I do not own Harry Potter or his world, JK Rowling has that honor. I own all that you do not know. I also do not own any songs that are printed at the beginning of each chapter, they belonged to their respective artists. Thantos Bifactor and Kite belong to Anima Celeste.

Wanted: Beta Reader with knowledge of Japanese and/or German grammar

Unholy Purity

Part One: Demon Blood

Chapter Eight: Hurt and Rejection

The Kinslayer

Singer

Nightwish

For whom the gun tolls

For whom the prey weeps

Bow before a war

Call it religion

Some wounds never heal

Some tears never will

Dry for the unkind

Cry for mankind

Even the dead cry

-Their only comfort

Kill your friend, I don't care

Orchid kids, blinded stare

Need to understand

No need to forgive

No truth no sense left to be followed

"Facing this unbearable fear like meeting an old friend"

"Time to die, poor mates, you made me what I am!"

"In this world of a million religions everyone prays the same way"

"Your praying is in vain. It'll all be over soon"

"Father help me, save me a place by your side!"

"There is no God. Our creed is but for ourselves"

"Not a hero unless you die. Our spices eat the wounded ones"

"Drunk with the blood of your victims

I do feel your pity-wanting pain,

Lust for fame, a deadly game!"

"Run away with your impeccable kin!"

"- Good wombs hat borne bad sons . . ."

Cursing, God, why?

Falling for every lie

Survivor's guilt

In us forevermore

15 candles

Redeemers of this world

Dwell in hypocrisy:

"How were we supposed to know?"

4 pink ones

9 blue ones

2 black ones

London, England

Hermione Granger had seen many unusual, and frankly bizarre, things in her five years at Hogwarts School. She had traveled through time, been imprisoned by merpeople at the bottom of a school lake and fought Death Eaters in a forbidden area of the Ministry of Magic. She'd usually accepted shock easily; a reason why she hadn't gone mad at the sight of her best friend with wolf ears and fangs, though acceptance wasn't coming as easily in the area of the so-called 'Vampire Prince' Alucard.

The demon was lounging in the passenger's seat of the cab he had forced Hermione and Harry into at gunpoint, the long fingers of his right hand moving through the air like a conductor's baton. The driver seemed to be obeying his every dictation, his brown eyes blank and mouth slightly agape. Harry, who sat next to her, was silent and his head was leaning against the window. His eyes were shut tightly and he was breathing shakily, with a quality almost similar to a wheeze. Hermione nervously ran a hand through her bushy hair and spoke to Alucard even more nervously.

"So, tell me," she said, swallowing before continuing, "Your highness, how do you know Harry's godmother, this Atlanta woman?"

She could tell Alucard was smiling when he spoke, still in a lazy drawl that reminded her ever so much of Draco Malfoy's speech. "War buddies. In World War II, we had a contest to see who could kill more. She won," his tone grew bitter for a minute, "Who knew killing German maidens didn't count as battle casualties . . . I ask you . . ."

Hermione's stomach fled to her mouth and Alucard continued, turning his head to look at the both of them. His face was masked in shadows by his hat though his red eyes were still as bright as if they were in sunshine. "Personally, I don't think that killing identical twins count as two people, do you? They're really the same person, right?"

"You're disgusting," she snapped, sounding braver then she felt. Alucard chuckled darkly.

"Yeah, Etna says that a lot," he said lazily, grinning to reveal his long fangs, "And Leila and my mother . . . Pretty much everyone I know. Funny, isn't it?"

"They count as two people." Both sets of eyes – one blue and one red – turned to look at Harry. He seemed shocked that he had spoken and his voice was raspy, as though ill, but he continued speaking. "Twins count . . . as two people, but if you kill them at the same time . . . its one . . . Like any other, I guess . . ." He shut his eyes tightly and leaned against the window even harder. Hermione starred at him in shock, though Harry did seem disgusted that he had spoken at all.

Alucard grin widened as he conducted the driver to turn left at an intersection with a sharp jab with his thumb. "Spoken like a true demon, wolfhound."

"I'm not a demon!" barked Harry, opening his eyes to glare daggers into the vampire's vermilion gaze, "I'm a wizard, a human! I'm not like you, reminiscing on a contest you lost to a woman." The shock in Hermione's gaze increased, though not at his words, but at how his face rapidly paled as he spoke and how his eyes widened.

"Don't deny it Potter, you're going to end up just like Thantos," breathed Alucard, his eyes glittering, "Licking blood from the sword that had pierced through his grand-nephew's neck and keeping tally marks for every man he's killed. Or even like Makie, eating the still-beating heart of an angel queen . . ."

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" barked Harry, tightening the hold on the gun clasped in his hand. His eyes had narrowed and his teeth were grit together in a style similar to how a dog bore its fangs. Hermione stared at her friend's white face in horror, listening as he continued yelling, "Tell me what the hell happened to me and . . . and who the hell all of you people are!"

"Define 'people'," responded Alucard lazily, directing the driver with his left hand for a minute so he could brush back locks of his black hair. The glint of the vampire's gun was overly bright in Hermione's eyes for a minute and she watched the cross move through the air. Harry gripped the trigger of his own gun a little too tightly for Hermione's liking and she scooted slightly away from the both of them.

"You and Atlanta and Mitsukai and this Khalida person! How the hell do all of you seem to know me?"

Alucard rolled his eyes and started ticking off names with his fingers. "Atlanta went to school with your mother and was named your godmother before getting a restraining order on you because she broke the arms of James' uncle Charles, Makai knows everything, Vlad and Lucy are just in desperate need for decent entertainment, I know everything . . ."

Harry's jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed. "Now, who the fuck are all these people?" he asked, calmer and colder then before. His voice sent shivers up her arms and spine.

"The Lords and Ladies born from Khalida, the first children of the Damned Queen." Alucard's voice was evenly cold as well and he smiled again for no more then a second. There was an odd sound to his voice, as if his personality had suddenly changed when he was now speaking.

"They are demons, dwelling in darkness since the time of the Crusades. You are a First-Born Lycanthrope, made from a fang of Khalida," he licked his own fangs, "I am a Third-Born Vampire, from the fang of my crappy sire who came from a First-Born Tengu." He leaned in close to Harry, speaking even cooler then he had done before, "Enjoy your birthday, because then you'll bleed every ounce of your delicious human blood from that miserable lump of flesh you call a body."

"You bastard! How can you just sit there and say that without any sort of feeling?" asked Hermione, balling her hands into fists. She was very surprised that she had mustered enough courage to talk, let alone screech insults, but she couldn't stand to sit in silence any longer, "You just sit there with that bloody smirk as if you know everything about him! Who the hell do you think you are?"

Alucard's smirk vanished in an instant and all sort of amusement – cruel or not – vanished from his eyes. He leaned in close to Hermione and she found his gun's barrel being pointed between her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as all feeling left her hands and torso. Harry lifted his gun up shakily to Alucard's temple, though the vampire didn't seem to notice or care.

"Listen, wrench," he said with icy malice in every inch of his Romanian-accented voice, "Don't you ever backtalk me like that. I've killed better pieces of garbage then you and the only reason you won't have a bullet in your skull is because you have my father's blessing. Now, shut the bloody fuck up before I do something I won't regret." He lowered the gun and turned sharply in his seat so the back of his head was all she saw.

Hermione couldn't breathe for a long time afterwards before turning her wide, blue gaze towards Harry. Her friend was looking strained, his skin even whiter then a few minutes ago and his eyes shut tightly once more. He was breathing slowly and evenly, but it was better then his wheeze before.

'Is that because of this demon blood he'll get on his birthday tomorrow? Is he ill because of Khalida Thantos?' she asked to herself, turning her attention to Alucard. The vampire prince was dictating with his gun now, his legs crossed up on the dashboard and hat tipped low over his head. 'And why do I have Vlad Dracula's blessing?'

The cab ride continued in silence for an hour or two until Hermione was sure her legs were numb with sleep. Alucard was humming something under his breath and the only other sound was the clicking of his gun, which he did on occasions to scare the two of them. Hermione looked out of the window and watched as they left London for a secluded section of the city's outskirts.

There was a small suburb there, with a few homes possessing overgrown gardens and ancient cars in the driveways. Nobody was outside and all the windows were shut and bolted, as if fearing something. At the back of the suburb perched a large, grand mansion with a long drive and a wrought iron gate surrounding it. They pulled up to the front of the gate where the cab driver suddenly stopped, jerking the witch and wizard in the back up to the front seats. Alucard kicked open the door and pulled open Hermione's door. "Get out," he barked, pointing towards the gate with his gun. She obliged quickly, Harry as much as he could with his hand still tightly gripped on his gun.

Alucard turned to the cab driver, pointing back towards the industrial section of the city. The car turned around at his will and Hermione licked her lips edgily, watching as their dark escort shot the security system and walked through the opening gates.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper to Harry. He didn't answer her but his heavy breathing as they walked up the drive was all the answer she needed.

As they approached the mahogany doors with the carved crescent moons and bats, Harry could hear sharp yells and violent crashes from inside. He could tell it was a woman screaming and a man responding with equal tones. It wasn't pretty, he knew, and it didn't look pretty when Alucard smashed the doors open. Harry couldn't see the inside of the hall, with its bleak red and black coloring and gothic accessories, clearly because its occupants were taking up so much attention.

There were two people in the entrance hall, a woman of about forty and a teenaged boy maybe seventeen or so. The woman – whose long, white hair was made paler by her dark clothing, which was not different to funeral garb – was gripping the boy's neck with inch-long nails and leering at him with illuminating red eyes and elongated teeth, like fangs. The young man she was holding was scrawny-looking and pale from either nerves or lack of pigment. His long dark hair was shaggy, looking like it had been cut with a knife in the hands of somewhat not-to-skilled, and the very tips of his black locks were brilliant gold. He was grinning sheepishly as the woman yelled at his face.

"YA FUCKIN' LIL' BASTARD!" roared the woman, no, demon as she flung the boy onto the floor and pressed the heel of her leather boot to his neck, "DID YA REALLY THINK DAT I WON'T FIND OUT YA STOLE MY ANTIQUE MUSKET? DID YA?"

"I wuz more hopin' dat I could break dem for ya got dem back, Miz. 'lanta," said the boy innocently, grinning sheepishly. His accent was annoying to listen to. Alucard rolled his eyes to the heavens and chuckled lightly.

"Wolfhound!" (He grabbed the collar of Harry's coat and dragged the wizard forward); "I found your puppy."

The woman turned her eyes to the three of them, revealing all of her huge eyes, and grinned manically. "Aw Aly, ya brought me Lily's son." She cleared her throat and walked forward, extending a long nailed hand to Harry. When she smiled at him, Hermione noticed that her teeth were no longer the canine-like fangs they had been a moment ago. Harry shook Atlanta's hand with his own pale, shaking one, his face expressionless.

"I am Atlanta Bifactor," she said smoothly, "An' ya must be Harry, right? Ya look jus' like yer ol' man, dough data ain't a good thing." She tilted down Harry's sunglasses to look at his eyes and gave a thin smile. Alucard cleared his throat.

"Well, wolfhound, tell me why he is here," he barked, jerking his head towards the teenaged boy lurking by a silver candelabra in the shape of twisting ivy. The boy seemed to jump slightly and waved innocently. Atlanta rolled her eyes.

"Miz. Kairai's in one o' her loopy moods," she whispered delicately, "Came wit Zephy an' won't stay witout 'er lil' lapdog 'ere." Atlanta turned to Hermione, looking the witch up and down. "An' ya are . . .?"

"Hermione Granger," she replied harshly, arms crossed over her chest, "So you are Harry's godmother? Mind explaining a few things, like what the bloody hell is going on?" Atlanta opened her mouth but a sudden crash turned everyone's attention back towards the still unnamed teenaged boy, or demon, Hermione didn't know. He had tried to grab the candelabra but its base had broken off and lay on the floor.

"Uh . . . Miz. 'lanta, Mr. Alucard, I . . ." He ran for his life down the hall, slipping in too-large boots. Alucard and Atlanta exchanged looks and the vampire strode after the boy, raising his gun and shouting in mingled Romanian and German.

"Well, where da ya want me ta start, Miz. Granger? With da Big Bang or . . ." Hermione narrowed her eyes darkly and pointed at the limp-looking form of her best friend. Harry really did look like he was about to pass out at any moment; he wavered where he stood and still had his arm out from where Atlanta had released it.

"He's becoming less and less human by the second, isn't he?" asked Hermione, crossing her arms and glaring at the albino demoness' youthful face. Harry looked at her and shut his eyes.

"'Course he is. Dat's wot da Lady's fangs an' feathers do ta humans; dey get 'er blood, demon blood," said Atlanta carelessly, tucking a loose lock of white hair behind her ear, "Dat's wot happened ta me hubby in da Crusades an' wot happened to Miz. Kairai even 'fore den."

"Why though?" Atlanta sniggered lightly and took her godson's hand, as if he was unable to move on his own accord. The British witch followed the two down the elaborately decorated entrance hall and up flights of velvet-carpeted stairs.

"I ain't da Lady," snapped Atlanta harshly, "But its fer summin' important. Miz. Kairai was made ta kill a couple o' traitors an' Thanatos wuz made ta stop the Human-Demon wars so ya know he's gonna end up doin' summin' special like stoppin' da Apocalypse."

Hermione shook her head and snapped harsher then she meant to. "But . . . What happens on his birthday?"

"Yes, what does happen on my birthday?" Harry jerked out of Atlanta's tight grip, glaring at her behind his visor-like glasses, "And what do I feel like a bus hit me?"

Atlanta looked at him and sighed deeply, crossing her arms behind her head. "I dunno wot happens ta a human when dey get da Lady's blood. Aly knows, ja, an' so do Thany and Miz. Kairai, but none o' dem will talk 'bout it. But ya'll won't have ta worry, I know dat." She gripped his shoulders and smiled. "Me hubby'll be right dere ta help ya. He wuz jus' like ya, human 'fore demon, an' ya've got dis gal 'ere ta help ya." She jerked her head at Hermione and smoothed her skirt unnecessarily.

Harry shook his head. "Isn't there anyway I can stay human?"

"Sorry kido," she said smirkingly, "Once da Lady picks ya, ain't no way ya can refuse 'er. Sides, once ya experience a World War, dere's no way ya want ta be human."

Hermione shook her head in disgust. 'Warmonger . . .' she thought bitterly and Atlanta continued up the stairs.

"I can show ya guys ta yer rooms so me lil' godson can sleep. Dun worry kid, me hubby says dat ya feel ship-shape by tomorrow aftanoon. Den I'll introduce ya ta Vladdie an' Lucy an' everyone else, mkay? Jus' lock yer door, cuz Kite'll take anything ya got when yer sleepin', includin' dat snazzy coat ya've got."

"Kite?" asked Hermione delicately, thinking of the odd scruffy looking boy Alucard had chased down the entrance hall. Atlanta nodded, grabbing her godson's arm delicately with her long fingered hands.

"Miz. Kairai's assistant an' lapdog. Kite does all o' her stuff when she's in rehab o' bedridden o' comatose. He's dat lil' fucker who stole me dad's antique musket, relic o' da French an' Indian War."

Hermione's left eyebrow rose in a high arch. This 'Miss. Kairai' seemed to be popping up a lot in Atlanta's conversation and the demoness made no effort to explain. Atlanta had brought Harry and Hermione to a floor of the mansion that was completely carpeted in black, with silk-embroidered velvet curtains at the French windows all along the corridor. The many doors were all shut tightly.

"Guest rooms," said Atlanta with a curt nod, "Mine's right dere an' me hubby an' bro is wit me." She pointed at a door next to a cherry end table where a vase of dead roses and a bottle of wine sat. At least, Hermione hoped it was wine. She didn't know what demons drank and didn't hope to find out.

Atlanta entered the room furthest down the corridor after two knocks, revealing a room about the size of a Gryffindor dormitory. The furniture was all made of black mahogany and decked in either red or black. There was a large four-poster bed next to the curtain window and a small circular table in the center of the room, with two chairs there.

"Dis is yer room, me lil' godson. Ya can sleep 'till dinner an' I'll come get ya, mkay?" Harry nodded dazedly and collapsed onto a chair. Hermione bit her lip and took the other one, keeping silent until Atlanta let with sharp clicks of her high-heeled boots.

"Harry, I . . ." began Hermione, trying to draw words together, "I don't like any of this. There's got to be a way you won't become a demon, there has to be."

"I don't care anymore."

He reached into his pocket and drew out the amulet that masked his inhuman qualities. He tossed it onto the table and, immediately, his appearance changed to befit that of a half-human. He seemed to sigh in relief.

"What do you mean you don't care!" she asked, looking at him oddly, "Harry, you're human! You can't honestly say you'd rather be like somebody who says 'You haven't lived until you fought in a World War'!"

He gave her an odd sort of feral smile that made her skin crawl. "Nope, not at all. I always wanted to a normal kid with a normal family and a normal life. But it seems that nobody wants me to have that, now do they?" He didn't wait for her to answer and took off his red tri-cornered hat so that his canine ears flickered.

"Maybe this is a way I can get a normal life. These demons don't care that I'm 'the amazing Harry Potter'. They see me as a weak little kid, and that's perfectly acceptable so long as I don't get special treatment."

She stared at him with widening eyes and she shook her head.

"Listen to yourself," she snapped, standing and looking down at him, "You sound insane!"

"Am I insane so much that I want a family!" he snarled through clenched fangs, "My aunt and uncle are DEAD. My godfather is DEAD. All I have left in this world are those two! What would you know, anyway?" He stood, his fists clenched on the tabletop and his eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "You have everything I ever wanted Hermione! You and Ron, you both have normal, loving families! My family hated me and now they're dead! What do I have to hold onto as a human; memories of people I cared about getting hurt and dying?"

She balled her right hand into a fist and, in a spur of the moment thought, slapped him as hard as she could with her left. He stumbled backwards for a moment, a hand mark stinging against his cheek and his angry eyes dazed and dulled.

"You . . .?" he asked, confused and looking at her oddly.

"Just because your lonely doesn't mean you have to relinquish your humanity, Harry Potter," she whispered icily, "Ever since I met you, you've been high strung. Even through everything, you didn't give up. Now look at yourself." She gripped his shoulders, tightly but not painfully so.

"You don't have to give up just because you're in a corner. That didn't stop you all these years, did it?"

His odd smile returned and he took her hands off his shoulders. "This isn't like all those other times Hermione," Harry said quietly, "This is different. I don't want to be human anymore, I made my choice. Can't you understand?"

She stared at him for a long time, focusing on the eyes behind his visor-glasses. They were only slightly hued with green now, mostly yellow and barely human anymore. Finally, Hermione shook her head and slipped her hands out of his tight grasp.

"I need to think . . ." she said, keeping her voice as even and quiet as she could, "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Hermione turned sharply on her heels, walking out of the room and shutting the door. She leaned against it, with her head in her hand and tears clogging her vision and throat.

Harry looked at where Hermione had closed the door, then looked at his own long fingered hands with the blackened, claw-like nails. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't feel any sort of sorrow for Hermione's rejection and only a strange sort of bliss that he was free to do what he wished with his life.

12 Grimmauld Place, London, England

"Let me see if I understand the situation correctly," said Molly Weasley very coldly, speaking to the black-winged German woman in the odd bareback uniform, "You say that my youngest son isn't human anymore, correct?"

Verlust nodded curtly, narrowing her hazel eyes slightly. "Ja."

"And you say that he is supposed to lead dead souls to rest, correct?"

Again, the German nodded. Mrs. Weasley stood and shook her head. "I forbid it. I don't care if you kill me, but you're not laying a hand on my son! If anything, you are going to get rid of those wings of his and explain how he got them!"

Remus lay a hand on Molly's shoulder, glaring her into silence. Verlust looked at Ron, who stood in a corner as if trying to hide away from all this negative attention he was getting.

"Vhy don't ve leafe the decision to your son, Fau Veasley?" she asked coldly, "If he vishes to accept vhat the Seraph vishes him to do, or he can accept vhat you vish him to do."

"That sound reasonable," said Remus delicately and Molly opened her mouth to screech her objection. "Molly, Ron isn't a child. He can make his own choices."

Ron gulped, beads of sweat dripping down his neck. His wings twitched in apprehension and he tried to focus on what he had to choose. One, he could either wait for Professor Dumbledore to explain what had happened to him or, two, he could go with this German Reaper and possibly get a more decent explanation.

His mind thought of Harry, his best friend for five whole years and Hermione . . .

Ron inhaled deeply and shut his eyes before speaking. He didn't want to see anybody's expression.

"I . . . I'll go with Strum . . ."

"RON!" yelled his mother harshly and Ron looked at the stone ground and his bare feet.

"Mum, she's like me, you know, and she'll be able to explain what's wrong with me and everything. And . . . and I'll be able to help out the Order more. Right?" He looked up and saw the hurt on his mother's face. Verlust was smirking.

"Ve are not going to take him avay from you forefer. I can make a fev exceptions und let him stay vith you."

"No, its fine," said Mrs. Weasley hoarsely, "If he wishes to go with you, let him. I don't care."

She turned from the kitchen and walked out swiftly and silently, though she didn't need to say anything to emphasize the pitiful feeling Ron felt as he watched his mother leave.

'I hope I picked right,' he thought to himself, fingering the large cuff of his military jacket.

End of Chapter Eight: Hurt and Rejection