Chapter 6
That afternoon Harry invited us to come down to the Quidditich pitch.
Dusk was falling and no longer did summer spread her wings, but was
replaced with her colder sister autumn. I finally arrived, slightly
disheveled and extremely sweaty. I hurried on to the field. Wooden
towers loomed covered with their teams' colors around the area where
the spectators, I supposed, would watch the sport. Hermione was
sitting in one of the lower stands next to one of the goal posts.
"Where have you been? It's almost seven!" she yelled
"So, I'm slightly late. Your point?" I said perturbed
"You were supposed to be here an hour ago!"
"Let's just say I had a little hold up."
By hold up I meant Filch who had caught me sprinting down the hall
and, had blessed me out; then threatened to turn me in to Dumbledore
for disruptive behavior. He definitely has some issues!
"Where's Harry?"
"Well just look up," she indicated with her finger. I looked up. Above
us were seven blurs weaving in and out the bleachers and around the
goal posts. Suddenly they descended on the command of Harry. They
softly alighted on the grass; causing a soft wind to swirl up a cloud
of sand and dust.
"Great practice!" Harry congratulated the team, "Um, I guess same time
tomorrow? See ya' guys later!"
Harry and Ron jogged over from the huddle.
"Did you see me ace that bludger? I could've knocked half of the
Slytherin team right off their brooms!" Ron bragged
"Uh Harry, when's your first game?" Hermione asked
"Tomorrow against Hufflepuff. I think it will be an easy win, but were
still not prepared enough for the Slytherin team."
Our foursome headed back up to the castle. I walked behind the others
who were chattering cheerfully. What is the point of small talk? I
mean all it does is take up breath and time. It has no point. Why
don't people think before they speak? Silence is clear, untarnished,
perfection; not this mindless racket.
After working for several hours on a seemingly endless paper for my
class in muggle relations I put aside the scrolls and sighed. I am so
tired. I hate working this long, being locked up in a building all
day, and most of all following their idiotic rules. I mean what's
wrong with smoking in the lavatory? This whole place is made of stone
it's not like you can burn it down! And these damn uniforms... ugh. I
went into the bathroom planning to take a shower. I had only started
taking off my socks when it turned deathly cold in the room. My breath
hung suspended in the chilled air; clouding the bathroom's mirror. I
shivered as I watched letters drawn by an invisible hand emerge on the
mirror.
"I... see... you," I read.
"Whose there?!" I screamed, "Stop tormenting me! Show yourself!"
As I watched two brilliant red eyes appeared in the mirror as if it
were a portal to another realm.
"Are you sure you want to see my true face?" echoed a raspy voice
"Close your eyes!" Commanded a fast moving body that pushed me away
from the mirror which I heard shattering the minute I tumbled out of
the room. Then the same figure ran out the room but stumbled over me
and we both went rolling down the few stairs that led to the common
room. I landed on top of it, but for the first few seconds was
slightly too stunned to make any moves. It's breathing. I then
cautiously lifted myself off of the mass and backed away quickly. The
person (or at least I thought it was) rolled over then, spotting me,
vaulted backward where he perched on one of the cushy armchairs. We
watched each other. For the first time I realized it was a boy. He was
wearing black velvet robes with red satin trim and matching waist ban
and head cloak. His skin was a ghostly white and his eyes a crystal
silver. Greasy tendrils of hair strung over his eyes; although not
thick enough to hide his sharply structured jaw and slender mouth.
It's the boy, but how? Snape looks exactly like him. Are they related?
"Who are you?" I demanded. Silence. "Speak!"
"Temper, temper. I just saved your life. But if you insist; I am an
angel from hell. Snatched from the arms of his mother and thrown into
a sea of torment..." he spoke softly. He sat hunched like a dog and had
begun to lick a deep cut along his wrist.
"Stop with the riddles and give me your name!"
"Why should I give you my name when you're not even sure of who you
yourself are?" he mocked, "But I see you won't tolerate any more of my
games. I am Canis to my people, but since you are not of my kind you
will call my Dameon."
"Your kind? You are a human just like me! What are you playing!?"
"No. I am of an ancient race. To you they are known as Vampyres."
"So you're the one whose been here every night. What have you been
doing? Waiting till I was asleep so you could suck me dry?"
"Quite the opposite. I have been watching over you... as a guardian.
That thing, you just witnessed, was a demon sent by the dark lord...
Voldemort." When he spoke that name I could feel my hair spike on end
although I knew not why. That name... those eyes. Why do I feel such
loathing for them? I don't even know who he is.
"You want to know who he is? He read my thoughts! Yes, I know what you
think, so there's no reason in trying to hide anything from me. But
anyways, Voldemort was the creature; partly man who had been consumed
by a lust for power and became the extremity of evil. He killed
innocents, ravaged the country, and placed fear into the hearts of all
wizards. Then one fateful night Voldemort came to a house to perform a
routine killing only to be destroyed when his spell of death turned on
him. The one he had been attempting to kill was just a baby, but was
protected greatly by his mother's love and therefore could not be
harmed. That child is your friend, Harry Potter. Ever since that night
the dark lord has been trying to find ways to return to power, last
year he finally succeeded. This is where you come in. Your silver
cuff... come here." I inched cautiously towards him. I was without a
weapon, but still prepared to defend myself if this "vampyre" got
frisky (it you get my drift). He gently took my wrist in his hand.
With his index finger he traced a line up the center of the cuff.
Where his finger touched a clasp appeared. Then he pried the silver
armlet apart. There on the inside of my wrist was the remnant of a
brand that had been siered into my skin. It was shaped like a
shepard's crook.
"This is the mark of Escryed. Throughout the centuries, vampyres have
traced the carrier of a special trait by branding the owner with this
mark. Ones with this mark control the power to bring forth lost souls
from a mysterious portal. When the dark lord's legion fell many of his
strongest and closest allies were imprisoned in this gateway; to
slumber in suspended animation until one with this mark, such as
yourself, can enter to free them from their tomb. This portal has been
protected by the centaurs, but recently was taken to the Department of
Mysteries for safe keeping. Now the dark lord wishes to revive his
companions... and you are the key to that doorway. So, he has sent his
demons over the world to find you."
"Then why didn't you just kill me? I mean wouldn't that eliminate the
problem completely?"
"The dark lord knows powers of regeneration. If I killed you he could
easily turn you into what I am... a vampyre. Then he would have complete
control over your mind and body. Also, when you become a vampyre your
power relating to the portal increases, and when your control enhances
so does that of those caught inside the portal. So killing you
wouldn't be very beneficial... would it? I must go now, but I will I'll
be in touch soon. Whether you like it or not you've become the hunted,
and although I offer my protection danger will still present itself to
you. Take care child." He hopped down from the chair and strode to an
open window.
"Dameon, wait!" I called out to him. He slowly turned; his dark hair
swaying in the midnight wind, "I had dreams... of you, but you were
older. And you look exactly like, my professor, and... and you were
killing people... I don't know, but I was wondering..."
"Some things need to remain concealed, just for now." Then he stepped
into the window sill and lept out of the window. I ran and looked out
of the porthole, but the shadows melded together; concealing his
position.
I leaned against the wall. So I have to be afraid where ever I go.
This isn't fair! My life was fine. My moral standards may have been a
little off, but I didn't have to be worried about some maniac chasing
me. I slid down the wall and covered my face with my hands. I don't
want to have special powers or be a witch. Why can't I just be normal?
I hate this! That night I dreamed again. I was standing on a turret
overlooking a large field. Sun beams illuminated the lake and the
trees swayed in tune to the birds' symphony. Is this Hogwarts? Then a
ominous clouds blanketed the sun's face; dampening the light. The wood
sprung to life with flame; animals ran in all directions, screaming as
there home disintegrated. Below on the once bountiful meadow was a
gory sight that revolted me. Bodies of the school's students lay
mutilated; some still writhing with the pain of their injuries. Blood
had dyed the grass a rust tone till none of the grass's greenish tint
remained. I shook in horror. Then a bony hand grabbed the back of my
neck, wrenching me backwards. I tried to free myself from the clammy
hand, but was harnessed in that position as if by a collar. In my
peripheral vision I saw the same two glowing crimson eyes. Then my
captor began to laugh demonically. My anger over flowed. I began to
scraped and clawed against his grip, but to know avail.
"Wake up Raven! Wake up! It's me Hermione!" I continued to struggle
against her grasp until I opened my eyes and saw her familiar face
framed in the morning light.
"They were all dead! They were all dead!" I cried out hysterically.
"It was just a dream, Raven. Don't worry, you're safe now." She
reassured me. I shakily exhaled.
"Calm down. Everything's all right," she said soothingly.
"What happened? I heard someone screaming." It was Ron followed by
Harry. Both had just gotten out of bed and their hair was amusingly
messy, as well as their wrinkled pajamas.
"Nothing," I answered slowly.
"Alright," Ron yawned, "See you guys at breakfast."
Hermione turned to me, "Raven... something was wrong wasn't it? I mean
you kept saying 'they're all dead' and when I tried to wake you up you
kept trying to fight me off. I've never seen someone so afraid."
"Hermione... it was nothing."
"Ok, but..." she was still staring in disbelief. I rolled my eyes.
"I said I'm fine!" I don't want to lie to you Hermione, but this is my
problem I must deal with it on my own.
I sat silently at the breakfast table. Suddenly the daily stream of
owls came screeching into the hall. The owls flew about in circles
before diving to where their masters sat. The fluttering cloud then
separated and a larger bird swooped over the tables and landed
directly in front of me. It ruffled its sleek feathers proudly. It was
an ebony osprey. The osprey softly nibbled my hand to indicate the
letter it was carrying. I untied the parchment from its leg and read: Dear Raven,
It was nice to meet you last night. This osprey's is named Farris. He will be our communication. I also need to send you a warning. Your scarred knight will fall today. Stay close to him. He will need your strength to survive.
-Dameon
"Hey is that your bird?" asked Harry. I looked up and met his
brilliant green eyes, and his... scar. The scarred knight. Is Harry who
Dameon was talking about? He does have a scar.
"Yes," I finally answered.
"He's very beautiful," Harry complimented. Those same sad eyes. So,
you are the one who destroyed Voldemort. But your parents were killed
and you were left alone. If you only knew that I share that pain.
"Today's the first Quidditch match of the season! Aren't you excited
Harry?" asked Dean Thomas
"Oh, yeah! Were going to crush those Hufflepuff," Ron chortled before
Harry could even start to speak.
A few hours later we were walking toward the brightly decorated field.
The students already in the stands were chatting happily. I had
declined to sit with Hermione by saying I had some un-finished
homework to take care of. Instead I crept below the stands where the
school's broomsticks were kept. From here I could watch the match
alone and unbothered in order to scavenge for this hidden peril. Is
Harry in danger? Dameon seems like one to kid, but on this serious of
a matter?
The teams then burst out of their tents while the crowds cheered
happily. I watched the teams zoom about the field. Harry took his
place high above the crowd to search for the snitch. I scanned the
crowd for any thing suspicious. What am I supposed to be looking for?
All I saw was the Hogwarts's students. Then I spotted the teachers'
stand. Professor McGonagoll looks pleased with this year's team. And
Flitwick talking to Dumbledore. There's Professor Snape. He seems
squeamish. What is he looking at? I turned in the direction he was
gazing. Something moved about in the shadows of the forest. I strained
my eyes. There! It was a figure, running swiftly around the edge of
the lake. It paused, as if it knew I was watching it. It stayed in the
lush foliage so I couldn't get a good perception of who it was. It
continued to approach the Quidditch field. My senses told me that what
ever it was did not belong here. Was this the menace Dameon fortold? I
bared my teeth in a low growl. From my cloak I withdrew my automatic
handgun. What did you expect, my wand? I hadn't had much practice with
that thing and I wasn't about to take a chance with someone's life.
The mysterious shadow finally arrived at the far side of the field. A
small ray of sun fell upon my adversary. He's definitely male; his
shoulders are two wide for a female's. He carries himself like a
predator, ready for the kill. Anyone who can conceal himself that well
is a definite threat. A bullet won't travel that far. But how am I
going to warn Harry? I can't yell to him... he has too much altitude. I
looked over to where the threat rested. The creature was working
tirelessly to assemble something. Oh, god! It looks like a crossbow.
I've only seen one of those used and at that range he could pierce
Harry's heart. Think Raven! In my despair I happened to glance over at
the storage closet. The broomsticks! I quickly shot off the padlock
and used my shoulder to ram open the rickety wooden door. I grabbed
the nearest broomstick and darted outside. With a strong kick off the
ground I was airborne. I hate heights! Oh, shut up Raven! Now
concentrate! Should I warn Harry first or go after that creep? While I
contemplated I also was having to swerve in between bleachers;
attempting not to let the assassin spot me. I finally broke into the
light of the field. I flattened myself against the broom willing it to
go faster.
"Harry! Get down! Now!" I yelled till I was hoarse
"What? I can't hear you!" he yelled in return. Damn it Harry! Come
down before it's too late!
I swerved up towards him. Out of the corner of my eye I watched the
archer take aim. In a desperate attempt I pulled the gun from my
waistband and fired it in the enemy's general direction. The first
arrow I watched zing off course. Did I hit him or just distract him?
At that same second I heard the air break as a single arrow whizzed
past my ear, and the sickening thud of it hitting flesh. The arrow had
punctured his chest and several drops of his blood splattered on my
face as I flew up towards him. For a few moments he sat completely
still gasping for air. Then he slumped forward and plummeted from his
broom. I automatically changed my direction and sped after Harry's
limp body. I clasped my arms around his waist and pulled him on to my
broom. His eyes were rolling nastily and greenish foam was seeping
from the corners of his mouth. Hang on Harry. Were almost down. The
ground was coming up to meet me faster than I had planned. Pull up
Raven! With my knees I pulled up harshly on the brooms handle, but
with my hands around Harry I quickly lost control. The broom's grip
slammed into the hard dirt splintering and sending both of us skidding
across the grass. My entire body ached, but something drove me to get
up... Harry. I limped to where he was stretched out; knelt by his side
and turned him over to his back. He had begun to seizure violently and
cough up blood. This isn't caused by a normal arrow. I'm sorry Harry,
but this has to come out. I held him down with my arm and wrenched the
arrow from his chest. Harry groaned and clawed the ground with his
fingernails; expressing his extreme discomfort. The arrow's tip
dripped with a black mucky substance that oozed and smoked like heated
tar. The poison is only on its edge... that means it was probably
distributed mainly around the arrow's entrance. Then without thinking
I bent and placed my lips upon his wound. I sucked deeply; inhaling
his blood. What am I doing? I spat out the warm substance. Although
the thought of what I was doing nauseated me some foreign instinct
entranced me to repeat the process. Finally a crowd of teachers and
fellow students encircled us. Some gasped at my partial cannibalism.
McGonagoll accompanied by Hermione and Ron pushed through the sea of
people. The remnants of Harry's tainted blood burned the roof of my
mouth. It traveled down my gullet choking me and causing me to go into
a fit of vomiting. Ron was attempting to speak to Harry. Hermione
paused to look at me fearfully before hurrying after the stretcher.
What am I now Hermione? A dog! A creature you can control with the
flick of your wrist and then forget the next? I glared down at my
hands. His blood streamed between my fingers; accenting the creases in
my hands. What did I do wrong? I saved him!
The crowd had exited the stands and I was left alone. I lifted myself
from the ground and walked towards the lake. I leaned over the water
and peered into its reflective surface. Small ripples echoed across
its surface. There was a face, yet not one I knew. It was that of a
girl cowering from an inclosing world. Blood swathed the front of my
shirt. I held my knees rocking to and fro. Why am I so scared? I don't
want to feel this way! That's when I felt a light touch push away some
hair from my face. I shied away.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." It was Dameon. He was smiling
softly. He carried my gaze, "I get the feeling you're upset."
"Why do they hate me? What have I done? It's not my fault it was just
this sudden urge that came over me," I managed to squeak pathetically.
"Child, they don't hate you. They only fear what they don't
understand. When you bit into his chest, well, it made you look like
one of us. But in reality you were following your natural instinct to
withdraw the poison. Wolves will bite off one another's foot to free
themselves from a hunter's trap. You did nothing..."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear excuses! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" I
snarled
"Raven, I have a confession to make. Today was a trial... a trial that I
prepared."
"How could you? You're supposed to protect me! Instead you try to kill
my friends! To hell with you!" He gripped my arm tightly.
"Let me speak! Please," he pleaded, "I had to know if you were worth
my shelter. If you were to fold under pressure then I would know your
will wasn't strong enough to withstand the dark lord. But you
preformed wonderfully! You placed everything on the line for one slim
chance of saving your friend. That shows the true extent of your
determination to succeed... I never said your road would be easy to
travel. If they are truly your friends they'll understand and accept
you as you are."
"Dameon, it just hurts so much. For a few days I felt so happy, and
then the feeling... it was stolen from me..."
"I know. Rejection always hurts, but since you are unique that will be
one of the barriers that you'll have to overcome." His hand reached up
and caressed my cheek. No warmth radiated from his skin yet the
gentleness of his eyes doubly filled that gap with a sensual feeling
that calmed my sadness.
"It's been so long since I've felt mortal pleasure," he quietly spoke
to himself, "your skin... it's so soft." He laid his head upon my
shoulder. His breath caressed the nape of my neck. Then I felt his
teeth begin to make small love bites over my shoulder. He drew back a
minute and leaned his forehead against mine.
Then tentatively, at first, met my lips. His arms moved up my back;
messaging my neck and snaking their way through my hair. Now we
started with a more heated passion. His body pressed closer to my own;
so close I could hear his heart beating rapidly. This feels... so good.
He's totally into me. I don't want him to stop, but... Suddenly I pulled
away from his grasp.
"Please don't. Not now," I whispered.
"Why? I can sense your passion towards me. You want to love, so why do
you resist?"
"Today I saw the danger of this world. This is such a treacherous game
we are playing. Don't you see? If my presence will attract danger... I
mean... I just don't to hurt you. Or anyone else for that matter." My
voice was starting to crack. "I'm not afraid. I am a vampyre. That means I've already experienced one lifetime, and I don't want to this one without you. Remember, I'm an immortal. We don't die easily. I know you've never trusted before, but just this once... place your trust in me... in us." He took my hands in his, "So it's true, you do cry." And indeed there on my cheek had slipped a single sparkling tear, "Let me be your lover. I can heal your pain and never again will you cry." With that he kissed the tear from my cheek. A light drizzly started to fall as the Helios's chariot disappeared from the evening sky.
That afternoon Harry invited us to come down to the Quidditich pitch.
Dusk was falling and no longer did summer spread her wings, but was
replaced with her colder sister autumn. I finally arrived, slightly
disheveled and extremely sweaty. I hurried on to the field. Wooden
towers loomed covered with their teams' colors around the area where
the spectators, I supposed, would watch the sport. Hermione was
sitting in one of the lower stands next to one of the goal posts.
"Where have you been? It's almost seven!" she yelled
"So, I'm slightly late. Your point?" I said perturbed
"You were supposed to be here an hour ago!"
"Let's just say I had a little hold up."
By hold up I meant Filch who had caught me sprinting down the hall
and, had blessed me out; then threatened to turn me in to Dumbledore
for disruptive behavior. He definitely has some issues!
"Where's Harry?"
"Well just look up," she indicated with her finger. I looked up. Above
us were seven blurs weaving in and out the bleachers and around the
goal posts. Suddenly they descended on the command of Harry. They
softly alighted on the grass; causing a soft wind to swirl up a cloud
of sand and dust.
"Great practice!" Harry congratulated the team, "Um, I guess same time
tomorrow? See ya' guys later!"
Harry and Ron jogged over from the huddle.
"Did you see me ace that bludger? I could've knocked half of the
Slytherin team right off their brooms!" Ron bragged
"Uh Harry, when's your first game?" Hermione asked
"Tomorrow against Hufflepuff. I think it will be an easy win, but were
still not prepared enough for the Slytherin team."
Our foursome headed back up to the castle. I walked behind the others
who were chattering cheerfully. What is the point of small talk? I
mean all it does is take up breath and time. It has no point. Why
don't people think before they speak? Silence is clear, untarnished,
perfection; not this mindless racket.
After working for several hours on a seemingly endless paper for my
class in muggle relations I put aside the scrolls and sighed. I am so
tired. I hate working this long, being locked up in a building all
day, and most of all following their idiotic rules. I mean what's
wrong with smoking in the lavatory? This whole place is made of stone
it's not like you can burn it down! And these damn uniforms... ugh. I
went into the bathroom planning to take a shower. I had only started
taking off my socks when it turned deathly cold in the room. My breath
hung suspended in the chilled air; clouding the bathroom's mirror. I
shivered as I watched letters drawn by an invisible hand emerge on the
mirror.
"I... see... you," I read.
"Whose there?!" I screamed, "Stop tormenting me! Show yourself!"
As I watched two brilliant red eyes appeared in the mirror as if it
were a portal to another realm.
"Are you sure you want to see my true face?" echoed a raspy voice
"Close your eyes!" Commanded a fast moving body that pushed me away
from the mirror which I heard shattering the minute I tumbled out of
the room. Then the same figure ran out the room but stumbled over me
and we both went rolling down the few stairs that led to the common
room. I landed on top of it, but for the first few seconds was
slightly too stunned to make any moves. It's breathing. I then
cautiously lifted myself off of the mass and backed away quickly. The
person (or at least I thought it was) rolled over then, spotting me,
vaulted backward where he perched on one of the cushy armchairs. We
watched each other. For the first time I realized it was a boy. He was
wearing black velvet robes with red satin trim and matching waist ban
and head cloak. His skin was a ghostly white and his eyes a crystal
silver. Greasy tendrils of hair strung over his eyes; although not
thick enough to hide his sharply structured jaw and slender mouth.
It's the boy, but how? Snape looks exactly like him. Are they related?
"Who are you?" I demanded. Silence. "Speak!"
"Temper, temper. I just saved your life. But if you insist; I am an
angel from hell. Snatched from the arms of his mother and thrown into
a sea of torment..." he spoke softly. He sat hunched like a dog and had
begun to lick a deep cut along his wrist.
"Stop with the riddles and give me your name!"
"Why should I give you my name when you're not even sure of who you
yourself are?" he mocked, "But I see you won't tolerate any more of my
games. I am Canis to my people, but since you are not of my kind you
will call my Dameon."
"Your kind? You are a human just like me! What are you playing!?"
"No. I am of an ancient race. To you they are known as Vampyres."
"So you're the one whose been here every night. What have you been
doing? Waiting till I was asleep so you could suck me dry?"
"Quite the opposite. I have been watching over you... as a guardian.
That thing, you just witnessed, was a demon sent by the dark lord...
Voldemort." When he spoke that name I could feel my hair spike on end
although I knew not why. That name... those eyes. Why do I feel such
loathing for them? I don't even know who he is.
"You want to know who he is? He read my thoughts! Yes, I know what you
think, so there's no reason in trying to hide anything from me. But
anyways, Voldemort was the creature; partly man who had been consumed
by a lust for power and became the extremity of evil. He killed
innocents, ravaged the country, and placed fear into the hearts of all
wizards. Then one fateful night Voldemort came to a house to perform a
routine killing only to be destroyed when his spell of death turned on
him. The one he had been attempting to kill was just a baby, but was
protected greatly by his mother's love and therefore could not be
harmed. That child is your friend, Harry Potter. Ever since that night
the dark lord has been trying to find ways to return to power, last
year he finally succeeded. This is where you come in. Your silver
cuff... come here." I inched cautiously towards him. I was without a
weapon, but still prepared to defend myself if this "vampyre" got
frisky (it you get my drift). He gently took my wrist in his hand.
With his index finger he traced a line up the center of the cuff.
Where his finger touched a clasp appeared. Then he pried the silver
armlet apart. There on the inside of my wrist was the remnant of a
brand that had been siered into my skin. It was shaped like a
shepard's crook.
"This is the mark of Escryed. Throughout the centuries, vampyres have
traced the carrier of a special trait by branding the owner with this
mark. Ones with this mark control the power to bring forth lost souls
from a mysterious portal. When the dark lord's legion fell many of his
strongest and closest allies were imprisoned in this gateway; to
slumber in suspended animation until one with this mark, such as
yourself, can enter to free them from their tomb. This portal has been
protected by the centaurs, but recently was taken to the Department of
Mysteries for safe keeping. Now the dark lord wishes to revive his
companions... and you are the key to that doorway. So, he has sent his
demons over the world to find you."
"Then why didn't you just kill me? I mean wouldn't that eliminate the
problem completely?"
"The dark lord knows powers of regeneration. If I killed you he could
easily turn you into what I am... a vampyre. Then he would have complete
control over your mind and body. Also, when you become a vampyre your
power relating to the portal increases, and when your control enhances
so does that of those caught inside the portal. So killing you
wouldn't be very beneficial... would it? I must go now, but I will I'll
be in touch soon. Whether you like it or not you've become the hunted,
and although I offer my protection danger will still present itself to
you. Take care child." He hopped down from the chair and strode to an
open window.
"Dameon, wait!" I called out to him. He slowly turned; his dark hair
swaying in the midnight wind, "I had dreams... of you, but you were
older. And you look exactly like, my professor, and... and you were
killing people... I don't know, but I was wondering..."
"Some things need to remain concealed, just for now." Then he stepped
into the window sill and lept out of the window. I ran and looked out
of the porthole, but the shadows melded together; concealing his
position.
I leaned against the wall. So I have to be afraid where ever I go.
This isn't fair! My life was fine. My moral standards may have been a
little off, but I didn't have to be worried about some maniac chasing
me. I slid down the wall and covered my face with my hands. I don't
want to have special powers or be a witch. Why can't I just be normal?
I hate this! That night I dreamed again. I was standing on a turret
overlooking a large field. Sun beams illuminated the lake and the
trees swayed in tune to the birds' symphony. Is this Hogwarts? Then a
ominous clouds blanketed the sun's face; dampening the light. The wood
sprung to life with flame; animals ran in all directions, screaming as
there home disintegrated. Below on the once bountiful meadow was a
gory sight that revolted me. Bodies of the school's students lay
mutilated; some still writhing with the pain of their injuries. Blood
had dyed the grass a rust tone till none of the grass's greenish tint
remained. I shook in horror. Then a bony hand grabbed the back of my
neck, wrenching me backwards. I tried to free myself from the clammy
hand, but was harnessed in that position as if by a collar. In my
peripheral vision I saw the same two glowing crimson eyes. Then my
captor began to laugh demonically. My anger over flowed. I began to
scraped and clawed against his grip, but to know avail.
"Wake up Raven! Wake up! It's me Hermione!" I continued to struggle
against her grasp until I opened my eyes and saw her familiar face
framed in the morning light.
"They were all dead! They were all dead!" I cried out hysterically.
"It was just a dream, Raven. Don't worry, you're safe now." She
reassured me. I shakily exhaled.
"Calm down. Everything's all right," she said soothingly.
"What happened? I heard someone screaming." It was Ron followed by
Harry. Both had just gotten out of bed and their hair was amusingly
messy, as well as their wrinkled pajamas.
"Nothing," I answered slowly.
"Alright," Ron yawned, "See you guys at breakfast."
Hermione turned to me, "Raven... something was wrong wasn't it? I mean
you kept saying 'they're all dead' and when I tried to wake you up you
kept trying to fight me off. I've never seen someone so afraid."
"Hermione... it was nothing."
"Ok, but..." she was still staring in disbelief. I rolled my eyes.
"I said I'm fine!" I don't want to lie to you Hermione, but this is my
problem I must deal with it on my own.
I sat silently at the breakfast table. Suddenly the daily stream of
owls came screeching into the hall. The owls flew about in circles
before diving to where their masters sat. The fluttering cloud then
separated and a larger bird swooped over the tables and landed
directly in front of me. It ruffled its sleek feathers proudly. It was
an ebony osprey. The osprey softly nibbled my hand to indicate the
letter it was carrying. I untied the parchment from its leg and read: Dear Raven,
It was nice to meet you last night. This osprey's is named Farris. He will be our communication. I also need to send you a warning. Your scarred knight will fall today. Stay close to him. He will need your strength to survive.
-Dameon
"Hey is that your bird?" asked Harry. I looked up and met his
brilliant green eyes, and his... scar. The scarred knight. Is Harry who
Dameon was talking about? He does have a scar.
"Yes," I finally answered.
"He's very beautiful," Harry complimented. Those same sad eyes. So,
you are the one who destroyed Voldemort. But your parents were killed
and you were left alone. If you only knew that I share that pain.
"Today's the first Quidditch match of the season! Aren't you excited
Harry?" asked Dean Thomas
"Oh, yeah! Were going to crush those Hufflepuff," Ron chortled before
Harry could even start to speak.
A few hours later we were walking toward the brightly decorated field.
The students already in the stands were chatting happily. I had
declined to sit with Hermione by saying I had some un-finished
homework to take care of. Instead I crept below the stands where the
school's broomsticks were kept. From here I could watch the match
alone and unbothered in order to scavenge for this hidden peril. Is
Harry in danger? Dameon seems like one to kid, but on this serious of
a matter?
The teams then burst out of their tents while the crowds cheered
happily. I watched the teams zoom about the field. Harry took his
place high above the crowd to search for the snitch. I scanned the
crowd for any thing suspicious. What am I supposed to be looking for?
All I saw was the Hogwarts's students. Then I spotted the teachers'
stand. Professor McGonagoll looks pleased with this year's team. And
Flitwick talking to Dumbledore. There's Professor Snape. He seems
squeamish. What is he looking at? I turned in the direction he was
gazing. Something moved about in the shadows of the forest. I strained
my eyes. There! It was a figure, running swiftly around the edge of
the lake. It paused, as if it knew I was watching it. It stayed in the
lush foliage so I couldn't get a good perception of who it was. It
continued to approach the Quidditch field. My senses told me that what
ever it was did not belong here. Was this the menace Dameon fortold? I
bared my teeth in a low growl. From my cloak I withdrew my automatic
handgun. What did you expect, my wand? I hadn't had much practice with
that thing and I wasn't about to take a chance with someone's life.
The mysterious shadow finally arrived at the far side of the field. A
small ray of sun fell upon my adversary. He's definitely male; his
shoulders are two wide for a female's. He carries himself like a
predator, ready for the kill. Anyone who can conceal himself that well
is a definite threat. A bullet won't travel that far. But how am I
going to warn Harry? I can't yell to him... he has too much altitude. I
looked over to where the threat rested. The creature was working
tirelessly to assemble something. Oh, god! It looks like a crossbow.
I've only seen one of those used and at that range he could pierce
Harry's heart. Think Raven! In my despair I happened to glance over at
the storage closet. The broomsticks! I quickly shot off the padlock
and used my shoulder to ram open the rickety wooden door. I grabbed
the nearest broomstick and darted outside. With a strong kick off the
ground I was airborne. I hate heights! Oh, shut up Raven! Now
concentrate! Should I warn Harry first or go after that creep? While I
contemplated I also was having to swerve in between bleachers;
attempting not to let the assassin spot me. I finally broke into the
light of the field. I flattened myself against the broom willing it to
go faster.
"Harry! Get down! Now!" I yelled till I was hoarse
"What? I can't hear you!" he yelled in return. Damn it Harry! Come
down before it's too late!
I swerved up towards him. Out of the corner of my eye I watched the
archer take aim. In a desperate attempt I pulled the gun from my
waistband and fired it in the enemy's general direction. The first
arrow I watched zing off course. Did I hit him or just distract him?
At that same second I heard the air break as a single arrow whizzed
past my ear, and the sickening thud of it hitting flesh. The arrow had
punctured his chest and several drops of his blood splattered on my
face as I flew up towards him. For a few moments he sat completely
still gasping for air. Then he slumped forward and plummeted from his
broom. I automatically changed my direction and sped after Harry's
limp body. I clasped my arms around his waist and pulled him on to my
broom. His eyes were rolling nastily and greenish foam was seeping
from the corners of his mouth. Hang on Harry. Were almost down. The
ground was coming up to meet me faster than I had planned. Pull up
Raven! With my knees I pulled up harshly on the brooms handle, but
with my hands around Harry I quickly lost control. The broom's grip
slammed into the hard dirt splintering and sending both of us skidding
across the grass. My entire body ached, but something drove me to get
up... Harry. I limped to where he was stretched out; knelt by his side
and turned him over to his back. He had begun to seizure violently and
cough up blood. This isn't caused by a normal arrow. I'm sorry Harry,
but this has to come out. I held him down with my arm and wrenched the
arrow from his chest. Harry groaned and clawed the ground with his
fingernails; expressing his extreme discomfort. The arrow's tip
dripped with a black mucky substance that oozed and smoked like heated
tar. The poison is only on its edge... that means it was probably
distributed mainly around the arrow's entrance. Then without thinking
I bent and placed my lips upon his wound. I sucked deeply; inhaling
his blood. What am I doing? I spat out the warm substance. Although
the thought of what I was doing nauseated me some foreign instinct
entranced me to repeat the process. Finally a crowd of teachers and
fellow students encircled us. Some gasped at my partial cannibalism.
McGonagoll accompanied by Hermione and Ron pushed through the sea of
people. The remnants of Harry's tainted blood burned the roof of my
mouth. It traveled down my gullet choking me and causing me to go into
a fit of vomiting. Ron was attempting to speak to Harry. Hermione
paused to look at me fearfully before hurrying after the stretcher.
What am I now Hermione? A dog! A creature you can control with the
flick of your wrist and then forget the next? I glared down at my
hands. His blood streamed between my fingers; accenting the creases in
my hands. What did I do wrong? I saved him!
The crowd had exited the stands and I was left alone. I lifted myself
from the ground and walked towards the lake. I leaned over the water
and peered into its reflective surface. Small ripples echoed across
its surface. There was a face, yet not one I knew. It was that of a
girl cowering from an inclosing world. Blood swathed the front of my
shirt. I held my knees rocking to and fro. Why am I so scared? I don't
want to feel this way! That's when I felt a light touch push away some
hair from my face. I shied away.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." It was Dameon. He was smiling
softly. He carried my gaze, "I get the feeling you're upset."
"Why do they hate me? What have I done? It's not my fault it was just
this sudden urge that came over me," I managed to squeak pathetically.
"Child, they don't hate you. They only fear what they don't
understand. When you bit into his chest, well, it made you look like
one of us. But in reality you were following your natural instinct to
withdraw the poison. Wolves will bite off one another's foot to free
themselves from a hunter's trap. You did nothing..."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear excuses! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" I
snarled
"Raven, I have a confession to make. Today was a trial... a trial that I
prepared."
"How could you? You're supposed to protect me! Instead you try to kill
my friends! To hell with you!" He gripped my arm tightly.
"Let me speak! Please," he pleaded, "I had to know if you were worth
my shelter. If you were to fold under pressure then I would know your
will wasn't strong enough to withstand the dark lord. But you
preformed wonderfully! You placed everything on the line for one slim
chance of saving your friend. That shows the true extent of your
determination to succeed... I never said your road would be easy to
travel. If they are truly your friends they'll understand and accept
you as you are."
"Dameon, it just hurts so much. For a few days I felt so happy, and
then the feeling... it was stolen from me..."
"I know. Rejection always hurts, but since you are unique that will be
one of the barriers that you'll have to overcome." His hand reached up
and caressed my cheek. No warmth radiated from his skin yet the
gentleness of his eyes doubly filled that gap with a sensual feeling
that calmed my sadness.
"It's been so long since I've felt mortal pleasure," he quietly spoke
to himself, "your skin... it's so soft." He laid his head upon my
shoulder. His breath caressed the nape of my neck. Then I felt his
teeth begin to make small love bites over my shoulder. He drew back a
minute and leaned his forehead against mine.
Then tentatively, at first, met my lips. His arms moved up my back;
messaging my neck and snaking their way through my hair. Now we
started with a more heated passion. His body pressed closer to my own;
so close I could hear his heart beating rapidly. This feels... so good.
He's totally into me. I don't want him to stop, but... Suddenly I pulled
away from his grasp.
"Please don't. Not now," I whispered.
"Why? I can sense your passion towards me. You want to love, so why do
you resist?"
"Today I saw the danger of this world. This is such a treacherous game
we are playing. Don't you see? If my presence will attract danger... I
mean... I just don't to hurt you. Or anyone else for that matter." My
voice was starting to crack. "I'm not afraid. I am a vampyre. That means I've already experienced one lifetime, and I don't want to this one without you. Remember, I'm an immortal. We don't die easily. I know you've never trusted before, but just this once... place your trust in me... in us." He took my hands in his, "So it's true, you do cry." And indeed there on my cheek had slipped a single sparkling tear, "Let me be your lover. I can heal your pain and never again will you cry." With that he kissed the tear from my cheek. A light drizzly started to fall as the Helios's chariot disappeared from the evening sky.