Chapter 5: A New Acquaintance

When they arrived at Salisbury, Patrick woke Harry up, unloaded his luggage, and led him to the Gothic cathedral.

"What's here?"

"Wait and see."

They walked through the church itself and out into the cloister. Coming upon a certain pillar, Patrick stopped, looked around to make sure no one else was around, and tapped it three times with his wand.

Suddenly the floor next to the pillar began to move, revealing a set of stairs heading underground.

"Follow me."

The slab moved back to its original position as they walked down, and soon they approached a wooden door. Patrick knocked three times, and the door knocker questioned them.

"Name, rank, creed and serial number," it demanded.

"Patrick O'Reilly, Sergeant, Avenger, 21645."

"Purpose of visit?"

"Escorting Mr. Harry Potter to Amsterdam via Floo Powder."

"Welcome Sergeant O'Reilly." At that, the door swung open.

As they walked in, Harry gasped in astonishment. The room was filled with tables covered in maps and parchment, computer screens, radars, all number of technologies he had never seen in the wizarding world before. Men were running back and forth, shouting instructions, delivering messages, while several men wearing military gear and armed to the teeth were hoping into a helicopter.

"Bound for London, no doubt. It's eerie; the vampire activity in that city hasn't been an issue since Count Dracula was killed."

"Why are they there?"

"I told you, lad, they're part of Voldemort's army. He's going to need more than a handful of Death Eaters if he's going to take on the entire wizarding world. And this is only the beginning."

Suddenly a tall man with mussed up blond hair and a monocle approached them.

"Oh Patrick, thank God you two are still alive. Sorry about the tank, I should have realized that it would be too slow to catch all those vampires. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't worry about it, boyo, we're all right, thanks to my superb driving skills, and an M-16."

"Ha! Well, hello Harry. My name's Richard Belmont; I was also one of the Junior Marauders Judah mentioned in his letter."

"Pleased to meet you Richard."

"Well, I see your all packed, so let's not delay you any longer than you need to. Come up to my office, we'll use my fireplace."

They stepped into his office, a clutter of parchments and quills. "Sorry about the mess. My main office is in York, but this is a little closer to the current scene of operations, so it'll do in a pinch. Ready Harry?" he asked as he pulled out a vase of Floo Powder.

Harry nodded.

"All right then. Patrick, you go first so he can learn the address."

Patrick grabbed Harry's trunk and stepped into the fireplace. He took a fistful of Floo Powder, and called out, "Haus van Helsing," before vanishing in a burst of green flame.

Harry took Hedwig's cage and stepped in. He grabbed some powder and yelled out, "Haus van Helsing!"

WHOOSH!

Suddenly he was in an elegant parlor, decorated in the style of the early Nineteenth-Century, making him feel that he had changed times as well as houses. He saw Patrick off to the right, talking to another man with slicked-back black hair and a goatee, dressed in expensive pants and a button-up shirt. Like Patrick, you couldn't tell this man was a wizard merely by looking at him.

Suddenly he turned, caught sight of Harry, and gasped. "My God; he really does look like James," he said quietly. He slowly approached Harry, and peered at his face. Suddenly, as if stepping out of a trance, he shook his head lightly, and his eyes lost their glazed-over look.

"Forgive me, Harry, but you were still a baby the last time I saw you. We all knew that you were going to favor James, but we weren't expecting a carbon copy." He laughed lightly. "Welcome Harry. I'm Judah van Helsing," he said with a slight bow of the waist. "Welcome to my home; Dumbledore wants you to spend you're summer here, so please, until school starts, feel free to consider it your home as well."

"Um, thank you, sir," Harry answered uncertainly. He wasn't sure how to take all this.

"Ah, but of course you're worried about your friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Well, rest assured Harry, they will be coming to visit in a few weeks, along with Remus. But, here I stand babbling while you're probably tired and hungry. Smiley!" A rather well-dressed house elf came into the room. "Smiley, take care of Harry's luggage please." The house elf bowed in subservience, snapped his fingers and caused the trunk and cage to levitate, Hedwig screeching in protest. Smiley walked off, and the luggage followed him up the stairs into the guest room laid aside for Harry's use.

"Now, may I offer you something? A drink, or something to eat?"

"I am a little thirsty."

"Say no more," Judah responded, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, a pitcher of pumpkin juice and a goblet floated into the room. The pitcher filled the goblet, which then proceeded to float over to Harry, who stared at it dumbstruck.

"You don't like pumpkin juice?"

"Oh, no, I love it, it's just that…I've never seen anyone do that without a wand."

Judah threw back his head and laughed. "I think you'll find, Harry, as I said in my letter, we have certain skills that most run-of-the-mill wizards only dream about. If you thought that was impressive, just wait till you've been living here for a few weeks."

Harry took the goblet hesitantly, sipped at it, and realized just how thirsty he really was. He chugged it down, and the pitcher promptly refilled it. When he had finished that, both pitcher and goblet floated back into the kitchen. "Thank you very much," Harry said.

"Think nothing of it. Now, doubtless Patrick has taken you through Hell and back to get you here, so if you wish, you may rest up in your room. There's a washing basin in there if you want to freshen up, and dinner will be served in four hours, so if you wish you may rest up."

"Again, thank you sir."

"Oh, please, my inferiors call me 'sir'. You're James' son, you may call me Judah, if you wish."

"Well, thank you, Judah."

"Smiley, show Harry up to his room."

Harry followed the house elf (was that a black suit it was wearing?) up the stairs into a bedroom. Its opulence took Harry's breath away. A lavish four-poster bed was in the center of the wall, surrounded by a wardrobe, a wash basin and pitcher, two chairs and a table with a wizard's chess set on it, as well as lace curtains and a screen for dressing behind. Harry felt the bed, realized how tired he was, climbed in, and fell asleep. Smiley drew the bed curtains, walked out and quietly closed the door.

Later, in the Billiard Room

"Well Judah, you certainly put up a convincing act for Harry, didn't you? Nine ball, corner pocket."

"I'm just trying to make the boy feel welcome, Patrick. He must be exhausted after the crap you put him through to get him here."

"Why does everyone keep blaming me? The way you talk, you'd think I purposely lured those vampires to Surrey. Eight ball, side pocket. Ha! I win."

"That's best three out of five," Judah commented as he put up his pool stick. "Besides, he's James' son. Why shouldn't I make him feel welcome?"

"Oh, I don't mind your hospitality Judah. I just wonder what he's going to think when he finds out that the scion of the greatest family of Hunters in Europe has turned coward."

"Careful, Patrick; as Jake would say, 'Them's fightin' words.'"

"That's about all we can expect from you anymore, isn't it? Fighting words, but no actual fighting."

"Patrick, I'm sorry that not all Hunters can be as enthusiastic about staring death in the face as you are."

"Please. This isn't about who's the better man, the cautious Defender or the reckless Avenger; this is about your inability to fulfill your oath."

"What oath? Oh, that blood oath we took twenty-four years ago? That was before I realized there were more important things to live for then being a killing machine."

"If you're talking about your family, stop right there. Ivan's in the same situation as you are; counting down the days until he can take a permanent desk job and his pension. And yes, Helga is pressuring him to try and get it done earlier. But, she understands that it's not going to happen, so in the meantime, she encourages him to do a good job; and he does. As much as he hates it, he gets out there and fights with those motherfuckers every fucking day, even manages to bring a few of them down with him."

Judah said nothing, but turned and looked out the window, fingering the rosary on his belt.

"Judah, this boy is our only hope; he's the only one who can kill Voldemort, and he's going to need all the support he can get. He's not going to get that support with your moping around the house. Or has your pacifism extended to Voldemort as well?"

"Damn it, Patrick, now that's taking it just a bit too far!"

"Is it really? It's quite difficult to tell with your attitude lately, Judah!"

"Will you two stop fighting? You're going to wake the boy up," Helena van Helsing, Judah's wife, called from the hallway.

"Sorry Helena. Well, I've got to get back to London, let Molly and the others know Harry's alright. See ya, Judah," Patrick called as he stepped through the fireplace.

Judah walked over to the brandy decanter and poured himself a glass. Coward, eh? Could he be right? No, he couldn't be…he just couldn't be…

Helena walked into the room. "Judah, is something wrong?"

"Only everything," he replied between sips of brandy.

"What were you two fighting about?"

"Oh, haven't you heard? Your husband's a coward."

"So, Patrick's not so supportive of your decision either?"

"He doesn't know my decision."

"You mean you haven't told anyone?"

"Of course not; I get enough crap at the office just for stating my opinion on the way things are going now. Can you imagine how it's going to be if I told them I was leaving?"

She said nothing, but walked up to her husband, placing her arm around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder. He placed his arm around her shoulders and kissed her, a tear streaming down his cheek as he stroked her hair.

"Why won't you tell me what you think?"

No response; not that he had expected one. He sipped at his brandy again. "I remember how much fun it was when we started; basic training, martial arts, learning magic most wizards only dreamed about, learning how to manipulate time and space, neutralizing spells with a gesture, even learning a little bit of mind control. Then I met you, right after taking the Hunter's Oath. Then I was imbued. I thought I was on top of the world." Another sip. "Then I met Wolfgang, and helped me hone my skills to an art form. I joined Team Tepes, thought I was invincible. We all did. Well, we learned our lesson quite quickly, didn't we?"

"Judah, if you're so sure about your decision, why are you agonizing over it?"

"I'm imbued; where else am I going to go? Once I do quit, that will only be the beginning. We will never be able to live an ordinary life; I lost the chance for that once I was imbued. You lost it the day you married me." He sighed deeply. "Fame; ain't it a bitch?" It was an attempt at humor, but the tears flowed freely from his eyes. Suddenly Judah noticed his hand was hurting. He looked down to see that he was gripping the brandy glass tightly, knuckles white. Fortunately, the glass was a family heirloom, so it had an accident proof charm on it.

Judah put the glass down. "Come on, let's get ready for dinner.

Later That Evening

Harry woke up around six, and found a note on his pillow.

Harry, my wife is of the opinion that you're probably too tired to want to sit through dinner and try to be polite to us, and I agreed, so we'll be sending your dinner to your room. Bon appetite.

Judah.

Thankful for the break, he walked over to the wash basin, filled it with cold water from the pitcher, and began washing his face with it in an attempt to wake himself up. He then washed his hands, and had just finished drying them off when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called out.

The door opened and Smiley walked in carrying a covered tray. He placed it on the table, removed the cover, bowed to Harry, and left. At the door stood a young man dressed in a tux.

"Harry Potter?" he asked, extending his arm.

"Yes."

"Perez van Helsing, Hogwarts Class of '92."

"You do look vaguely familiar."

Perez laughed. "I'm surprised I even look vaguely familiar. You had a lot more on your mind that year then who the current Head Boy was."

"Well, the fez was kind of hard to miss."

"Oh, I hated wearing that thing. Most of my predecessors did; the only one I can think of who did enjoy wearing it was Percy Weasley, which isn't saying much."

Now it was Harry's turn to laugh.

"Anyway, Dad just wanted to make sure you were alright, and if you need anything, just pull the bell cord and Smiley will be at your disposal. Oh yes, if you can, save some room for desert; my sister's prepared her famous 'Death by Chocolate' cake tonight. She'll bring up a piece for you when you're finished."

"Thanks," Harry said. Perez bowed and left.

Dinner was roasted goat's meat soaked in a red wine sauce, along with some side dishes Harry was unable to identify. A bit exotic, but not all that bad. He heard the clashing of steel, and turned to see what the problem was. One of the pictures in the room was a picture of two knights locked in combat, which had just now come to life in the way of pictures in the wizarding world. One of the knights looked over at Harry. "Glad to see your awake, young master." He quickly ducked as his opponent attempted to slice off his head. "We had to call it quits while you were asleep, so I hope you don't mind if we resume." He then tried to pin his opponent's shoulder to a nearby tree, but with no success.

"Not at all," Harry replied. "I rather enjoy having a live show with dinner."

Suddenly the opponent beheaded the knight who had spoken to Harry. When he fell dead to the ground, a group of medics stepped into the picture, placed the body on a stretcher and carried it off. Soon afterwards, another knight stepped into the frame and resumed the fight.

When Harry finished his dinner, there was another knock at the door. "Come in."

Once again, the house elf entered carrying a plate. Placing it on the table, he then snapped his fingers, and the dinner tray floated up and out of the door, followed by the house elf. Harry looked toward the door, and saw a young girl in a black dress.

Um, hi, Miss…" he asked nervously.

"Rachel van Helsing."

"Rachel. Um, are you up at Hogwarts? I swear I've seen you before."

"Actually, yes I am. This year will be my Fourth Year. I must say, though, I'm surprised you remembered me, what with everything that's been going on."

Harry tried to think of how to respond, but his mind came up blank. My, but she was pretty.

"Well, I have to get back to dinner. I hope you enjoy your desert."

"Thank you," Harry said as she walked down the stairs.

He returned to his seat and took a bite of the cake. It was as if there was a chocolate explosion inside his mouth. Delicious, but overpowering. He quickly took several gulps from his glass of milk. Whew! So that's why they called it 'Death by Chocolate.'

After he had finished, there was another knock at the door. Before he could respond, however, it opened and Judah walked in.

"Ah, Harry, I see you had some of my daughter's cake. How was it?"

"It was…an adventure," he replied slowly.

"Ha! That's putting it mildly, I can see. Anyway, this letter arrived for you from the Weasleys. That poor owl of theirs is resting in my owlery. Poor chap hit the window coming in. Couldn't tell if it was closed or open, I guess."

"As usual," Harry commented.

"Aye. Well, if you need anything Harry, don't hesitate to ask. Remember, this is going to be your home for the rest of the summer."

"Thank you."

Judah bowed and left Harry alone once again.

He tore open the letter and began to read.

Harry,

Patrick told us all about your escape from the Muggles. Needless to say, Mum went ballistic. She gave Patrick a good talking to, using some choice words to describe him, unable to believe he had been so reckless with you in his car. Anyway, we're going to try to come and visit you in a few weeks, so hang in there. I'll be seeing you soon.

Ron.

As he put the letter down, Harry began to wonder how he was going to spend the rest of the summer. He looked around the room. Well, it was certainly an improvement from Privet Drive; and since he knew that he probably couldn't stand another summer at Grimmauld Place, this would have to do.