Disclaimer: I am nothing but a worshipper of the great J.K. Rowling playing in her universe. Anything you recognize is not mine.

A/N: Updated 03-06-2005

DARK PHOENIX

Chapter 9: Blood, Second Round

A twig snapped, waking Harry. His eyes were the only part of him that was moving, searching the darkness of the forest around him. He was lying down in his sleeping bag, inside a small depression in the side of a rocky cliff. That way, no one could sneak up on him from behind. In front of him was a small clearing, preventing animals from creeping up on him.

His eyes continued searching between the trees as he listened carefully for any other uncanny noises. But he didn't hear a thing. And that really worried him.

A forest, even in the darkest hours of the night, is never completely silent. There are bugs buzzing around, small nocturnal animals running around and plenty of predators hunting. Not to mention that the wind should be making the leaves rustle.

The silence was creepy, supernatural. It seemed as if all traces of life had fled or were hiding in a silence of death. Which meant one thing: there was some sort of predator close by. And Harry was pretty sure it wasn't an ordinary one.

He slipped out of his sleeping bag and put on his glasses and his boots. He slept fully clothed; fighting in pyjamas wasn't the most practical thing and not only was he in a forest, he was pretty close to Voldemort's Manor, so fighting was a very real possibility.

Harry grabbed his two long daggers and stood up. Something was definitely wrong in the forest. Something that didn't belong. His daggers were slightly warm, as if they were anticipating the upcoming fight.

In the last two days, Harry had realised the Dark Daggers had a mind of their own. It was subtle. He couldn't communicate directly with them but they obviously had some sort of magical link with him. How else could he have become a talented blade-wielder in less than a day? Some sort of knowledge had been implanted in his mind and the only probable source were the daggers themselves. And right now, he could sense a warning from them.

Suddenly, a blurred shape dashed out from the trees on his right. Harry turned, slashing his dagger in a diagonal line. The blade caught in the man's shoulder, slicing him open from shoulder to hip. Before his intestines even had time to pour out, another figure attacked him from the left. Harry stabbed it with his left dagger. However, this one was armed with a two-handed sword and deflected his blade.

Before Harry even had time to engage in the duel, a third person came out of the trees. This one was shorter and also armed with a sword, though smaller than the other. As two blades swung towards him, he ducked and rolled on the ground, escaping the range of the deadly weapons.

As he stood again he realised he was at a major disadvantage. These two had a much further reach with their weapons than he had. What he needed right now was twin swords, not mere daggers.

The thought had barely gone through his mind when he felt a sudden increase of the weight in his hands. The daggers had grown to match his unvoiced wishes. He now had two perfectly balanced twin swords, long enough to challenge his two opponents. Hell, Harry thought, sometimes I'm so lucky I scare even myself.

His musings were interrupted when the two men charged him. They moved fast, too fast to be natural. Harry pushed one of the swords aside with his own and ducked the other one while hacking at the smaller man's thigh. He dropped his sword and grabbed his leg, howling in pain, his open mouth showing very sharp fangs. That's when Harry realized these weren't just men.

They were vampires. No wonder they moved so fast.

Harry's pause almost cost him his life. He didn't quite evade the rush of the other vampire and the blade ripped open his left upper arm. However, the vampire was slightly overbalanced and Harry took advantage of this by burying his right sword right under the vampire's plexus. He ripped it out again and faced the vampire that was now trying to get back up on his injured leg.

"STOP!" someone called from the shadows.

Harry turned in direction of the voice, making sure he kept the injured vampire in his line of sight. He didn't want to get stabbed in the back.

"WHO'S THERE?" he called, "SHOW YOURSELF."

From the darkness of the woods emerged two dozens of vampires. Harry immediately spotted the one who had spoken. He had an aura of authority radiating from him. This was undoubtedly the leader. And the one Harry would have to deal with. Surrounded by powerful Dark creatures, he saw his survival chances dropping dramatically.

"Congratulations. I must say I'm impressed," said the head of the vampires. "These were not the best of my fighters but they were good nonetheless. Tell me, what faction are you from?"

"Faction? What the bloody hell do you mean?"

The leader stepped forward, examining him closely. "You're not a vampire!" he said, flabbergasted.

"Of course not!" Harry replied. "What would make you think that?"

"What are you then? How did you defeat three vampires in mere seconds, with only a scratch?"

"The how is not important, just that I did. As for what I am, I'm not likely to tell you. Wouldn't want to end the mystery, would we?" His heart was hammering in his chest, partly from fear and partly from adrenaline, but he kept enough of his mind to realise that for some reason, the vampires now had a slight fear of him, and he was hoping to press that advantage all he could.

The leader narrowed his eyes, and then turned to the injured vampire, who was now limping towards his comrades: "What is wrong with you?" he asked.

"The wound won't heal," he answered weakly. All the vampires turned to the two unmoving vampires. The bodies were blackening before their very eyes.

"What the hell? Such a wound shouldn't have killed them." He turned to Harry and noticed for the first time the twin swords he was holding. Looking more closely he saw something that would have made his heart stop if it hadn't already. "The runes... they're vampiric runes..." he said softly.

Harry, however, heard. "What? You mean you can read them."

The leader looked up, startled. "Yes I can. These are runes only known by vampires. Which means that your weapons were made by a vampire. How did you obtain them?"

"Well it would be more accurate to say they obtained me." Looking at the frank curiosity on the vampire's face, Harry decided to take a chance and tell them the truth. "I was walking in Knockturn Alley when suddenly I heard this calling. I followed it and these weapons were what called me. They... chose me, I guess. I have a sort of link with them. I don't know much more about them."

"They chose you, you say," the leader looked pensive. "Interesting. I have never heard of a mortal bonding with a vampire weapon before. Nevertheless, anyone in possession of such a weapon is granted immunity from the vampires. As long as you have them, none of our kind will touch you."

"What about them?" Harry countered, pointing to the corpses.

"They didn't know and anyways, they have been punished. It is your right to kill your attackers. You may kill the third one as well, ignorance is no excuse."

Harry seemed taken aback. He looked at the injured vampire. Not only was he obviously in a lot of pain since his wound wasn't healing, but he was also terribly afraid. Seeing no advantage in killing the suffering dark creature he lowered his weapons. There was a sharp protest in the back of his mind, which he was barely able to ignore for a moment, but it faded quickly.

After getting rid of the half-disintegrated corpses, the group of vampires left. The leader was impressed with the skill Harry had displayed and surprised that he left the two other vampires live.

"Mortals are usually glad to be rid of us," he explained, "We are rarely shown mercy as we are thought to have no conscience or morals. We are a misunderstood people and I appreciate your gesture."

However, no matter how much awe he had for the vampiric weapons, he refused to translate the runes on the Dark Daggers, claiming it was forbidden to teach the runes to a mortal.

Soon after, the clearing was empty save for Harry. He wasn't sleepy anymore, so he simply sat on his sleeping bag, pondering all that he had learned. The weapons were vampiric, which explained their taste for blood. They were sophisticated weapons, but basic beings in their desires. He had to be careful, they were already corrupting him. The problem was, he did not know how to stop the process. Hopefully, they would attain a balance. He had no ambition of becoming a mindless killer.

Though wasn't that what Voldemort was trying to do? Maybe the weapons were his doing. Possible, but highly unlikely. The armourer had said that these had been in the family for generations and the vampire had refused to divulge the meanings of the runes to him, a mortal. Was Voldemort still considered a mortal?

Huh, that was debatable.

And what were those vampires doing here? Quite a coincidence that they were in the same village as the Dark Lord! Was there already an alliance between the Vampire Clans and Voldemort? Guess he'd find that out soon if he went through with his plan. He sighed, wondering for the zillionth time why had the fates had dropped this on his shoulders.

TBC