Chapter Four

Day Four

8:oo a.m.

Voldemort's Lair

The darkness that had taken over as a result of that last curse slowly lifted from Harry's subconcious until it was completely gone. He kept his eyes closed as he regained his senses, and once he did he realized that something was seriously wrong.

First off he knew that his hearing had never been good enough to pick up the squeaks of the rats in the walls, or the steady thump thumping on the other side of the door. Nor had he been able to pick up the smells of what he assumed, what his instincts told him, were Deatheaters.

And speaking of instincts, they told him to open his eyes and look around. He did so quickly and was startled to find that he could see everything in the cell perfectly, despite the fact that the cell had no torches or lights in sight.

And finally he noticed that his head was pillowed on something soft, yet firm, and that whatever it was…was well, rumbling. Harry shot up despite lingering pains and stiffness in his body. He briefly wondered how it was that he could have healed so quickly without the aid of magic, but then wondered how long he'd been unconcious.

He turned his attention to his "pillow", which turned out to be a man. A smirking man with bright blue eyes and a shock of two-toned hair; brown at the roots and blond towards the ends. "Wh…" Harry trailed off, unable to form the words he'd wanted to speak. The man lost his smirk and it was replaced with a kind smile.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Harry sat back on his haunches and nearly fell backwards. He caught himself in time and the man frowned in concern.

"Why don't you introduce us?" Harry jumped – nearly out of his skin – and turned towards the other man he hadn't previously noticed. "And explain."

"I'm getting there Peaches." Harry turned back to the man in front of him. "My name is Spike. And that broody ponce in the corner is Angel. "Harry's lips twitched. "Yeh, odd name. Short form of Angelus, which means something poncey. Can't really remember. Anyway, do you remember what happened?"

"I… was captured." Harry said once he regained the use of his voice. "Then tortured."

"Yeh. The gits in the black dresses and masks hurt you real bad." Spike said.

"Robes." Harry corrected. "They wear robes."

"Yeh, right, robes. Well they threw you in with me an' Peaches. You were bad off so we fixed you."

"How?" Harry asked, shifting closer in curiosity. "What did you do?"

"Well luv, I'm a vampire. I did the only thing I could." Harry frowned and tilted his head curiously. He could guess at what the answer was and, after a moment of thought, could actually remember the blond/brown haired vampire asking him if it was all right.

It all fit. His newly heightened senses, his new instincts (which were at the time trying to tell him to crawl into the vampire's lap), the memory of the vampire asking him for his permission, and the newly discovered lack of heartbeat. "You made me like you." Spike nodded. "Because…"

"You were gonna die. I felt the power in you and I knew I couldn't let you." Harry lowered his gaze.

"How?"

"Did I turn you?" Harry nodded. "I drained the rest of your blood and fed you mine." Harry frowned but surprisingly didn't feel any disgust at the thought of drinking another's blood. Instead his stomach did a little flip and grumbled. Harry figured it was one part of being a vampire that he would have to get used to.

"There was no other way?" Harry finally asked, ignoring the now present feeling of hunger.

"None. We tried to think of one…" Spike said softly. Harry titled his head to see Angel nod in agreement.

"Okay." Harry exhaled slowly, suddenly exhausted. Spike smiled in relief. "So what now?" Harry asked drowsily. He knew he's probably be angrier over his recent bought of vampirism at a later point, but now he was too tired and hungry to make a fuss about it.

"Now you lay back down and let me feed you." Spike answered gently. Harry allowed the vampire to maneuver him into a reclining position, his head cushioned back in the vampire's lap.

"Can I have a burger?" Harry asked with a grin. Spike shook his head and stroked his black hair.

"Later. When we get out of here." Harry drowsily watched Spike slit open a wrist with a fang. He barely noticed the vampire's change of face as he did so, and instead focused on latching onto the offered wrist. He gulped down the red liquid that would forever be a part of his life from now on.

As he drifted off to sleep, he made a note to remember to ask more questions when he woke up next.

TBC

For those of you that read my last posted story, The Initiative 1, you know that my dog passed away. For those of you that didn't, well, now you know. We'll all miss her and I'll certainly never forget her.

Next update will be either tomorrow, or maybe Monday.