I know I usually wait for everyone to review before I update, but I don't think anyone noticed that I took the author's note down and there is an actual chapter instead. Oh well. If they're reading this now, then they'll be reading that soon, I suppose. Chapter 6 seemed a little... Anne Rice- isk. Did anyone else think that or was it just me? Oh well.
Disclaimer: I own no one or nothing from the Harry Potter books. They all belong to J. K. Rowling and I am not writing this for any financial gain whatsoever. Just for the reviews. Which are fun.
The Beginning
Harry looked around as he walked down the hallway once more. Hope wasn't with him this time. It seemed like it had become routine for Sirius and her to have a fight first thing in the morning. They always roused everyone from their beds. If it was attention they were looking to get with these little spats, they were sure getting it. Mrs. Weasley was positively fed up with the two of them, and simply washed her hands of the whole thing.
"Useless," she had said. "Comepletely useless. They were such lovebirds during school, then I guess they finally realized they were too much alike to get along, and they've been this way ever since."
"But what happened," Harry asked.
"No one is sure," Mrs. Weasley had said.
So, once more, they were fighting. Harry could still hear them as he headed away from the breakfast room. This time, the fight was over the jam. Who had reached for it first? 'Who really cares,' Harry thought. They just looked for every excuse they could to fight.
The young boy stopped to look at the tapestry once more. Hope's family's coat of arms. There was a small fortune spun into the heavy black velvet of this tapestry. It certainly was beautiful. Harry glanced around. He was alone in the hallway. He looked up at the cloth once more.
The red, shiny ruby in the shape of a drop seemed to beckon his touch. His hand raised as if of its own accord. 'Don't,' said a voice in Harry's head. 'Don't touch it! Don't, whatever you do, just don't!' Harry's hand, however, had different ideas than what his mind screamed. A single finger reached out and stroked the ruby.
"Ow!" He jerked his hand back in surprise before popping his finger in his mouth. The ruby had burned him! Something was odd here.... He reached out again.
Suddenly, in a rush of wind, everything was tainted in red. The world around Harry was spinning. He was no longer in Teardrop Manor. He was standing outside, the sun was shinning a beautiful gold. There was something different, though. This was not his time. No, most certainly not. Everything looked... old-timey.
A carriage pulled up, drawn by two large black horses. The driver surveyed the scene with a keen eye. He didn't seem to notice Harry. The butler who opened the large doors of the house behind Harry didn't seem to notice him either. In fact, the only living things that did seem to notice him were the horses. They eyed him nervously, stomping their hooves.
A footman rushed foward and opened the carriage door. A woman, dressed in a gown reminicent of a movie Harry had seen by the name of Braveheart, her blonde head held low, stepped out, assissted by the footman. A man followed her out, then waved the servant away. He took the woman by her elbow and escorted her up the steps.
"Welcome, madam," he said rather coldly, "to your new home. This is where you will stay. Do not leave this manor. Have I made myself clear?" There was a mummbled reply. The man roughly turned the woman's face up so he could look down into her eyes.
She was a delicate little woman. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back in ringlets and curls. Her pale skin shone in the sunlight. She raised sapphire-blue eyes to look at the man. Harry's breath caught in his throat. This woman, were she not blonde, could have been Hope's twin.
"I said, did I make myself clear?!"
"Yes, sir," she said softly.
"Good. You are on the right road to making your new husband proud." The man bent, kissed her hand lightly, then went back to the carriage and drove off, leaving the woman alone in the care of the servants.
The red washed over him again and Harry was suddenly in the large manor. It looked so familiar, but he couldn't place it. He walked down the long hallway, darkness surrounding him. There were soft sobs coming from a room just ahead of him. The door was slightly open, casting a warm glow from under it.
"Go ahead, you little whore," said a deep and familiar voice. "Cry. That is all you ever do. Cry and cry and cry. No wonder you insisted on naming this Teardrop Manor. One day, your tears shall flood this manor and drown you. Perhaps you will be happy then."
The door swung open and out strode the man who had been in the carriage. He looked a few years older, and even madder than the last time. Harry moved out of his way, though the man took no notice of him. The sounds of weeping became even louder as the man left. Harry looked in the room. There was the small blonde woman, sitting on the floor, weeping. A maid was knelt by her side.
"Tell me, mes enfante," the maid whispered in a thick french accent.
"He found out, Migont," sobbed the blonde. "He knows about Julian... He knows I'm with child..."
Again, the scene faded, only to be replaced by the red. Sound was the first thing to register this time. A woman was screaming. People were rushing around, all nervous, then the cries of a baby joined the din of noise.
"It's a boy," someone yelled.
As if someone had turned on the television, he could see everything. The blonde woman was laying in the bed, holding a small child. He moved closer to inspect it. A mop of dark curls adorned it's head, the skin was a creamy white, and attentive blue eyes sweeped around to look at everyone. The woman dismissed the maids, saying she wanted to be alone with her new son.
"I have a son," a soft voice from the shadows said. A tall man, his black hair in a curly fashion much like the baby's, stepped out into the candlelight. Harry could plainly tell that this man was a vampire.
"Yes." The woman smiled up at him. "A son. What a beautiful little boy..."
"Who would have ever thought... you a witch, and I a vampire..." Here he bent and kissed the child's forehead. It cooed in delight.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Everything went dark. It felt as if he was falling back into his body. When he looked up, he was staring into the eyes of one very angry looking Hope. Unconsciously, he gulped.
"In the habit of touching other people's things," Hope asked.
"I was just... who were those people...?"
"So, you saw them, did you? You really are the one..." She smiled a little. "Those were my ancestors. The blonde woman was named Camille Underwood. She was forced into marriage to Niall Miller. He wasn't a nice man, Master Potter. Camille, however, found comfort elsewhere. Julian Moon was a vampie, Camille a witch. They had a baby, a little boy named Eli. This was the start of my family.
"As Eli grew, they found he was only half vampire, and could venture into the daylight. This was an advantage to young Eli. He was, however, shunned by both wizards and vampires alike. He was a halfbreed and therefore considered dirt. He was forced to watch as both of his parents were executed, Julian tied down in the sunlight, Camille burned at the stake. And yes, Mister Potter, that did work on Camille. After that, Eli became determined. He slayed the ones who killed his parents, won some lands, and then the Moons flourished. Despite his efforts, however, we are still looked down upon. Espically because of our feeding habits."
"Feeding habits," Harry asked.
"Oh yes," said Hope. "We are only halfbreeds, so we don't drink blood. What we do is suck nutrients from the body, leaving behind a raisin-like corpse."
Harry felt his stomach turn. That was so disgusting. He watched as Hope looked at the coat of arms for a moment, then went down the hallway and back to the breakfast room.
Disclaimer: I own no one or nothing from the Harry Potter books. They all belong to J. K. Rowling and I am not writing this for any financial gain whatsoever. Just for the reviews. Which are fun.
The Beginning
Harry looked around as he walked down the hallway once more. Hope wasn't with him this time. It seemed like it had become routine for Sirius and her to have a fight first thing in the morning. They always roused everyone from their beds. If it was attention they were looking to get with these little spats, they were sure getting it. Mrs. Weasley was positively fed up with the two of them, and simply washed her hands of the whole thing.
"Useless," she had said. "Comepletely useless. They were such lovebirds during school, then I guess they finally realized they were too much alike to get along, and they've been this way ever since."
"But what happened," Harry asked.
"No one is sure," Mrs. Weasley had said.
So, once more, they were fighting. Harry could still hear them as he headed away from the breakfast room. This time, the fight was over the jam. Who had reached for it first? 'Who really cares,' Harry thought. They just looked for every excuse they could to fight.
The young boy stopped to look at the tapestry once more. Hope's family's coat of arms. There was a small fortune spun into the heavy black velvet of this tapestry. It certainly was beautiful. Harry glanced around. He was alone in the hallway. He looked up at the cloth once more.
The red, shiny ruby in the shape of a drop seemed to beckon his touch. His hand raised as if of its own accord. 'Don't,' said a voice in Harry's head. 'Don't touch it! Don't, whatever you do, just don't!' Harry's hand, however, had different ideas than what his mind screamed. A single finger reached out and stroked the ruby.
"Ow!" He jerked his hand back in surprise before popping his finger in his mouth. The ruby had burned him! Something was odd here.... He reached out again.
Suddenly, in a rush of wind, everything was tainted in red. The world around Harry was spinning. He was no longer in Teardrop Manor. He was standing outside, the sun was shinning a beautiful gold. There was something different, though. This was not his time. No, most certainly not. Everything looked... old-timey.
A carriage pulled up, drawn by two large black horses. The driver surveyed the scene with a keen eye. He didn't seem to notice Harry. The butler who opened the large doors of the house behind Harry didn't seem to notice him either. In fact, the only living things that did seem to notice him were the horses. They eyed him nervously, stomping their hooves.
A footman rushed foward and opened the carriage door. A woman, dressed in a gown reminicent of a movie Harry had seen by the name of Braveheart, her blonde head held low, stepped out, assissted by the footman. A man followed her out, then waved the servant away. He took the woman by her elbow and escorted her up the steps.
"Welcome, madam," he said rather coldly, "to your new home. This is where you will stay. Do not leave this manor. Have I made myself clear?" There was a mummbled reply. The man roughly turned the woman's face up so he could look down into her eyes.
She was a delicate little woman. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back in ringlets and curls. Her pale skin shone in the sunlight. She raised sapphire-blue eyes to look at the man. Harry's breath caught in his throat. This woman, were she not blonde, could have been Hope's twin.
"I said, did I make myself clear?!"
"Yes, sir," she said softly.
"Good. You are on the right road to making your new husband proud." The man bent, kissed her hand lightly, then went back to the carriage and drove off, leaving the woman alone in the care of the servants.
The red washed over him again and Harry was suddenly in the large manor. It looked so familiar, but he couldn't place it. He walked down the long hallway, darkness surrounding him. There were soft sobs coming from a room just ahead of him. The door was slightly open, casting a warm glow from under it.
"Go ahead, you little whore," said a deep and familiar voice. "Cry. That is all you ever do. Cry and cry and cry. No wonder you insisted on naming this Teardrop Manor. One day, your tears shall flood this manor and drown you. Perhaps you will be happy then."
The door swung open and out strode the man who had been in the carriage. He looked a few years older, and even madder than the last time. Harry moved out of his way, though the man took no notice of him. The sounds of weeping became even louder as the man left. Harry looked in the room. There was the small blonde woman, sitting on the floor, weeping. A maid was knelt by her side.
"Tell me, mes enfante," the maid whispered in a thick french accent.
"He found out, Migont," sobbed the blonde. "He knows about Julian... He knows I'm with child..."
Again, the scene faded, only to be replaced by the red. Sound was the first thing to register this time. A woman was screaming. People were rushing around, all nervous, then the cries of a baby joined the din of noise.
"It's a boy," someone yelled.
As if someone had turned on the television, he could see everything. The blonde woman was laying in the bed, holding a small child. He moved closer to inspect it. A mop of dark curls adorned it's head, the skin was a creamy white, and attentive blue eyes sweeped around to look at everyone. The woman dismissed the maids, saying she wanted to be alone with her new son.
"I have a son," a soft voice from the shadows said. A tall man, his black hair in a curly fashion much like the baby's, stepped out into the candlelight. Harry could plainly tell that this man was a vampire.
"Yes." The woman smiled up at him. "A son. What a beautiful little boy..."
"Who would have ever thought... you a witch, and I a vampire..." Here he bent and kissed the child's forehead. It cooed in delight.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Everything went dark. It felt as if he was falling back into his body. When he looked up, he was staring into the eyes of one very angry looking Hope. Unconsciously, he gulped.
"In the habit of touching other people's things," Hope asked.
"I was just... who were those people...?"
"So, you saw them, did you? You really are the one..." She smiled a little. "Those were my ancestors. The blonde woman was named Camille Underwood. She was forced into marriage to Niall Miller. He wasn't a nice man, Master Potter. Camille, however, found comfort elsewhere. Julian Moon was a vampie, Camille a witch. They had a baby, a little boy named Eli. This was the start of my family.
"As Eli grew, they found he was only half vampire, and could venture into the daylight. This was an advantage to young Eli. He was, however, shunned by both wizards and vampires alike. He was a halfbreed and therefore considered dirt. He was forced to watch as both of his parents were executed, Julian tied down in the sunlight, Camille burned at the stake. And yes, Mister Potter, that did work on Camille. After that, Eli became determined. He slayed the ones who killed his parents, won some lands, and then the Moons flourished. Despite his efforts, however, we are still looked down upon. Espically because of our feeding habits."
"Feeding habits," Harry asked.
"Oh yes," said Hope. "We are only halfbreeds, so we don't drink blood. What we do is suck nutrients from the body, leaving behind a raisin-like corpse."
Harry felt his stomach turn. That was so disgusting. He watched as Hope looked at the coat of arms for a moment, then went down the hallway and back to the breakfast room.