Title: Rushing, Forever. (Chapter Four)

Author: P.L.S

Contact: ptwentyfour@yahoo.com

Summery: VALOR challenge response. Harry seems to finally find a peace as a vampire, until the public finds out. . . running, hiding, helping others who are in need; his life is suddenly filled by hate and fear when the Ministry takes down the protections and declare Open Season on all Dark creatures, with a hefty bounty for the supposedly strongest vampire ever created, Harry Potter.

Rating: (Changes with the chapter)- Twelve years and up.

Disclaimer: Is this even needed? Is it? I own very little in this thing. What I do own is fair game for the rest of you. Don't sue me, I won't sue you.

Note: Loving it. . . You want to know how you know when you know you have a great plot going? You don't. You just do. Make sense? Oh, for some of you who may be wondering Why is Nemesis used as a veela curse word?. . . simple. I said in my last chapter that veela, harpies, and sirens were related and used to be the gods' avengers. . . their goddess would be Nemisis the punisher of those who wronged the gods in Greece. So instead of saying Jesus H. Christ! or Merlin! they curse with her name. BTW, I'm sure someone is going to hate me for what I do in this chapter . . . No apologies for anything.


(1:43 pm 26/03/07 In the sky above Peace brook Village, Paraguay)

Get away from him. growled out Gabrielle, finally turning into her harpy stage.

Her talons gleamed golden in the blazing sun, and her black feathers had a red cast to them, making her look like the angel of vengeance she descended from. Practically floating with only the periodic flap of her great wings and with magical fire was crackling around her, there was no doubt in her mind that she was going to either kill the vampire or just rip into him until he fell from the broomstick. She wasn't about to let some vampire try and feed off of Hermione and Jeff's kid, never in a million years. But she wasn't about to attack him first, unless he made one more move towards Travis or towards her.

The vampire was stunned, but he wasn't backing off. No, he turned his head in Travis's direction instead. Er. . . Trav? Since when has your mum been hanging with harpies? They hate humans, or most of them do. the vampire sounded confused and slightly nervous, but not at all scared. Gabrielle turned to look at Travis who grinned then laughed.

Uncle Harry! drawled the boy giggling, She's Gabby, she's a really cool veela who teaches at Headmaster Snape's college. Travis flew up to her on a broomstick, he was wobbling a bit, but it was one of his first times up on a broom, if Gabrielle recalled correctly. Travis held out his arms to her and she plucked him out of the air, hugging him and grabbing his broom with one of her clawed feet.

Oh, Travis. You worry me too much. I see you here with a vampire and your parents are working, thus oblivious to the world. . . I panicked. I can't let anything ever happen to you. she whispered before glaring at the vampire.

And you, she growled in a low voice, You should know that brooms may only be used on the pitch or much lower to the ground. I had two thoughts in my head before I was going to kill you. One, they are spies for the Light and they found us. Two, they are front-line soldiers for the Light and they found us. In both cases I was ready to kill as soon as I made contact. For a vampire, you are an idiot. She tossed the broom at the vampire and gave him one last glare before spiraling down into the lab building.

When she touched down she went back to looking like a human, but her clothes were ruined. Her backless shirt was stretched out and she was lucky it still covered her. Her jeans were a mess, the seams split and singed. Her shoes and socks were a lost cause.

she hissed as Travis ran down the platform to the stairs. All the while he was hollering for his mum and dad at the top of his lungs. Behind her she heard the distinct thumps of boots hitting the platform, the vampire, This is why I hate playing the bloody heroine, I ruin my good clothes. she muttered as she stalked off ignoring the cause of it all. She just needed to find a set of cover alls or the like to cover her up until she could get to her duplex and change.

Finding the broom cupboard where she remembered it, she went in and found a set of worn coveralls, with stains of potions, grease, ink, and Nemisis knows what else. Grumbling about bad luck, idiot vampires who acted like children, and being a veela in general she pulled on the coverall and zipped it up. Under a stool was a pair of pink wellingtons, and seeing as how it was foolhardy to walk with unprotected feet in the labs, she donned the horrors. As she walked out of the cupboard the damned vampire had the audacity to laugh. At that point Gabrielle loathed the jerk with all her heart.

She heard the sound of several sets of legs running up the stairs and shouts of greetings from Hermione and Jeff. She didn't look to them, she just glared at the vampire, the arse who laughed when everything was his fault to begin with. It seemed the vampire wasn't aware he had just made an enemy for life.

(3:23 pm 26/03/07, Angel of Mercy Mission, northern Chile)

Father Angél Blanco was just about done with the sermon for mass. It was simple, but it would speak to his guests, and there were just so many these days. He knew it was just out of courtesy they stayed and came to mass, but every time they looked upon an icon, heard the Word, were greeted by the other missionaries, prayed to God, he knew they were a few steps closer to finding salvation and God. He prayed for it everyday now, more sure than ever God was ready to move their hearts, heal them, give them what they needed to truly live. He smiled as he thought of the baptism of a newborn that was performed not two days ago, it was a blessing to know that people were so devoted to the Lord they pledged their children to Him. The name was Hector Jesus Cruz, and the boy was smiling the whole time, probably overjoyed to be in the spotlight. He was the latest of the seven children in the Cruz family. The party afterwards had been wonderful, and surprising. Harry's peer, Draco Malfoy, had shown up with his daughter, delivering a letter from Harry to Blanco. The Cruzes insisted that the two stay and join in the festivities and Draco's daughter turned on the charm. They stayed and Draco even conjured up a gift for the baby, a stuffed dragon that roared, or rather, squeaked. The three year old, Belinda, charmed all the children into playing silly games like tag, which she lost, and Duck, Duck, Goose, which she lost many times.

Her cries of Papa! Papa! Lookie, I made Margarita pink! stunned us all. She had managed to transform the normally sleek black hair of the eldest Cruz child, into a brilliant flouresant pink. Draco just grinned foe hours after he changed her hair back with a whispered word and a swish of his wand. He told Blanco that it was her first bit of magic, and was very much like taking her first steps or saying her first word or even a Baptism. Since her first magic was a charm, and a Light charm at that, Draco said that she would probably be a Light witch with a talent for charms and counter-charms. He also said she was an oddity in his family, most were Dark wizards. But not only that, she was created in love. Normally he would have been forced to have an heir with a woman his parents approved of, only because of her bloodlines. But now he was married to a woman he loved with all his heart and he had a child with her because of that love, not obligation.

I don't have anymore obligations, not to my pedigree at least. This is like a whole new life, and I don't think I can ever set foot in my ancestral home again, even if I could legally and without fear of death at the hands of Aurors. Draco said with a grin.

That was the only thing that still troubled him about the newcomers, they seemed to joke about death, others and their own. They seemed fearless of what lay beyond, uncaring of the sins of war, some seemed to love pain and suffering. More than half were murders, but none seemed repentant, and all seemed to understand their crimes too well. Harry could rattle off at least sixty punishments from around the world for a serial killer like he was. Draco reminisced at times with other British wizards about killing people for no reason other than they existed. The tall black specters, dementors, would suck the soul out of your body and leave you for dead. He had over heard someone called Snape teasing Harry about the people he's killed versus the people he has saved. Harry grinned back and hinted at the vile past of the man right back, without batting a lash. It was just too effortless.

Socrates once said, To know good is to do good, but the only good the Dark Council seemed to do was try to stop a war before it hurt too many people, and at the same time stop the world from blowing up or whatever the latest terminology was.

Angél ended that train of thoughts and put his work in his top drawer, uncovering the unopened letter from Harry. Up until this point he had been rushing around and berely had time to sleep.

He lifted it up, and smiled. It amused him how they used wax an seals still. He knew it was the easiest ways for them, the wax absorbed spells and helped to make sure that letters would not be read or faked by others. Harry's seal was a winged snake curled around a sword. In the seal imprint he could see the scales and the feathers, every detail was pressed into the wax. It was striking beauty, plain and simple.

Opening the letter he smiled as he saw Harry's sharp, thin, and stark lines, all angles and points. It was a harsh contrast to the way he spoke, so fluid, friendly, and sweet at times. It was a reminder that no matter how honest anyone seemed, to watch for the other shoe to drop.

Dear Father Angél Blanco,

As usual I'm not about to tell you where I am, only that I'm fine. Things could always be going better, but I'm not going to whine over nothing. How are things there? You save any lost souls yet? I am reading that Bible you gave me, enlightening, but as I told you I just can't seem to get over my unease. It's like someone it watching over my shoulder every time I open it, and then as I try to catch them, the feeling leaves. Maybe I'm just paranoid.

All in all things are getting better, plans are coming together, ideas are sprouting just as rapidly as our schools, and while less people openly support us, there are a great number who do sympathize. As in most things, the support of the people is what is keeping our people alive. Of course, the schools and co-ops that spring up help in getting that support from the countries that need the help.

I'm getting to visit with a few old friends soon. First R., the spy. He's a great guy, and surprisingly good at his job. I'm guessing it runs in his family, his dad was a spy in the Ministry as well for the Order, his brothers all have specialized in breaking rules and not getting caught, well, except the twins I told you about. But they just wanted the advertising that came from getting that many detentions in six years. I'm still not sure where his sister is. I'm worried about her, and I know that she was the most open about her magic. I should have planned ahead better when I left, and taken her and their mother with me. Both were open about having Dark abilities, especially after I was. R's looking, but since it is his sister, I doubt he would get word of that arrest. They are trying their hardest not to show too much of the corruption to him and the rest of the Aurors from that last war.

Because of that I am getting worried. Something is going on, something that I need to find out before this secret hurts the Dark peoples. How does one go about seeking the secrets of the ones who exiled us? It seems that I need more spies, but I can't risk it. Everything is a double edged blade, pros and cons, and lives versus a life. I always want to save everyone, but I'm finding my limits to be more and more constricting, and that not everyone wants to be saved. I've had people come up to me and offer to go on suicide missions. What am I supposed to say to them?! Uh, sure. Go and kill yourself in the name of Darkness. or maybe I should start setting up mental wards for them. . . I think I'm going insane. The worst part is, I have to seriously consider it, see if it will save lives to give one up. A bloody chess game, and I have always lost when playing that game.

Council is set to convene on April fifteenth, noonish. Can I assume the Mission is still open to us? It worked out very well last few times, and a lot of the representatives liked the people in town, and your missionaries as well. Not to mention, since it is sacred ground, no fights. Yes, for a bunch of murdering psychos, we are all very scared of looking bad in front of the other hundred psychos and bastards and as such codes of honor and chivalry are common. Of course I can blame any mistakes I make on being a Gryffindor, but most know by now I am Slytherin's magical descendent and as such I'm supposedly gifted in politics and subversion.

What I want to know is, if Slytherin was so political and great at lying, why did he leave Hogwarts? He could have slowly convinced the other founders to leave one by one, until he was in control of the bloody school, or just killed them. Supposedly both are very Slytherin ways to get rid of dissidents. To be honest I think the stories are a bunch of lies, something else happened to get Slytherin to leave, or die.

Oh! I have to go. I'll try to write soon as I can, maybe in a week or two.

HJP

Angél smiled and fingered his rosary, the black glass beads glinted in the sunlight that made it's way into his office. He was always being amazed to the younger vampire. Harry was many conflicting things, most of the time Harry just acted as he felt was best, but not with out a quick version of his own inner dialectic. It was no real surprise that everyone was pressuring him into taking more control and more responsibility, Harry was charismatic and had an inner strength that you could just feel. None of the rest that Angél had met so far showed all of the traits that made Harry the great leader. But Harry also had a lack of control and understanding on his part, he also had a very unfortunate habit of biting off far more than he could handle at times and then being too proud to ask for help.

Severus Snape, a wizard who used to be Harry's teacher, told him of how Harry acted in the last wizards war in England. The story was nothing short of amazing to Angél. Harry was caught up in a great battle in a wizarding village and then seemed to vanish after it. His team lost track of him in the beginning of the fight, but assumed that Harry just had his own chores to do, as usual. The last one to see him was a villager he saved from Draco's father, he then fought the then-evil wizard.

Harry wasn't seen until three days after the battle, when he found his commander, reported in then went to go rest. Snape had found him passed out not ten feet from the room. Because his robes were black, Snape didn't see the blood until he looked at his hands. Harry had been stabbed five times on his limbs and his back was torn up with a glass and nail studded whip.

Snape later found out that Harry had been captured then tortured for information, that the other side couldn't get out of him. Other Death Eaters bragged of various things from holding him under pain inducing curses for up to an hour, to beating him then healing him just to beat him again, up to raping him. Under all of this Harry managed to stay sane, not break, and escape without catching the notice of anyone. Harry also admitted that he wasn't going to tell anyone, he was planning on just taking a few healing potions, re-breaking a few bones and healing them properly, and sleeping for a long time. The oddest part was that Harry had done just that a few times in the past with far worse injuries.

From that day on Harry was required to have a small snake with him at all times, preferably a small viper or some kind of poisonous type. It was a habit that still stuck with Harry, he seemed to like a small green python though. As a vampire he had venom of his own that would get stronger or weaker as he needed it, so a poisonous snake would have little work. Harry also said that the pythons were just more fun to chat with, more easy going or something. Angél sometimes wished he understood more about the abilities of his odd friend.

Leaning back in his chair, tipping it back on two legs, Angél sighed. Evil was in the air, both sides had histories of blackness. Both sides had reason to be angry and hateful of the other. Dark magic had been used many times in the past to attack, corrupt, and kill. The British wizards had just finished with a very long war not even five years ago with a Dark wizard who was also a madman that corrupted many hearts, and thus created many of the Death Eaters, which was a group Harry was still wary of. The Dark people however had been persecuted for ages, at times treated as slaves or worse. They became the way they were to survive and to escape the killing and slavery. While it was true many of the monsters ate humans, they did so as humans used to eat deer or other game. They only killed to eat or defend, nothing more. It was an endless cycle from what Angél could see. It was the same all over, one act leads to another, and it all ends with God's judgment. But was it really over with that?

The door slammed open and a shocked Father Blanco just managed to grip his desk before he toppled to the floor. A giggling child stood there ready to laugh at him. Angél smiled at the child and he laughed with the girl.

Father, Sister Geneva sent me to get you. A man is here and says he must talk with you. She said. Angél looked up sharply, who was here? He followed her to the annex of the chapel where a robed man with a head of blue hair stood. On his chest was the sign of the Colombian/Venezuelan wizarding military force.

How may I help you, my son? asked Angél. The man looked at him, the face was hard and angry, the blue eyes blazing in unspoken hatred of some shadow in the man's past. It was not an uncommon look among the Dark people who came from Europe, but Angél had never met a non-Dark wizard before.

You and your people are not asking questions of my dress or my badge, yet we have no records of our kind dealing with this area for hundreds of years. Why is that? asked the man. Angél looked at Sister Geneva, silently asking her what they had said. She shrugged, meaning nothing much, the typical offers. Angél smiled.

You must be new here. We a serving mission, we exist to help, not to ask questions. If you wish to tell us anything, we will listen without judgment. It is not our place to judge, that is God's privilege, not for man. Our duty is to help and to guide. So how may we serve you? Angél said with a slight smile to the cold man who seemed to grow colder.

You don't seem to understand why I am here. growled out the wizard. Angél kept his face stoic.

You seem to need to talk. Come with me, let's give the good sister room to finish cleaning this room. Angél said diplomatically. The man nodded and followed Angél out to the courtyard.

The sun was past its zenith in the sky and headed to the horizon. The sky was a brilliant blue with several large cottony white clouds moving overhead. Angél walked through the herb and vegetable gardens, keeping his pace even with the wizard's.

How are you so comfortable with me? No muggle should be. stated the man. Angél gave the man a confused look.

Did I not explain that in the annex? This mission has given help to many different people in it's fifty-six years. Myself included in those who have sought help, and found salvation here in it's walls. Angél said with a smile. The man's face seemed to now be angry with him.

I cast a Revealing Charm over this building from my broom. A large number of spells have been cast within the walls you love, a great many are unmistakably Dark. In fact they are the strongest Dark spells in existence and have been cast over the very room you worship your God in. the man growled. Angél sighed.

We do not just worship out creator in that room. The very world is his altar and our hearts are his chapels. Angél said as he touched a ring on his finger that Janus had given him as a safety. He carefully summoned the right emotions as he let his pinky touch the dark crystal. It would alert the old vampire of danger at the mission, and this was danger of the worst sort. The man was glaring at him, he could feel the icy gaze through his back.

You are changing the subject and you do not ask questions or act as you should. You have been harboring them, haven't you? the man accused Angél.

I have told you we do not ask questions, we do not care about your past. In the end all are equal in God's eyes, and we must strive to treat the world with the same ever-loving attitude. Angél said with conviction. The man smiled and turned to the sky.

he shouted. Down from the sky came a rain of fire, and two score or more of people on broomsticks casting hexes every where.

What are you doing! This is a holy place! Even in the darkest hours none dare to harm this place! shouted Angél at the man who pulled out his wand and leveled it at the priest.

This is a great and glorious war, and you picked the wrong side, muggle. The man's face was twisted in a cruel smirk,

(12:05 pm 27/03/07, Sonia's Southern Scoff, Peace brook Village, Paraguay)

Harry was very late. Over a half-hour late.

Janus sighed as he looked at the folder of reports on the table. It was nothing but bad news, especially for the youngest but most powerful vampire in modern times. He was over four hundred years old, but never had he dealt with this kind of war. If anything he tended to live among the non-magical humans and fought in their wars, which had rules to some extent. Wizarding wars had no rules, no honor codes, no mercy.

With muggles, as the wizards called them, you knew that physics applied to them and that most really hated to spill blood. But wizards had grown callous after the two wars with two mad Dark Lords, both had crushed any hope of ethics in war. While Janus was sure that the codes of honor that the Council had agreed to was good but not too limiting, it was plain that the other side of this war could care less.

It had started with the massacre of the European schools, children and teachers, none could fight. They were as well warded as anyone could do back then, and now even. There had been attacks on small poorly hid villages in Africa just a few weeks ago, but Janus was sure that this was going to be the final straw for the future Dark Emperor.

The vampire sipped at his water, waiting. Brushing his long brown fringe out of his iris-less eyes, he saw Harry enter and spot him. The vampire really was still such a child, Janus hated doing this to him.

Hi, Janus. So what was so important you interrupted the vacation you ordered me to take? asked Harry with a lopsided smile. Janus handed Harry the folder, letting the paper say what needed to be said. Janus set his face in his normal stone-like expression and waited for Harry's emotional outburst.

It was what his teacher would have done if Clarion was still alive. But Clarion the Wise was gone along with many others, it was the byproduct of losing the Slayer- Vampire- Werepeople war. The Slayers were a group of powerful human magi and sorcerers that were taught how to hunt and kill vampires and the werepeople for sport. At first they were ignored as just another sect of humans that would do themselves in, but then, after the innovation of the wand, they became far too good at killing.

It was that war that forced vampire and werepeople to go from blood enemies to deep allies, never to be separated again. It was also the reason the only werepeople left were werewolves. At one time there were werecats, werebirds, werebats, and werebears, the five clans. To Janus it seemed like this was the Slayer war all over again, which was why he had pressured the council to keep the Slayers and Hunters out of the Council, and under heavy watch. Harry's reactions disturbed Janus that day, the child defended the Slayers, especially the girl he greeted. It was like seeing his worst nightmare and he couldn't stop Harry from setting himself up for many painful falls.

Harry was reading the report now. At each act that was described Harry's grip tightened and his irises seemed to grow more red. It was very scary to see one so young act like this, almost like seeing the Devil possess an angel. Harry put down the report after he started to growl.

I'm going to kill them, Janus. Harry said calmly, his eyes now red and burning.

Why? It is war. Wizard wars have never had rules, unlike the rest of the world. Janus stated in an emotionless voice. This served to enrage Harry all the more, the opposite effect that Janus wanted.

I refuse to just let them burn churches and kill the innocent! How dare they! It is just not fair. Harry yelled at the elder vampire. Janus didn't flinch or move. He just looked on as passively as he could.

If you wanted to, you could start killing like they do. Schools, churches and shrines, market places. Obviously, it would be the best way to get revenge.

My vendetta is not against the innocent. I will not drag more children in to our battles, not like them. Harry snarled. Janus took a sip of his water. Harry was shaking in anger still, it was amazing the child was this out of control of his emotions and yet so influential among the cold hearted that marched under the same banners. Harry narrowed his eyes at his teacher, You let this happen. You let them destroy Angel of Mercy. I know you gave Angél a signal ring, you knew, he had to have signaled you. Why didn't you save them or call me. You know I keep my cell phone on and with me at all times. Harry accused. Janus glared at Harry. The old vampire had more patience with the child than should be possible, but to suggest such an honorless act was the lowest blow.

Don't you dare accuse me of ignoring him. I have put up with your disrespect, your foolish behavior, and childish demands. Never have I once complained. I have stood by you, given you the best guidance in most matters. I have never betrayed you. I have never challenged you for the control, which was something I should have done the moment I felt you live. You speak of matters that you know nothing about, and accuse me of letting them destroy a haven. You would be dead if it weren't for me. Janus said in a quiet deadly voice. Harry at least had the decency to look ashamed.

I'm sorry. You are more than right. Harry mumbled as he studied his hands. Janus sighed.

I was helpless in this case. It was a very well done attack. By the time I arrived there was not one left alive. I burned the bodies and sent a few prayers to the gods, but I did put Father Blanco's body in that crypt in the chapel. I left the buildings up, the ones that still stood. You may go visit, but only at night; you must take a few guns, as well. Janus said and he stood to leave. Harry stood up as well.

I'm sorry I'm such an ungrateful jerk. Harry said, his eyes were light green again. Janus nodded and walked out, leaving Harry to foot his lunch bill. Sure it wasn't a nice thing to do to a kid who just lost a friend like that, but it might teach the child a thing or two about being on time.


To Be Continued . . .