I only replied to those reviews that especially jumped out at me, but I read every single one, and loved every single one, because I know for certain now that I am a good writer, no matter what any homophobe says. I'll be updating once a week on Friday unless we get a new computer, then it'll be every three-five days. the chapter starts off slow (I can never make present opening interesting), but it gets better.

Nelly- I hate those conservatives, don't you? Thanks!

Banjodog/ladyOneiorous- You are the best reviewer. You told me what you love and gave some tips. You reminded me of some things I had forgotten! Thank you! i'm saving your review so I know the questions that remain.

Priss368- You are so nice! Thanks for your review, your support of Greg Katherine (some don't like them), and for your comment on my brother's selfishness.

Disclaimer: These lovely people or places aren't mine. This specific plot (as far as I know) Liam, Gabriel, Greg, and Katherine are all mine. My preeeccciouuussss.

Harry Potter and the Alliance of Blood

Chapter Four

The next morning, Harry squinted at himself in the mirror for close to ten minutes to see if anything had radically changed. He looked a tad bit different, but that was just because he was looking at himself without a sheet of glass in the way. He'd put on his glasses that morning, and everything had blurred once he'd forced his eyelids to respond to his brain's commands.

"I am just not going to think about this," Harry growled to himself, stepping away from the mirror. After all, the only thing that had happened was that the horrible eyesight that he'd had for going on thirteen years had just suddenly perfected overnight.

"No big deal," Harry said to himself...over, and over, and over, like a mantra, as he showered and dressed. He left his hair just short of dripping, since it took hours to air dry and went down to breakfast, in a rather bad mood, but he forced himself to stop scowling, since he refused to take his bad moods out on anyone. Greg and Katherine were having a rather spirited debate as he approached, though it was completely friendly. Harry took a seat and helped himself to pancakes and tea. He realized they were talking about whether Gilderoy Lockehart was attractive or not.

"He's an egotistical, self-centered...man. How could you think he was attractive?" Gregasked in disbelief, sounding halfway between outraged and amused.

"He has the most beautiful hair, and smile, and body, and he's so charming..." Katherine sounded dreamy. Greg snorted, rolled his eyes, and turned to Harry.

"Well? What do you think of him?" he asked casually. They looked at him expectantly, and Harry realized this was a test. They knew he was...not straight...supposedly...and nothing he said could convince them otherwise. If he continued to deny it, they would continue to pursue it, or refuse to associate with someone who was afraid. Harry took a sip of tea and forced himself to look nonchalant.

"He is an egotistical, self-centered coward that almost got my best friend's sister killed, who tried to wipe my memory, removed all the bones from my arm, and used me as a photo oppurtunity every chance he got. He's attractive in a rather...shiny way, which doesn't appeal to me, and his personality pretty much ruins the rest of the picture," Harry replied, a small spot of color coming to his cheeks as he took a bite of his pancakes.

"You're right. But he is attractive outside, but all in all, he's about as pretty as a troll," Katherine said thoughtfully after a few moments of silence. Greg looked at him consideringly.

"Hey. Where are your glasses?" he asked. Harry blushed and tried to think up with a lie...and was unsuccesful.

"Oh...I don't need them anymore. I turned sixteen last night and it seems something happened. Go figure."

Greg's eyes were glinting with a look Harry didn't recognize. "Really. Hm. Would you mind if I tried something with your hair?" The question was so random Harry was taken aback. He stared a few seconds before shrugging.

"I...guess. As long as you don't, you know, dye it pink or anything like that," Harry acquiesced suspiciously. Greg pulled out his wand, pointed it at Harry's hair, and muttered "Sec." Harry felt a brief hot sensation over his scalp, before Greg pulled his wand away. The Slytherin and the Ravenclaw stared.

"What? What did you do?" Harry asked, bracing himself. Greg grinned slyly.

"I dryed your hair. It's a French charm that a muggle born witch invented to mimic the effects of a blow dryer, some kind of muggle thing." Harry cautiously reached up and touched his head, expecting poufiness, finding instead a smoothness he had never encountered on his head. He ran his hands down his hair, finding the ends a two or three inches below his collar, longer than it had been.

"It smooths the hair, too. Katherine darling, hand me your mirror," Greg purred. Harry felt vaguely nervous as Katherine mutely handed the mirror to Greg, who passed it to Harry.

"Take a look." Harry slowly raised the mirror to eye level and stared. His normally wild hair was...shiny...and straight. And he didn't look like some kind of owl with his glasses gone. His scar was now completely visible through the straight fall of his bangs, and they were rather long, falling into his eyes. He looked...different. Harry handed the mirror to Katherine without a word, and she took it and replaced it in her bag without taking her eyes off Harry. She missed her mouth when she raised her fork to take a bite of egg. Harry blushed furiously as Hedwig, Pidwedgion, a barn owl, and an unfamiliar falcon swooped into the Great Hall, the latter three toting packages. Hary grinned. He loved birthdays. Pig took several laps around the table, hooting loudly as Harry untied the package from Hagrid and his school letter from the barn owl, after which it departed. Harry grabbed Pig out of the air during the fifteenth lap, and undid the large package as quickly as possible, wondering how Pig had managed to carry it from London. The tiny owl followed the barn owl, looking a little tired, and Harry supposed he would send a reply with Hedwig so he could get some rest. The falcon sat stiffly as Harry undid the small package, looking after Pig with obvious disdain. He left immediatly afterward, and Harry wondered who the present was from. Hedwig helped herself to Harry's bacon.

"Who's all that from?" Greg inquired, looking eager, as if it was his birthday.

"Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and...someone else," Harry replied, opening Hagrid's letter.

Dear Harry,

I'm in France with Olympe. You wouldn't believe the structures these Muggles have come up with. Something called the Eyefull Tower. Anyway, Happy 16th birthday (very special time you know), and keep your chin up.

-Hagrid

Accompanying it was a large box of chocolate and two bottles on butterbear. Harry ate a chocolate, and gestured to the box.

"Have some," he invited Greg and Katherine (who dived at the chocolate) as he opened the letter from Ron and Hermione.

Harry-

We heard that Dumbeldore was taking you back to school. Is everything all right. It must be bad if he brought you to Hogwarts. Everything's fine here, but we wish you could be here. It must be lonely at school. But guess what? Dumbledore dropped by and said that on the thirteenth we could meet at the Leaky Cauldron, and shop for our school stuff together, though we have to have escorts. It'll probably just be Remus or Tonks. Did you get your letter? Wierd right? Anyway, Ron resigned as prefect, said he didn't want the extra responsibility (lazy, you know). He's snarling at me. I think Dumbledore gave it to Dean. I really hate you being alone there, and I asked Dumbledore if you could come here, but he said no, that it wasn't possible. I thought that was strange. Did anything change? Do you feel any different, or anything? I'm very curious about turning sixteen, and I can't wait, and I can't decide what my specialty would be. I'm thinking Transfiguration, or Charms, but Ron said not to bother because I'd probably be good at everything, so I shouldn't bother. Which is of course ridiculous. Have you finished all of your homework. You could probably do rolls and rolls of parchment on Snape's essay about Truth Potions with all those sources. I wish I were there. Don't let that library go to waste, Harry. NEWTs are in just two years and-

Here, the ink made a long, jagged looking line, as if it had been dragged across the paper. Messy handwriting replaced Hermione's neat script.

Hey, mate. Don't listen to her. Catch up on sleep and practice your Quidditch. Happy Birthday!

Ron (and in neater script)

Hermione

Harry grinned widely as he closed the letter. He really did love his friends. In one package was a bottle of broom polish that temporarily changed the color of the wood to any color, in the other box was a silver wristwatch, but in place of the hours were sentences like "Time for class""Time to do homework", and "Time to go to the Hospital Wing." Harry strapped it on and admired it.

"Oooh, I've always wanted one of those," Katherine said, inspecting it and snorting.

"'Time for you date!' Better hope that doesn't happen Harry, with your last fiasco to consider," Katherine joked. Harry rolled his eyes and blushed as he unwrapped the final package, revealing a small, spuare, and flat jewelry box. He had no idea who would send him jewelry.

"Who's that from?" Greg asked curiously, moving his chair so he could see when Harry opened the box.

"I-I don't know," Harry said in confusion.

"Awwww! Harry's got a secret admirer!" Katherine said girlishly. Harry blushed.

"I doubt it. It's probably an exploding charm from a Death Eater," Harry muttered, the last part under his breath. He opened the led and stared. On a thick, shining silver chain was a silver ring, carved with unfamiliar runes. Harry lifted the necklace out of the box and didn't know what to think. Who would send him this? Could it be from...? Harry shook his head, not wanting to think about it.

"Oh, Harry, it's beautiful. It must have cost a lot of money. That's not silver, it's platinum, and it's worth hundreds of galleons. And this much of it, and it's of such fine quality...Someone really likes you, Harry," Katherine breathed, stroking a finger over the dangling charm.

"Put it on, Harry," Greg urged. Harry hesitantly did so. He wasn't comfortable with the fact that someone had spent a lot of money on him. He still wasn't used to presents, let alone expensive jewelry. The ring rested to the right of his heart, and Harry ran his fingers over the slick metal over and over again. God, he hoped that the prince person hadn't sent him this, because it was just too...possesive. Like they were dating or something, and Harry was doing this of his own free will. It made him uncomfortable and slightly angry. The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Gabriel entered, looking slightly frazzled. He sighed when he saw Harry, and walked over to the table.

"Good. You didn't run away or die or anything. Where were you?" Gabriel demanded. Harry tried to put on his most contrite expression.

"I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was almost midnight. Sorry," Harry mumbled, rubbing the ring.

Gabriel tipped his head to the side like a puppy who had heard a strange noise.

"What's that?" he asked curiously, stepping closer to get a better look. Harry blushed and closed his hand about the ring, hiding it from view.

"Oh. Nothing. A gift," Harry said. Gabriel narrowed his eyes a little.

"From who?" he inquired suspiciously. Harry suppossed he was looking out for his sucessor or something.

"I don't know. There was no note," he replied shortly, slightly miffed since it wasn't any of Gabriel's business. The Defense teacher grinned, suspicion gone like a blink of an eye.

"Oh. All right then. Well, have a nice day. I'll see you at seven," the Daywalker chirped. And he swept out, whistling. Katherine and Greg let loose sighs of longing. Harry rolled his eyes and looked at the ring, wondering what it said, and not sure he wanted to know.

OVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOV

The next two weeks were a sort of torture for Harry. He really wanted to see his friends, to know they were safe and that they cared about him. He needed to tell them what Dumbledore had done, and get their reassurances. But he was also dreading the meeting. What if they were disgusted with the implications of the alliance? What if they had grown tired of him...stop it, Harry. Snape had already taught Harry the Imperious, and they had moved on to more illegal curses. He learned the slashing curse that had almost killed Hermione, and the curse his godfather had been hit with.

"What did Lestrange use on Sirius?"

"One version of Fira, it's illegal unless used to light a fire for benevolent forces."

"Teach me."

"As you wish."

Harry wanted to know all the things the Death Eaters had done to innocent people and return the favor tenfold. He had long stopped caring whether these vengeful thoughts were all right or not. He suppossed spending excess amounts of time with a Daywalker and a former Death Eater did that to you. Harry's knowledge of spells was increasing by one or two a day, and with every spell, Harry felt more confident. I can do this, he thought, I really can defeat Voldemort, if I keep this up. It was a realization that caused immense satisfaction for Harry. It was a strange feeling not to be helpless. The fencing lessons had progressed, and he was learning footwork, speed, and how to trick his opponent. Liam didn't demonstrate as much anymore, since Harry could mostly understand what Gabriel was trying to teach without a demonstration. Harry was also taking advantage of the fact that he could do magic by improving spells he had already learned, relearning those he had forgotten, and teaching himself the ones he had never bothered with. He practiced Transfiguration daily, something McGonnagal had told him would make his initial transformation easier. She was teaching him how to clear his mind, gather his magic, and concentrate fiercely on something at the same time, taking it into him and making the object of his thoughts part of him.

"I think we need to start doing some process of elimination, Mr. Potter. I think we've got it done to a jaguar, tiger or leopard, but there are several varieties of each, each with different characteristics. Let's start with the jaguar, and work our way around."

So Harry had spent a whole day researching the anatomy and characteritics of a jaguar, realized that he was definetly not one, and switched to a clouded leopard instead. McGonnagal had him sit cross-legged on the floor, take a relaxation potion, and concentrate on the Panthera pardus. Once he thought he had it, he thrust his gathered magic through its core, forcing it to flow through his body and...nothing. He had fallen back on the floor, promptly passed out, and was unconscious for five hours.

"Hello, Professor! I'm ready to try again. What do you suggest?"

"Potter...why aren't you asleep?"

"What do you mean? I've been sleeping for the past five hours."

"But...how. Goodness, Potter. You should be unconscious for a least a day after you drain your magic."

"Really? I wonder...oh. It's because I can regenerate my magic abnormally quickly, or so Dumbeldore told me."

"Did he? Hm. I think, Potter, for my peace of mind if nothing else, we'll wait awhile before another attempt."

Harry got very used to Greg and Katherine's constant banter, and even joined in when he could manage without blushing. They talked about celebrity Quidditch players, people at school, and unknown people spotted in passing. Unsurprisingly, all of these individuals were male. Harry had gotten used to the fact that he was stuck with a male, and he had begun to realize that, besides Cho, he had never been interested in a girl. He had not even been interested in Fleur Delacour. And Harry realized now that he had admired Cho, because she was pretty, and she played Quidditch, but he had never lusted after her, like most males would have. Maybe he was simply, honestly homosexual, and he had started to like Cho because everyone would expect Harry Potter to have a wonderful girlfriend, and he had ignored the romances around him out of pure self preservation. After all, he had been raised among the biggest bigots ever known to man. The Dursleys hated everything that wasn't white, Anglican, straight, British, and their idea of normal. Harry had no doubts as to the reation of the Dursleys if they ever found out, and maybe that's why he had never admitted it, even to himself. Of course, that was all pure speculation.

Harry had cast an Impervious charm on his ring to keep water from his shower off of it, and never took it off. He had grown accustomed to its shine, and the weight of it around his neck, and the strange feeling of safety it gave him, as if someone had cared enough to send him a present. He was now sure whoever the next prince was had sent it, and it didn't really bother him as much. Surely, the person could never hurt him, since they needed him to take the thrown, and surely the person wasn't very unnacceptable, like an insane and abusive sociopath, because, hopefully, Dumbledore wouldn't have put Harry in a fatal situation.

OVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOV

Harry stood in the foyer of Dumbledore's office, staring at the green flames, wondering if he dared go through them. Dumbledore had lectured him on not trying to evade Gabriel, who would be following at a discreet distance, and to try not to get into trouble, or leave Diagon Alley...etc.

"Leaky Cauldron" he said clearly after stepping into the flames. He closed his eyes tightly shut as he whirred past fireplaces, and prayed for it to be over. He hoped that Apparating wasn't as nauseating as Flooing and Portkeying. Harry, by some strange miracle, managed to land on his feet when he was thrust out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, and he blinked around for a few seconds before-

"HARRY!" was yelped, before a blurred brown figure hurled itself at him and into his arms. Harry was relieved to realize it was Hermione, and returned the hug. She stepped back and stared at him with big eyes.

"Is that you? Wow, Harry, you look...different. Your hair, and your glasses, and your taller than me, and you have muscles..." Hermione said in a rather weak voice, her eyes running helplessly over her best friend. Harry blushed and ducked his head, embarrassed at the praise. He had continued using the drying charm at greg and Katherine's insistence. Apparently, it worked well enough.

"It's nothing," he murmured uncomfotably. Ron, the good friend he was, stepped forward at that moment and clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder, a teensy bit harder than necessary. Harry looked over to find Ron with a look of unmistakeable jealousy is his eyes, and he smiled. He'd be relieved, then.

"Hey, mate. How are you?" Ron asked, warmly enough.

"Things have been wierd, but I'm fine. I have sooo much to tell you guys," Harry replied. He blushed when Hermione and Ron exchanged a strange glance. Harry had taken to dragging out some of his words, and he hadn't realized until now (since he was pretty much surrounded by women and homosexuals) that it made him sound just a tad fruity.

"Let's go get some ice cream, and I'll tell you all about it." They went to Florean Flortescue's, and Harry got a triple chocolate sunday for himself, ron, and Hermione. His friends didn't protest; they were used to his generosity by now.

"So where do we need to go? I need new robes, and more ingrediants for Potions. You guys need anything besides books?" Harry asked, deciding to ease his way into the conversation.

"I need ingrediants, as well, and Ron needs a new scarf. He managed to spill Irreversible Ink on it, though I can't imagine how. So, why did you go to Hogwarts?" Harry had to hand it to the girl, she never allowed herself to be diverted from a subject.

"Well...Remember how I told you how living with my relatives gave me protection from Voldemort? That stopped working. Apparently, the charm was based on the fact that parents used to own their children, basically, and if the ownership changed hands, the spell would no longer work," Harry said slowly. Ron wouldn't get it, but Hermione probably would.

"Ownership." her face had the Look, and her cinnamon-colored eyes were narrowed in thought. "Someone...owns you? This doesn't make any sense." Ron was looking horrified, presumably at the prospect that the Dursleys had owned Harry.

"Basically, Dumbledore made an alliance with the Daywalkers. They're kind of like vampires, and we needed them on our side. And the new leader needed to take his place, but they can't lead without a...mate, and well..." Harry couldn't force himself to finish that sentence. Hermione's eyes widened, as did Ron's, as they both understood the implications of what Harry was saying.

"He gave you to them?" Hermione yelled, outraged. Harry shrunk in his chair a little.

"Keep it down."

"Gods, Harry. How could he? How could he," Hermione whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Ron was just staring at Harry.

"He had to, Hermione. If they had taken Voldemort's side, we would have lost the war." Harry said softly. He looked them each in the eyes.

"I can't be just a teenager anymore. Voldemort is securing his allies right now, and he'll probably attack again soon. Everyone has to make sacrifices. If I have to tie myself to the Prince of the Daywalkers to win this damn war, I will. I really need your support, you guys," Harry said firmly. Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes, grbbing Harry's hand.

"Of course we support you, Harry! It's just so awful that you were...bartered. But Daywalkers are very interesting creatures. Powerful. They have some kind of significance in the Wizarding World. It's a legend in old families, but I couldn't find anything on it."

"The Prince shall rise from the shadows and claim his Consort, and Darkness shall be absorbed by the Light. Every creature shall be freed, and the Wizarding World shall live a golden age for three centuries hence," Ron whispered, looking at Harry in wonder. Harry looked at himn questioningly.

"Harry. You're the First Consort. You have no idea...And that makes me, and Hermione...oh wow," Ron said weakly.

"What are you talking about, Ron?"

"It's a prophecy, Harry. It's very long, and it takes ten whole minutes to repeat. It was predicted by Killian during the Dark Reign of Maldus the Cruel. It's been passed down for about three hundred years. You're a legend, Harry. On August the third, there's a special ceremony that all wizards to honor the prophecy. Harry, you're practically a god. You can't realize..." Ron was shaking his head, and grinning. Harry wasn't quite sure what to say. Why hadn't Dumbledore let him in on the significance of this? Harry started to feel angry, but repressed it, clenching his fists. Gabriel had let him know that when he felt that cold rage it actually affected the physical environment. He didn't want to startle his friends.

"Harry? Prince?" Hermione said after several tense minutes. Harry blushed and slid down in his seat. He'd been hoping...

"Oh. Well...the thing is...I guess I should tell you guys..." Harry couldn't finish. He trailed off, his face very flushed. Ron and Hermione stared at him just a moment before Ron let out a whoop.

"I told you, Hermione! But did you listen? Nooooo. I could never no more than you about Harry. Five galleons, if you please," Ron said with a grin. Hermione rolled her eyes and tossed the gold coins onto the table.

"Well, I noticed too, but I wasn't about to admit it after I'd already bet on it," she sighed. Harry looked from Hermione to Ron, confused. They both smiled at his cautious and hopeful look.

"Harry. Did you really think we'd care? Besides, it was excruciatingly obvious," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Harry looked to Hermione for confirmation. She gave a nod, looking very amused.

"It was, Harry. You were so cute and confused," she cooed. Harry blushed but smiled.

"So...You guys really don't mind?" Harry asked timidly, afraid they might be really uncomfortable but weren't letting on so they wouldn't hurt his feelings. Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Nah, mate. But if you try to get me to shop with you, I won't hesitate to kill you." As Harry laughed, he looked at his best friends in the world. I am so lucky I have them, Harry thought, and the Golden Trio stood to go shop for robes and scarves.

OVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOVOV

I know it's kind of short, but my time to write this was limited. I've finally decided on Harry's Animagus form (you'll be seeing it in later chapters). Harry and the Prince will finally meet in the next chapter or the one after that, but it won't be a 'Harry saw the Prince and knew he was the one for him and ran into his arms. He didn't care they were enemies, he just wanted to shag his mate.' Ugh. I hate all that easy stuff. Oh, no. Harry's going to be the stubborn, naive little arse we all know and love. I'm still kind of debating the Prince's attitude, but it's not going to be "oh I can't believe I'm stuck with Potter" or "oh I've loved him since we first met." Draco has hated Harry until recent events. Now how long he's lusted after him...totally different story. Also, if exclamations,commas, or question marks were left out of the end of quotes, it's the internet's fault, not mine. Sorry!

Review please!