Chapter One By:

Calanor

March, 23, 2010
Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts set the large dusty tome down. Trepidation and shiver of fear ran down his spine. Grabbing a quill and parchment, he wrote a quick letter and called his phoenix. "Please deliver these, Fawkes."

The great red bird disappeared in flames.

Albus picked the book up and read the same passage again.

With a face an angel, she will raise the darkness thought dead. That darkness shall seek out the one that carries the blood of the Lion and the Snake. With the face of an angel she will raise the darkness within.

Moments later, Minerva McGonagall, Sirius Black and his wife Hermione Granger-Black, Remus Lupin and Draco Malfoy stepped into Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore turned to greet them, Fawkes on his shoulder, "Hello, everyone. Sit. Sit. Tea? Lemon drops? No? Well, I have something I need done...Mr. Malfoy, if you would..."

It was time for Harry Potter to come home.

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June 24, 2010

Clouds drifting across the night sky slowly revealed an illusive moon, casting silver light about the dark courtyard of the ancient manor. A shadow within a shadow, or only the illusion of such as a lone figure, seemed to rise and walk from its depths.

The dark haired man stopped in a pool of moonlight, conjured a mat, toed off his shoes and peeled off his tee shirt, leaving him in only loose faded jeans. Lowering himself to the mat, he sat lotus style. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of the night soothe him as he slipped into his meditation.

His breathing was paced and even.

The man used this time to sort his thoughts. To calm his mind. To feel the world around him.

Only tonight seem to be a night of memories as they rose up from the deep recesses of his mind.

Memories of his life as Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The Man who destroyed Voldemort with one well aimed strike of his sword. The same man who had lost too much in his life.

It seemed to be his lot in life over and over again. To hold love, hold life in the palm of his hand, only have it slip through his fingers.

First his parents.

Then Severus. But he saw that time in his life now through a grown man's eyes. Just as Severus saw him. Harry was free to choose for the first time in his life. There was no dark lord hanging around every corner looking for his blood. No prophecy.

Only freedom.

Severus saw himself as a burden. A man blinded by evil men as revenge for betraying the dark lord's cause. But Harry didn't see it that way at the time. He only felt the rejection from the one thing, the one person he loved more than anything.

The one person who saw him as just Harry.

Those feelings drifted away in his mind. The memories of THAT day, when Severus sent Harry away came to the fore front... The words would whisper in his soul once more. Words that drove him away.

"I won't leave, and you won't leave me. You promised."

"It meant nothing," Severus growled. "I'm not going to tell you again. It's over."

Harry paled and he gripped the door handle tightly. "I'll go if you tell me you don't love me, Severus. Only then."

Severus opened his mouth to do just that, but the words stuck in his throat. "Go Harry... it's over."

He never told Harry he didn't love him, but each time Harry tried to talk to Severus, he would leave the room or cut him down.

When the school year ended, and Harry graduated, he packed a few things in a rucksack, walked to the gates of Hogwarts and didn't look back.

Leaving Severus behind.

Leaving his heart behind.

That memory floated away to be replaced by another...

In September of that same year, Harry found himself leaving Great Britain behind and started wandering. In the months since he departed Scotland, Harry had drifted from one lover to another. Drinking and partying till the wee hours only to start again when the sun set. For brief moments, Harry thought of packing his stuff and heading back.

That was seven months ago now. His soul yearned to return, but his broken heart said no.

As always, trouble followed Harry Potter and either he found it or it found him. His life took an unexpected turn one February night, in France. Many things happened that night, and it wouldn't make much sense until years later.

Here he was, once again, at yet another club, dancing and drinking till he was numb. Trying to forget with sweaty flesh and empty promises. Until he looked up from the lips that were devouring his to dark eyes boring into his soul...for a brief moment, Harry thought it was Severus walking across the floor in his familiar stride.

But it wasn't.

It was someone who would change Harry's life forever.

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Dark eyes followed his prey from the shadows. Watching as the young man drank and danced with abandon. He could smell the sweetness of his blood and the power humming the lithe body. And the compelling sadness in those emerald green eyes that drew a moth to a flame.

The men and women around him, writhing to the brutal beat of the music on the strobe-lit dance floor, were drawn to him. No one could resist him. Hands touched him as he moved with a grace all his own. Men grinding their hard bodies to his tight leather clad body. More hands groping and mouths kissing exposed flesh.

For a week he watched.

For a week Kastos held the beast back. But tonight, the beast would drink.

The beast would take the young man.. and make him shiver with pleasure and mark him as his mate.

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As memories came and went, Jean Luc came to the forefront. His rugged features and infectious smile. And that French accent that could convince anyone to do anything for them...

Harry woke up a eight days later weak and changed. His body felt heavy but different. Like he had woken up to a new body.

A dark haired man opened a door and stepped into the dimly lit room. "He finally wakes," the man said with a hard French accent. "Hello Mr. Potter. My name is Jean Luc Jouber."

Jean Luc Jouber was a tall man with dark shaggy hair and deep blue eyes. Old eyes.

"And I am Kastos."

Harry looked between both men. Kastos? The man who approached him at La Pègre. Vague images came back to him... Hot kisses, sweaty bodies, and twisted sheets. Mind blowing sex... then..."You bit me? A vampire?" asked as he pulled himself up in the bed and set against the headboard.

And Kastos was beautiful man. Talk, dark and brooding with an air of sensuality surrounding him. No wonder, Harry followed him from the pub so easily.

"I have been searching for a mate." The dark haired man started in an French laced accent, "Your power and innocence called to me. I could not resist."

"And...?"

"At the pinnacle of our fait l'amour, I claimed you but your magic fought it. Tu a dormi, mon amour, for eight days."

"It seems," the other man, Jean Luc began, "you have become a daywalker. Vampire du soleil. You have all the strengths of a vampire, but none of the weakness. Only blood lust. But there I can help you. A simple potion will suppress it."

Harry felt overwhelmed. Once more his life was out of control. What was he to do now?

"Mon ami? This is not the end of your life. Maybe a direction différente? N'est-ce pas?"

"I had no plans."

"Ah, lost?"

For a moment, Harry wanted to cry, but he kept the tears back. Everything happens for a reason, Hagrid once told him. And life has a funny way of circling back around as well. "Yes. Lost. Very lost."

"Then would you like to join us?"

Harry frowned. "Us?"

"Oui. I am a mercenaire. A hunter. We help those who need help...sometimes for a price.. sometimes not. Depends on the situation." The man's deep blue eyes bored into Harry's, "You have an amazing amount of power and a talented Wizard. I could teach you more."

Harry closed his eyes. This was it. The fork in the road. "Yes. Teach me."

The memory faded into his mind. There were others.. but he ignored them. Memories of Jean Luc teaching Harry to fight. How to kill the monsters he only learned about in classes at Hogwarts. To bring forth the beast that laid beneath the surface of his soul. The memories of a man named, Damon Leandros. It was a new life where he travelled the world with Kastos, Jean Luc and others doing the job others couldn't. Helping Muggles and Wizarding folk alike.

No one knew that Harry Potter helped them. They only knew of the quiet man known as Damon.

Memories of nights spent in Kastos bed. The intense lovemaking, learning pleasure from the vampire and mercenary. How both men teased him till his body hummed with intense desire. Sweat soaked skin sliding against one another and moans were all that filled some cold dark nights. Waking up in tangled limbs of both Kastos and Jean Luc wrapped around his body. Desire hanging in air like no other, waking thinking it was Severus. Only to remember, His love was in faraway Scotland.

Thinking of Scotland only drew him to other memories. Like Ron, his red-headed best friend. Their adventures with Hermione over the years. From baby dragons to fighting off Death Eaters to saving Sirius. Riding Hippogriffs and battling dragons for a golden egg. Each encounter making their friendship stronger. Until the day that Voldemort attacked Diagon Alley. Where he stepped in front of the killing curse meant for his mother. Harry screamed his outrage that day when he tried to confront the Dark Lord and Severus held him back unbeknownst to everyone around them.

One of many times Severus kept Harry safe.

Kastos and Jean Luc were in Russia now, chasing after a rogue snow demon that's terrorising the countryside, eating babies. Harry or Damon had bowed out after their last encounter with a wild pack of Chinese vampires. One who thought he was next all powerful leader of the vampire world. And wanted Harry as his consort.

No thank you very much.

Harry had been staying in France for a couple of weeks before he headed back to his Villa in Spain.

Harry stood from the mat and started moving in a graceful fluid dance. Each step, slide, bend, sweep of arm, stretching further in each cycle of motion. His whole body moving as one. An ancient dance he had perfected when Severus first taught him all those years ago. Muscles rippled and bunched as he moved from one motion to the next. Progressing slowly and evenly, his body moving in one fluid balletic dance.

Out of nowhere, Harry brandished a sword, a Katana. Each swipe and thrust was deadly and beautiful as he fought an imaginary enemy.

Stopping when a howl cut through the dark night. It was a howl of anguish and despair. The scent of blood was hanging heavy on the air.

Calling him...Then out of nowhere, Harry found himself barreling towards a clearing. Four people. Three on the ground bowing, the other, a hooded figure was standing..."Such a simple task," Harry barely heard the words. "Find the one who carries the blood of mine enemy. The one who is descended from Founders."

The hooded figure was talking but Harry couldn't tell if it was female or male.

"With their blood, I shall rise again. The darkness shall rise once more. Leave!"

The three on the ground quickly stood and Apparated away without a word. It was the next words that had Harry's blood frozen. "Where do you think the last heir is, Tom?"

Harry found himself standing in the courtyard once more and the scent of blood still with him. Putting the vision away for the moment, he pulled his shirt back on. There was trouble and of course, Harry Potter had to go and find it.

What he found hours later, tracking the blood scent was beyond what he thought he would find. But who he found... was another story.

Draco Malfoy.

The blond was surrounded by bodies and half dead. Right away, Harry could tell that Draco had been changed. He was a werewolfe. Taking a few potions from a pouch on his belt, Harry proceeded to heal what he could and then take care of the bodies.

Harry was holding Draco in his arms when he finally roused. Silver grey eyes blinked up at him. Recognition dawned, "Po...Po..." Draco attempted.

"Shhh," Harry said gently. "I've burned the bodies, and I'm taking you home with me."

"H-home?" Draco asked, confused by the meaning of the word. It was a word Draco had never really known.

"Home, my home," Harry whispered, "and I will keep you safe."

Draco gave a feeble nod and drifted off once more.

Harry wouldn't go back to the manor. He would head to Spain. The Villa there would do for now as he stood with the blond tucked into his arms. Harry concentrated and Apparated away.