Disclaimer: This is so pointless, of COURSE I don't own Harry Potter. Ugh.
This chapter contains some 'vampire language' mind you I did not make it up. Anyway, it belongs to its respectful owners ect ect. I wrote down the meaning after the sentence, its in the ***authors notes***
James Potter held his fathers hand tightly, clinging to the dark-haired mans coat as well. "Daddy?" Talaenar looked down and smiled softly. "Yes son?"
"Wh-where are we going?" he gulped.
That night had been terrifying for everyone. Aisslin kept James upstairs during the whole fight and he fell asleep in his mother's arms. She carried him down to his father when Koemah had retreated in defeat. It was horrible. Blood littered the ground from those who were not so lucky as the tall and beautiful shifter queen. Raine and Evaleryn had been barley alive, cradled softly by their loved ones. Soon after Aisslin had ordered James to leave. For his safety. He refused. His mother was there, even if she wasn't as normal, she WAS there and he had to stay with her. But the sad look on that reborn vampires face showed clearly that this was not an option, and days later he found himself off on a journey with his father and Crow.
"We are going to go see a uhm... er... acquaintance of your mother." Talaenar answered quietly. "She said he'd know what to do." James stopped dead in his tracks and jerked his hand from his father. "HE'D know what to do? Don't you know what to do? I mean you're the bloody king of vam-" Crow clamped a strong hand over his nephews mouth and pulled him aside from the curious onlookers.
"James. Now you listen here. These are... well their muggle folk-"
"Muggle?" Father and son asked in unison. "Yes. Muggle... non-magic, non- vampire, non... they're rather dull people with no knowledge of the reality of things really. I mean there is a few muggles who-"
"Get to the point brother." The tall man snapped. "Yes, right Talon. Anyhow James, they would freak out if they knew about our kind. They don't want to know, they refuse and if they did find out, we would be battling them as well as other vamps." He finished his lecture before grabbing the boy's hand and walking along the street as if nothing had happened. James shook his head in confusion. Not one bit of that made sense but he didn't feel like arguing at the moment. 'Mum said I should go, so go I will'
**** Not far away in an underground dungeon of sorts ****
"Sir. Someone here to see you." A tall cloaked figure nodded silently and his messenger scampered out of the cold and dark chamber. The walls were lined with silver snakeheads and intricate patterned designs. There were at least a dozen hidden passages concealed in those walls that would surely fling you to your death. As for the cloaked man, he was consumed in a green robe, dark as the very darkest green was. A snake slithered over his shoulders and into the green comfort, to be shielded from an intruder's eye. This man, he sat on a throne, fit for him, nothing less than evil looking. Spikes rose from the top and two large snakes guarded the bottom, by his large booted feet. It was made of marble and elegant stone, quite comfortable for the material.
The door opened with a creaking noise and an intimidating form emerged. It was a woman with white hair and pale gray eyes. Her skin was rather white as well. She wore a metal top, or so it seemed. The silver material didn't leave much to the imagination. Her hips were draped in leather that looked almost painted on. But over that she wore a dark robe with a skull on the very back.
"And to what do I owe this honor m'lady?" the dark man asked in amusement at her angered look. "Sir I ask to join you." He raised his eyes in mock surprise and then nodded solemnly. "That's all my lord?" she asked in astonishment. His dark eyes glinted at her.
"Yes. I see you are a strong fighter... Miss Koemah Wolfborn."
**** ****
James Lomion Potter sat quietly in a overly cluttered waiting room with his uncle. His father had just been called into see the headmaster of some school. The little boy wanted to cry. He wanted to be with his mother. He wanted to go home. Crow felt the small child's sadness radiate off him in waves and sat down next to his nephew putting a comforting arm around him. And James lost it. He jumped onto his uncles lap, buried his face in the mans black silk shirt and began crying. "Lomion." James looked up, he had never been called by his middle name by anyone other than Aisslin. Now she was dead and only he could see her.
"Lomion." Crow repeated at the boy's quietness. "Did your mother ever tell you what that means?"
"No."
"Hm." Crow chuckled lightly. "It is your name as prince of Vampires. Lomion, it means son of twilight." James cocked his head to the side "Oh."
"Yes. And Talaenar is the God of twilight, so it runs down the family line."
"And Ashar? Of what does his name mean?"
"He is Spirit." The two caught each other's eyes and simply stared. For the life of him Crow could not understand how one little mortal boy had come to be not only a part of a vampire clan, but the very PRINCE of vampires. James on the other hand was trying to figure out how so much pain could be reflected in eyes so brilliantly bright and how anyone could possible have eyes that color. He smiled inside and snuggled closer to his uncle, reveling in the warmth. "Den'shrai Crow-daro."
** author note: James just said "Thank you for helping me uncle crow." **
Talaenar sat uncomfortably in a, what should have been very comfortable chair. The office in which he sat was cluttered and untidy, nothing like he was used to. The shelves were piled with books and papers as well as other odd things. Picture frames hung on the walls; they held the photos of old witches and wizards from the past the vampire assumed. What got him was the fact that they moved. Not only that, they talked to each other as well, occasionally disappearing from one frame only to pop out in the next. It seemed as if he was surrounded and no normal vampire would find that reassuring.
A quill made from a very elegant feather zoomed its way across the desk before him, magically jotting things down on a piece of parchment. It would pause every few seconds to dip itself into a bottle of ink then continue on its work. Another thing that caught his eye were the paper piles all around the room. They were sorting themselves. He shifted anxiously in his seat, hoping someone would come out of SOMEWHERE and tell him he was hallucinating. This was all a figment of his imagination.
A door opened and he sighed gratefully. "I am terribly sorry to have kept you." An older looking man sat down in the chair behind the paper-strewn desk. He was thin, but not frail. His beard was rather silverish and somewhat long as well as his hair. The man had spectacles that kept falling down his nose as he peered kindly at the man before him, his eyes twinkled so much it was giving the vampire king the shivers. But somehow he knew, deep down, this man could be trusted. "No problem." Talaenar answered offhandedly. The silence, Dumbledoor could see, was very frightening to this particular man so he continued hastily. "I am Albus Dumbledoor. Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."
"Nice to meet you Sir." Talon took the mans offered hand and shook it lightly. "My name is-"
"Talaenar Potter. And you are here to discuss the well being of the young man out in the waiting room. Aisslin told me you would be coming soon." The dark haired man asked no questions about his wife. "Yes. He is in need of... shelter."
"Does he not have a home?"
"He is my son! Of course he has a home." Potter bristled angrily. "I just can no longer protect him." He finished with a more quiet tone. "I see." Dumbledoor looked solemnly at the vampire "I understand. No more questions will be asked about his past life and I can assure you that he will be well taken care of."
"What about... I mean, isn't he too young?"
"Yes, but he will be temporarily staying with a family whom I have known for quite some time. Shall we go meet them?"
"Now?" the old man smiled and the hesitant question. "Yes." Talon nodded and followed the headmaster out to where James had fallen asleep in Crow's arms. At his brothers questioning look Talon answered gravely "Faladar Lomion Desh'Miriai."
*** author note: Last sentence: "It's happening. Lomion is being sent away for some one else to guard." ***
This chapter contains some 'vampire language' mind you I did not make it up. Anyway, it belongs to its respectful owners ect ect. I wrote down the meaning after the sentence, its in the ***authors notes***
James Potter held his fathers hand tightly, clinging to the dark-haired mans coat as well. "Daddy?" Talaenar looked down and smiled softly. "Yes son?"
"Wh-where are we going?" he gulped.
That night had been terrifying for everyone. Aisslin kept James upstairs during the whole fight and he fell asleep in his mother's arms. She carried him down to his father when Koemah had retreated in defeat. It was horrible. Blood littered the ground from those who were not so lucky as the tall and beautiful shifter queen. Raine and Evaleryn had been barley alive, cradled softly by their loved ones. Soon after Aisslin had ordered James to leave. For his safety. He refused. His mother was there, even if she wasn't as normal, she WAS there and he had to stay with her. But the sad look on that reborn vampires face showed clearly that this was not an option, and days later he found himself off on a journey with his father and Crow.
"We are going to go see a uhm... er... acquaintance of your mother." Talaenar answered quietly. "She said he'd know what to do." James stopped dead in his tracks and jerked his hand from his father. "HE'D know what to do? Don't you know what to do? I mean you're the bloody king of vam-" Crow clamped a strong hand over his nephews mouth and pulled him aside from the curious onlookers.
"James. Now you listen here. These are... well their muggle folk-"
"Muggle?" Father and son asked in unison. "Yes. Muggle... non-magic, non- vampire, non... they're rather dull people with no knowledge of the reality of things really. I mean there is a few muggles who-"
"Get to the point brother." The tall man snapped. "Yes, right Talon. Anyhow James, they would freak out if they knew about our kind. They don't want to know, they refuse and if they did find out, we would be battling them as well as other vamps." He finished his lecture before grabbing the boy's hand and walking along the street as if nothing had happened. James shook his head in confusion. Not one bit of that made sense but he didn't feel like arguing at the moment. 'Mum said I should go, so go I will'
**** Not far away in an underground dungeon of sorts ****
"Sir. Someone here to see you." A tall cloaked figure nodded silently and his messenger scampered out of the cold and dark chamber. The walls were lined with silver snakeheads and intricate patterned designs. There were at least a dozen hidden passages concealed in those walls that would surely fling you to your death. As for the cloaked man, he was consumed in a green robe, dark as the very darkest green was. A snake slithered over his shoulders and into the green comfort, to be shielded from an intruder's eye. This man, he sat on a throne, fit for him, nothing less than evil looking. Spikes rose from the top and two large snakes guarded the bottom, by his large booted feet. It was made of marble and elegant stone, quite comfortable for the material.
The door opened with a creaking noise and an intimidating form emerged. It was a woman with white hair and pale gray eyes. Her skin was rather white as well. She wore a metal top, or so it seemed. The silver material didn't leave much to the imagination. Her hips were draped in leather that looked almost painted on. But over that she wore a dark robe with a skull on the very back.
"And to what do I owe this honor m'lady?" the dark man asked in amusement at her angered look. "Sir I ask to join you." He raised his eyes in mock surprise and then nodded solemnly. "That's all my lord?" she asked in astonishment. His dark eyes glinted at her.
"Yes. I see you are a strong fighter... Miss Koemah Wolfborn."
**** ****
James Lomion Potter sat quietly in a overly cluttered waiting room with his uncle. His father had just been called into see the headmaster of some school. The little boy wanted to cry. He wanted to be with his mother. He wanted to go home. Crow felt the small child's sadness radiate off him in waves and sat down next to his nephew putting a comforting arm around him. And James lost it. He jumped onto his uncles lap, buried his face in the mans black silk shirt and began crying. "Lomion." James looked up, he had never been called by his middle name by anyone other than Aisslin. Now she was dead and only he could see her.
"Lomion." Crow repeated at the boy's quietness. "Did your mother ever tell you what that means?"
"No."
"Hm." Crow chuckled lightly. "It is your name as prince of Vampires. Lomion, it means son of twilight." James cocked his head to the side "Oh."
"Yes. And Talaenar is the God of twilight, so it runs down the family line."
"And Ashar? Of what does his name mean?"
"He is Spirit." The two caught each other's eyes and simply stared. For the life of him Crow could not understand how one little mortal boy had come to be not only a part of a vampire clan, but the very PRINCE of vampires. James on the other hand was trying to figure out how so much pain could be reflected in eyes so brilliantly bright and how anyone could possible have eyes that color. He smiled inside and snuggled closer to his uncle, reveling in the warmth. "Den'shrai Crow-daro."
** author note: James just said "Thank you for helping me uncle crow." **
Talaenar sat uncomfortably in a, what should have been very comfortable chair. The office in which he sat was cluttered and untidy, nothing like he was used to. The shelves were piled with books and papers as well as other odd things. Picture frames hung on the walls; they held the photos of old witches and wizards from the past the vampire assumed. What got him was the fact that they moved. Not only that, they talked to each other as well, occasionally disappearing from one frame only to pop out in the next. It seemed as if he was surrounded and no normal vampire would find that reassuring.
A quill made from a very elegant feather zoomed its way across the desk before him, magically jotting things down on a piece of parchment. It would pause every few seconds to dip itself into a bottle of ink then continue on its work. Another thing that caught his eye were the paper piles all around the room. They were sorting themselves. He shifted anxiously in his seat, hoping someone would come out of SOMEWHERE and tell him he was hallucinating. This was all a figment of his imagination.
A door opened and he sighed gratefully. "I am terribly sorry to have kept you." An older looking man sat down in the chair behind the paper-strewn desk. He was thin, but not frail. His beard was rather silverish and somewhat long as well as his hair. The man had spectacles that kept falling down his nose as he peered kindly at the man before him, his eyes twinkled so much it was giving the vampire king the shivers. But somehow he knew, deep down, this man could be trusted. "No problem." Talaenar answered offhandedly. The silence, Dumbledoor could see, was very frightening to this particular man so he continued hastily. "I am Albus Dumbledoor. Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."
"Nice to meet you Sir." Talon took the mans offered hand and shook it lightly. "My name is-"
"Talaenar Potter. And you are here to discuss the well being of the young man out in the waiting room. Aisslin told me you would be coming soon." The dark haired man asked no questions about his wife. "Yes. He is in need of... shelter."
"Does he not have a home?"
"He is my son! Of course he has a home." Potter bristled angrily. "I just can no longer protect him." He finished with a more quiet tone. "I see." Dumbledoor looked solemnly at the vampire "I understand. No more questions will be asked about his past life and I can assure you that he will be well taken care of."
"What about... I mean, isn't he too young?"
"Yes, but he will be temporarily staying with a family whom I have known for quite some time. Shall we go meet them?"
"Now?" the old man smiled and the hesitant question. "Yes." Talon nodded and followed the headmaster out to where James had fallen asleep in Crow's arms. At his brothers questioning look Talon answered gravely "Faladar Lomion Desh'Miriai."
*** author note: Last sentence: "It's happening. Lomion is being sent away for some one else to guard." ***