick, wooly sweater. All I could see was navy blue. The smell of my mother's perfume filled my small nose.
"Not Harry! Have mercy! Have mercy-" I heard my mother cry. She screamed as I heard Voldemort laughing shrilly. The two of us fell to the ground as the life was pulled from her.
Two hands pulled me from my mother's breast and sat me down on the carpet. Two shiny black shoes filled my vision. "Two down, one to go." The man cried out a word foreign to my infant self. There was nothing but bright green light, and a horrible pain on my head. I began to sob, just as Voldemort cried out in shock, and then there was darkness.
Then I saw the Dursleys. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. All the memories came back, about how much they hated me, how embarrassed they were at my existence. I remembered having to wear hand-me-downs, never having any treats, or birthdays, or any friends.
But then I saw Hagrid, the night he gave me my letter from Hogwarts. I saw Diagon Alley for the first time. The first time I met Draco- I knew I never liked him, even before I died. I saw Ronald-Ron for the first time on the train. He didn't have any friends either. Then I saw Hermione for the first time. I couldn't believe I never noticed her beauty even then. The three of us- we'd been inseperable.
More memories came; playing Quidditch, fighting trolls, battling Voldemort and Quirrell, escaping from the Dursleys, meeting Ginny for the first time, dueling with Malfoy, speaking Parseltongue, seeing Tom Riddle, Lupin, Sirius, the dementors, Pettigrew. The Triwizard Tournament. Voldemort's resurrection. It all flooded back.
I passed out.
* * *
"Harry?" a comforting voice asked me. I smiled; it was Hermione. Sweet Hermione-
Who I drove insane and killed out of deranged love!
I sat up in bed. "Shh, Harry," she told me. "You're ill."
There was piercing sobs from the other room. "Whose that?"
"Little Red Pretty," Hermione explained. She smiled. "You slayed her dragon. Bad Harry."
"Draco's dead?" I asked. My Girl nodded, putting her hand on my head.
"Almost," she told me. "Somebody chopped his heart into little pieces." She beamed at me, putting her hands on my chest. The touch would've been comforting once, but now her hands were icy-cold spiders.
"You feel hot, Harry," Hermione told me, looking concerned. "You need to hunt."
Hunting. "Killing innocent people" is what it should be called. Like the dozens- hundreds I killed. I'd killed so many, and done it all with a happy grin and chuckle.
"I have to go," I said. Hermione looked alarmed as I stood.
"Don't leave," she ordered. "The Dark Lord wouldn't like it."
It came one blow after another. I had joined Voldemort! The man who killed my parents! And I did it because it sounded like fun and I like fun!
"Hermione," I began. Her chocolate eyes locked on me. Even in death, she was beautiful. "Something happened to me. I- I know who I am."
"You're Harry."
"Yes, but there's more to that. Not just Harry. I'm the Boy Who Lived."
"But you're dead." It was that simple; I was the Boy Who Lived. Now I'm the Boy Who Died. That was far too ironic.
"Hermione, I need to leave for a few days. I'll be back soon, I- I promise."
"But Harry-" I cut her off with a swift kiss, savoring her. Her lips were tinged with blood, I noticed now; I supposed that the taste was so familiar, I could barely sense it.
"Soon," I told her.
She nodded. "Soon."
Just as the sun began to rise, I disappeared.
* * *
"Professor?" Albus Dumbledore looked up from his papers at me as I appeared in his chambers. "Professor-"
He nodded to me. "Your memory has returned."
"Yes," I said quietly. "Everything has come back. You have to help me, Professor Dumbledore. Please."