Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Anything you do not recognise from the either the films or the books, belongs to the author of this FanFiction.
Summary: Lily Evans is a Vampire. When a Vampire Hunter kills her Sire, she is determined to track down the one responsible and kill him. She did not expect to fall in love in the process. L/J.
A/N: This chapter is definitely R. I didn't hold back on detailing how blood is extracted from Lilith, so I'm warning the squeamish or the easily offended, read on at your own peril; really I don't think it's that bad but just in case ; )
A Stake Through the Heart
Chapter 6: Dare You to Move
James Potter I mused, watching wearily as an old man with crooked teeth entered the dark room. James Potter. Countless ways to kill him had entered my head since the name had been given to me, yet I was no closer to actually finding him. As soon as the name had been relayed I was escorted to some small city, or town. I can't remember exactly where, but it was where my blood would be extracted for the Dark Lord's purposes.
Newbury. That was it, Newbury. In my euphoria I had become dismissive of the little things. I shouldn't, I knew that deep down, but it seemed nothing could stop me now. I was going to be rid of that vermin for good. I was going to cause him the pain that he had caused me.
There was a small bowl resting on the arm of the chair and several instruments lying on a table nearby. All around the rooms were old lab tables, vials and bottles of mysterious potions bottled and labelled in a messy scrawl. Cauldrons were stewing nicely and bags filled with, undoubtedly illegal substances protruded from cupboards and littered the tables.
The man walked with a limp, as if something very nasty had decided to have a go at his leg, but then had been called off before it could finish the job. A Manticore perhaps. He came towards the table carrying a steaming bowl of hot water and a cloth. I watched curiously as he cleaned the implements on the table scrutinising each one and mouthing un-heard words.
Another man entered the room. He was younger then the other man, with black hair and fair skin—he was like a doll. Apart from his eyes. They were like pools of mist swirling and whirling, glinting in the candlelight.
He moved over to the older man with his yellowed teeth and greasy locks of hair. "Are we ready, Dragomir?" he asked, almost jovially. The man nodded and gestured me to sit in the high backed, wooden chair with the small bowl resting on the arm. I had a shrewd suspicion that that bowl was shortly going to be holding my blood, blood that I had taken.
Dragomir picked up a small thin rod that went down into a sharp point. "It's not made out of silver, is it?" I asked cautiously, eyeing it wearily. The last thing I needed was to be killed and not have sort the ultimate revenge.
Dragomir shook his head and drew up a three-legged stool. The young man moved forwards a condescending smile playing on his mouth. "You do realise this will be painful, don't you?" I glowered at him. Pain was nothing.
The process of withdrawing blood from a vampire was by all accounts a very difficult task. We were designed to stay as we were, never to change, never to grow old, never to bleed and never to die. I wasn't particularly worried about how they were going to get the blood out of me, it wasn't my problem and therefore I didn't care.
The younger of the two men had pulled out his wand and had muttered a few choice words. Cold metal chains laced their way around me, binding me to the chair. "Is that necessary?" I snapped irritably, glaring at him heavily.
"It's going to be painful," he repeated. "Constantin and I really could do without you flailing arms and legs."
"Fine," I replied shortly. "Just get on with it."
"Certainly. Dragomir, if you please." The older man acknowledge the younger with a grunt and picked up what looked like a scalpel knife. Gently he turned my arm over, so the fore was exposed and placed the blade just below the crook of my elbow. Carefully, trying to maintain a straight line, he applied pressure and drew across my pale skin. It was a weird sensation, tolerable, yet not pleasant.
I could see the dark liquid appearing, trailing in the wake of the sharp object being pressed into my skin. Swiftly Dragomir cut again, only this time it was in a vertical line. Blood blossomed from the gash and the strange feeling of my skin being knitted back together, began.
Hurriedly Dragomir took up the small rod and placed it where the two cuts crossed. The pain was unbearable; instinctively I screwed my eyes shut, trying to block out the rawness of having something metal inserted into to my arm. My eyes snapped open to find the younger man grinning satisfactorily. I glanced to my arm to see the thin metal rod protruding out from pale flesh.
It burnt. I could feel it burning away the flesh and I gasped my eyes widening in horror. "You said it wasn't made out of silver!" I hissed venomously. Balling my fists and leaning forwards against the chains that bound me.
The younger man's eyes flickered towards Dragomir and then back to me. "If you knew what was good for you, you'd lay off the questioning and start co-operating," he said callously his amused demeanour disappearing.
"I am co-operating, but being turned to ashes is not what the Dark Lord and I agreed!" I snarled.
"It is got a very small amount of silver on the tip," Dragomir uttered in a heavy accent, "To stop the vound from closing- so small amount it vill cause little damage."
I jerked my head in a very ungrateful nod and proceeded to relax again. As long as the treacherous buggers weren't trying to kill me before I had chance to murder James Potter I was quite willing to comply.
Without warning Dragomir twisted the rod beneath my skin and then slowly levered it up wards stretching the hole that was so desperately trying to knit itself back together. It hurt, the raw sensation was spreading, a red hotness sweeping my arm and the huge urge to take the silver tipped rod out rushed around my head.
For a split-second the white light of excruciating pain blinded me. I felt numb, so numb, yet I could feel everything. I was screaming but it was lost in the void of white, the numbness that had consumed me. And then it stopped.
The white began to fade out, replaced with the dark tones of the brick walls. A fuzzy, blurred shape moved in front of me and I found myself blinking in an attempt to clear my vision.
"I told you it would hurt." The amused tone was back again. I tilted my head back so it touched the back of the chair; I felt too drained to argue with him. Or was it the sheer fact he had been right. It had hurt. I moved my head back to a more natural position and opened my eyes. The blurred vision had cleared up and the twisted grin stood out on his face, enticing a furious amount of anger to bubble to the surface.
Purposefully ignoring him I let my gaze wonder to Constantin Dragomir. He had removed the thin rod from my arm, leaving a dark smudge of blood surrounding the point of entry. The skin it self held no real sign that it had been cut or other wise, nevertheless the harsh feeling or sore skin remained, aching and pulsating.
Dragomir was smiling slightly, corking up a test tube containing a timid amount of dark red liquid. I laughed shakily. "That's it? That's how much the Dark Lord wants?" I said in disbelief.
"No. You vill haff to return tomorrow for collection of more blood," he said, placing the test tube in a test rack and scrawling something barely legible on a scrap of yellowing parchment. He turned to me dark eyes melting in to his ruddy, weathered complexion. "I suggest you feed vell before you return tomorrow."
"How will I find this place again?" I asked, bemused by the slight disorientation that I was feeling.
"I thought vampires had a good sense of direction," the younger man threw at me, his tone scornful.
"Some do," I muttered, "It just depends on the individual."
"Fine. Fine. Just typical. I'll meet you-" he paused trying to come up with a suitable place. "Westminster Bridge, the side nearest Parliament Square at eight o'clock."
I nodded slightly, noticing that the chains around me had become loose. "Very well." I looked down at the chains again. "If you'd be so kind as to remove them," I asked, grinding my teeth in annoyance. He flicked his wand irritably and the chains vanished. I stood up abruptly, ignoring the disorientation and light headedness that was threatening to overwhelm me. The walk to the door seemed to get longer as I swayed slightly, unable to keep myself walking in a straight line, eventually I reached it and embarked into the night, eager to fill the ever growing hunger pangs that I felt.
The next night came on the swift wings of darkness, the smell of damp rain trapping thick London congestion, holding it in a void. It was no wonder that people became ill I mused, walking sedately towards Westminster Bridge and watching by passers cover their mouths and cough into white hankies.
The traffic roared past, the headlights on the cars caught the rain as it fell, making the droplets of water glimmer for a millisecond before they had joined the water pounding the roads. I could see Big Ben from where I was- one of London's most famous landmarks.
A dark figure was already stood there, leaning on the railings and down into the icy waters of the River Thames flowing so quietly it was almost like a spectre gliding. Big Ben started to toll out the eight strikes just as I reached him. He jerked his head in an unattractive manor and pointed a slender hand towards the opposite end of the bridge. "Walk," he stated, turning himself towards the direction that he had pointed and walking off, leaving me with a sense of unease.
His manor had changed quite considerably over the past twenty-four hours, a change that I was not keen on. Slowly I began to follow him, my eyes narrowed at the back in front of me trying to work out exactly what had changed him. He seemed angry, his voice a little horse, his body posture tensed, stiff.
I had soon fallen into step beside him, leaving a long silence with nothing but the sounds of footsteps and the roaring engines of cars to break the silence. "Turn right when we get off the bridge," he muttered, his eyes still trained directly in front of him.
We turned down a narrow walkway and into the shadows of a large building, with elaborate architectural details. He took out of the inside of his coat pocket a newspaper and muttered the familiar 'portus' to turn it into another portkey. In all frankness a portkey was not my ideal way to travel, I'd have much preferred to walk then to get close to falling into the abyss of space and time that would undoubtedly be there if I let go of that-that thing. Grinding my teeth a placed a hand on the news paper and looked up to the man who was watching me with a grim smirk on his face.
Slightly sick of referring to him as him or 'the young man' I found the question of his name tumbling from my lips. His smirk dropped very slowly and was replaced by a lazy smile, grey eyes telling me that he was amused with my antics. "That is of little relevance, don't you think?" he replied, still watching me.
"Not at all," I countered. "I already know Dragomir's name, don't I? Why is there a difference in knowing yours?" He considered it and tilted his head slightly to the right, dark hair falling into the steely grey eyes. He let out a sigh and glanced down at his watch.
"My name is Regulus," he murmured. "Happy now?"
"Yes. Thank you," I responded, complete with a small smile. No sooner had I spoke the familiar, nauseating sensation of being pulled by my navel began.
We arrived in a large alley, enough space for a car to drive down if it weren't for the amount of rubbish piled up at the edges creating an unpleasant smell. Regulus stepped towards a wooden door, the paint peeling and cracked from where the sun had damaged it over time.
Dragomir was already there, limping around the basement room and lighting a few candles to keep the light in which he was to work in, decent. He nodded towards the chair that I had sat in the previous night and I moved towards it, readying myself for the experience that was to once more take over my body and leave me with little self-control. All of this pain for a name, a name that I could have found out in time but was too rushed and angry to care.
I seated myself and watched as Regulus and Dragomir conferred over some matter in quiet low voices. Impatience overwhelming me I suddenly snapped, "Can we get on with this?" The two men looked up and Regulus smiled his upper lip curling slightly.
"All in good time." I glared at him; it wasn't as if he had a limited amount of hours to do whatever he wanted to do.
Thankfully there was only a few more minutes of impatient waiting to be done, for Dragomir had now come over and took up his place on the stool, inspecting his implements were all clean and in working order. Regulus had taken great pleasure in muttering the few choice word that would bind me to the chair; he was without a doubt typical of the male race—sex driven and perverted.
The process of withdrawing blood was no different from the previous evening. Dragomir, cut with swift agile movements to keep my skin open long enough to stick the metal rod with in my arm I had screwed my face up, trying concentrate on something other then the rawness I could feel spreading through my left arm. A whimper escaped my lips as I felt the cruel silver attack my skin as Dragomir twisted the rod excruciatingly slowly. The pain was beginning to burn, like a dull ache throbbing inside. I could feel myself pulling against the chains that bound me tightly to the chair and was oblivious to the loud thuds that were coming from somewhere above.
Regulus let out a torrent of swear words, yet they seemed faint- distant from where I was. More thuds and bangs—shouting echoing from the floors above. I was screaming again, the pain numbing me to the events that were happening around me. My eyes flew open, wide and demented with the numb sensation of pain that was still cursing through me. I looked towards the door where the presence of many unwanted visitors was adding to the confusion brewing in my head. The door flew back into the wall with a resounding crack, allowing the visitors access to the room. And all I could see was blackness, and the distant sounds of screams- my own screams, shouts of curses and orders being pounded out.
A/N:
First and foremost I'd like to apologise to each and everyone of you who has been (hopefully) waiting for an update, I'm truly sorry that I didn't manage to complete this chapter any sooner, nor update. If you read my bio I did put a note in saying that I was having a few problems with life in general- it has truly sucked recently. On top of that I haven't really been reviewing anything either, because I haven't really been reading any fanfiction over the past 2 months. I will catch up, I promise.
Secondly, I have changed the title of the story. Forbidden Love was more of a cliché then anything, not to mention the fact that it doesn't really have a BIG relevance to the story on a whole. Plus, with the 6 zillion other stories that have a similar, or the same title it didn't really stand out. A Stake Through the Heart is much better, I think. Any other suggestions would be welcome.
Having said that I'm sorry if this chapter doesn't flow very well, I write differently depending on what mood I'm in. If I'm in a happy mood I'm more likely to write something happy as opposed to something riddled with angst.
On a final note, those of you who have wanted to know when Lily and James meet, it happens in the next chapter. Chapter 7 unless I'm much mistaken will be fairly interesting.
Now onto the reviews:
Neurotica: Petunia was a twist, an unforeseen twist for not only the reader, but for me too! It was a shame that the vampire didn't kill her, although if he had then that would have been the end of Harry Potter. Lol.
anniePADFOOT: Dear, your name is spectacular. I wouldn't dream of having Sirius's girlfriend (or at least that's what she thinks) named any other name apart from yours.
cookiedoughicecream: That was one of my favourite parts too! Thank you for reviewing and did I ever mention how much I love your penname? Well, I have now. : D
mrsjesspotter: I haven't really updated soon though, I'm sorry. Yes, Lily and James will fight. It is inevitable that they won't. Lol.
Brighton Baby: Chapter 7 is the answer you're looking for: D, yep definitely chapter 7. Thank you for reviewing, it means a lot.
PammaPoo: Thank you and you maybe right about Lily and James having a past… there again, it's all classified information for the author to know and you to find out in time. Lmao.
m00nmaiden and Glaze: Part of her parents dying was a factor in why she was sired in the first place, that and Petunia. I do have plans for Sirius and Remus in the future, yes. Also Peter, though nobody really likes him. But Peter… Peter is a fascinating character, I find. I shall probably do an analysis of him sometime and use that prominently in all future stories. Lol.
SiRiUsRoXmYpOKaDoTsOxS: I would never dream of not mentioning you! All my reviewers are very special to me. Lol. Yes, next chapter they meet. I do wonder what their reactions will be…
hypa4evr: All shall be revealed Suzie, lol. Hope you're well.
Starburst1237: Linda, I am downloading AIM as I type. Finally! I got a new computer so everything should be okay now. Yay! Thanks for your review; it means a lot to me because you are probably one of the most talented writers I've ever met.
Ranitta: I'm so glad you decided to give this ago! No, really. It means a lot when a person is sceptical and then turn around and say that it's better then they thought it would be. Thank you so much.
MsLily: I'll try, I am trying. If I start to go down the wrong path, just say. I don't want to end up at a dead end like so many of my stories and ideas so. Thank you for the compliment though, I was just trying to clarify for everybody that this was not related to Anne Rice's masterpieces of literature. Lol.
Adriane1: Hope you're feeling better from your sick spell and if not, get better soon! I also wish I could have written Petunia's painful death, very much so. However, I might save that for another day.
ManiacMegZ: Hopefully any confusion will, indeed be cleared up by the end of the story- when I get there. Lol. Thank you for your review.
Panting Slightly: Chapter 7, defiantly. No worries there my friend. Thank you for the compliments, they made my cheeks burn. No word of a lie.
LilyProngs: Thank you, I'm sort of eager to get them to meet too. Lol. I'm glad it has people intrigued!
firewalker32: Thank you for reviewing, not only once, but twice! It means a lot.
Helen: As much as I appreciate the fact you want me to write stuff, your review still pissed me off, majorly. The simple fact is, I have a life outside of writing both original and fan fiction. Although my life is hardly anything to be proud of I believe that I should grasp every opportunity to do something- broaden my experiences of the world, whenever the chance arises. Over the past couple of months I've done that. Plus, I've got two weeks worth of exams that I'm currently in the middle of, couple that with personal and family problems all adds to that of why I'm not writing. I hope that you can understand that and even if you can't, try too. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I found what you wrote intimidating and a little threatening. I'm sorry.
