A Second Chance at Life Chapter 27, a harry potter fanfic

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Chapter 27

There were six of them in the room, five vampires and one mortal, if the Dark Lord could be described as mortal. And he preferred to be considered an immortal, and no one was going to question him on that.

"The mortal governments have unjustly persecuted you, and turned their citizens against you. I will give you justice and safety from them." Voldemort promised. The vampire across the table from him, a very young vampire who had only been among the undead for ten years, turned when he was thirty, nodded, he'd heard the speech before. But this particular wizard liked to hear himself talk, and as they needed him and his followers to think well of the vampires more than Voldemort needed the vampires as allies. He would sit through the self glorifying and rather endless speeches.

"When I rule the world you will have an honored place in our society, and access to anyone who dares to challenge the ruling class." Voldemort said, noting the nods and complete agreement. They really were very simple, these young vampires. Many of them were so poorly trained that his death eaters could beat them easily, but they were learning quickly and might someday become some of his best minions. And they inspired such terror.

"When do we attack?" Another vampire asked. "They've started attacking vampires on sight; it's time we fought back!" This one had been dead longer, maybe twenty years, he had been a squib before being turned, and so was not worth even a glance. The young vampires had their own hierarchy, magical ones at the top, those that had been muggles at the bottom.

"I have found a way for you to gain what you want, and for me to get back some of my death eaters that have been captured." Voldemort said once a suitable silence had passed and the vampire had realized he wasn't worthy of asking questions.

"Azkaban." The very young vampire said.

"Yes, I want my death eaters back alive and unharmed; you may take all of the others as your slaves. Though I would like to find a handful of the most powerful to recruit, I didn't think you would object much, after all the most powerful of them might prove troublesome as slaves." Voldemort said reasonably, and once again the vampire agreed.

The meeting broke up moments later as the vampires left to gather their forces and review floor plans of the prison. No one noticed three of them slip away into the night, vanishing with a skill that none of the young vampires could have matched. The master of London would not be pleased to hear of this.

"You want me to do WHAT?" The auror sentry shouted into the glowing fireplace. He immediately regretted it, he was only in his fifth week on the job and questioning a superior was not a way to keep his job, nasty as it was. Guarding Azkaban wasn't fun at the best times, and there was a war on. But they couldn't really expect him to-

"I said to STOP THEM. Whatever it takes stop the bloodsuckers and hold them until backup arrives." The angry voice barked back. The junior auror looked back at the looming fortress of Azkaban, he was on the outer most watch point by the docks, and therefore possibly the only guard left alive. It was not a reassuring thought for a young man not four years out of school.

There was no sign of movement, no flashes of light to indicate magic or the signal flares. Nothing, dark and absolutely quiet, there wasn't even a breeze stirring the single flag. The guard inside had said vampires. He'd never met a vampire before. And he wasn't looking forward to it. He was muggleborn and his mind immediately snapped to images off muggle television, were vampires anything like that? And how could he possibly be expected to stop a horde of them? And how many qualified as a horde anyway? Were any of the others alive? And why were they trying to save a bunch of death eaters in the first place? After all they already imprisoned for life, why risk their lives bothering? How many was a horde? Surely this was some sort of test, vampires wouldn't attack a prison. Would they? It was the new moon, and there was no light except for the torches, and it seemed almost unnaturally dark. Why did they have to choose the new moon? And why couldn't they go attack the bastard telling him to fight them all off?

The fire-link flared to life abruptly, turning bright green, and two people came stumbling out. One of them, with a flash of purple hair, went tripping over the coffee table and head over heels into a stool, which broke.

"Ooops, sorry about that!" She yelped, jumping up and tripping over the couch. Which rocked backwards and seemed to make a hrumph! of disapproval as it hit the floor again and rocked upright.

"Stay still Tonks, you'll bring the whole building down." The other one grumbled, charming the ash off his robes. He cast a wary look around the room and frowned at the couch and open doorway. The young man by the fire relaxed, relieved, it was auror Shacklebolt, now there was someone else making the decisions.

"Auror, there're thirty more coming through in a few moments. Keep the link open." Shacklebolt said, "Tonks and I will go take a look." The young man by the fire nodded, and watched as the two went out the door, across the short lawn, and into the fortress.

The minute they left and strong gust of wind flew through the windows and blew the door shut. As it clanged shut a figure stepped out from behind it. The auror leapt to his feet, drawing his wand in a shaky hand.

But the person was gone. He froze, and then turned quickly scanning the small circular room. There was no one. He was imagining things, just the fear of his first crisis on a job.

The vampire released his hold on the rafters and dropped, landing silently behind the auror as he let out a terrified breath and started to relax. He didn't notice the hand that grabbed his hair - until his head was yanked back and sharp white fangs bit into his neck.

The second vampire rose from behind the couch and put out the fire. There would be no reinforcements.

Shacklebolt and Tonks ran down an empty, cold, lightless hallway. There was no sign of life at all, the spider webs and dust in the corners had not been disturbed, and there were no ashes or blast marks on the wall, nothing to indicate a fight. The first cell block, reserved for those who had only committed minor crimes, was up ahead, but there was no sound from the prisoners.

The first cell had two men in it, both were slumped on the ground, unconscious, a spell cast over their necks revealed healed puncture wounds consistent with vampire bites.

"Well, at least they're alive." Tonks said shakily. She looked up and down the hall, and then moved on to the other cells. "They've all been bit bitten!"

"But not killed." Shacklebolt observed quietly. "And they weren't taken as prisoners. I wonder why?"

"You know there were no footprints on the grass as we came over," Tonks suddenly said, "they didn't get here on foot."

Shacklebolt joined her at the door leading to a spiral stairwell that led up to upper cells. He pressed an ear against the door and listened, there was no sound.

"How many are there do you think?" Tonks asked as they ran up the stairs. "I mean each vampire can only drink so much right?" Shacklebolt didn't respond.

They finished with the above ground cells, finding only unconscious criminals drained of only small amounts of blood. They didn't know how many had been in the prison originally but all the doors were locked. It seemed like everyone was inside. This of course begged the question of how the vampires had gotten to the prisoners to drink their blood if they hadn't opened the cells.

Dark blue eyes that shone with an unnatural light watched the two aurors leave, the man turning at the door to look back again. The woman was already gone. The vampire pounced.

Shacklebolt hadn't made it to his position by not being wary enough or skilled enough in a fight. But the vampire moved so fast and hit him so hard Shacklebolt didn't stand a chance. With the door suddenly closed by another vampire going after Tonks, and the illusion spells on the windows, the light of the one shield spell he got off wasn't seen outside the corridor, and there wasn't anyone left to see it anyway. Shacklebolt found himself pinned to the damp stone wall, his wand gone, both arms held behind his back, cheek pressed against the wall so hard the skin scraped off. He froze, wondering if attempting wandless magic would help. But the vampire didn't bite, and so he waited.

"We could kill them all, and all your aurors." The vampire said calmly after a few moments, in which Shacklebolt was very much aware of his own harsh breathing, and the complete lack of breath or movement from the vampire.

"Why not?" Shacklebolt snarled, trying the twist away, the vampire ignored his struggles until he stopped, finally realizing that he wasn't going anywhere. Vampiric strength - and he hadn't even heard him or sensed him. It was not an average vampire then, the commander of the invading force perhaps? Certainly old, and very powerful, to move so fast avoid detection so well.

"They're useless to us dead. And that would give your silly Ministry a cause for hating us. All the prisoners we left will be fine. The ones we took…you needn't worry about ever seeing them again." The silky voice sounded very pleased. The breath from the vampire words ghosted across his neck, the vampire was way to close to his throat and Shacklebolt tried to lean away.

"My aurors?"

"Alive and well. We drank enough to stop them from fighting, and then knocked them out. They're in the storeroom, hanging from the ceiling. Their wands are on the table."

"What do you want?"

"To make a point. And the death eaters. We didn't think you'd mind losing them. We left the innocent ones….so amusing, how weak you mortals are, that would convict the innocent. Truly you are far more despicable, for that alone, than we ever are."

"And what do are you going to do with the three of us?" Shacklebolt asked, assuming that they would have some how stopped the fire-link. There would be no reinforcements.

"Drink a little of your blood," a tongue licked at the vein in his neck, Shacklebolt tried to move away, the vampire scraped a fang over his skin warningly. "And then we'll send you back to the idiots who run your world."

Shacklebolt thought fast, finally decided to minimize the damage to himself, and did not fight as the vampire's fangs sliced the vein in his throat.

Beyond the door a second vampire picked up an unconscious Tonks, checked to make sure the wounds on her neck had healed, and carried her out of the prison and back to the guard room. Here he opened a one-way link and tossed her through, followed by the young guard.

"Lord Hadrian?" The master of London turned as he heard someone searching for him. Unblocking his mind he let his magical presence flow away from him and felt the searcher pause and change direction. A moment later Andrew Farov appeared at the doorway to his office where he had been pacing, waiting for the attack party to return.

"The raid was successful. All the captives are in the cells."

"The vampires Voldemort sent?" That had been the primary reason for the attack, to stop the young vampires who had sided with Voldemort. And to make a point to the Ministry of Magic.

"Also in the cells, drained until they are nearly unconscious. Ambrosius's guards are looking after them." Farov said with distaste, which was not lost on Hadrian. He had three vampires who could each be considered his second-in-command. And they did not get along very well. Thank goodness Kylara was off meeting with her sister, Cyala Ateres, otherwise he'd have had all three of them fighting over who got to do what about this first fight.

Farov watched his master start pacing again, wondering exactly how quickly the war between the elder vampires and the hordes of young ones would escalate. There had been almost five thousand vampires killed across Russia in the past two weeks alone. And the remaining ones were fleeing into neighboring countries. They hadn't gotten any refugees yet, but it was only a matter of time. He couldn't wait.

"Soon, Farov, we'll be going after them soon enough." His master had either read his mind or been thinking the same thing. Farov shifted nervously, he didn't like having his mind read, and Lord Hadrian knew it.

"Would it be possible to keep our young prisoners around for a while, to train against and to feed from?" He asked. He was training some new recruits, and while sparring was all well and good it was better to actually practice killing.

"That would give some variety now wouldn't it?" Hadrian mused. Not all blood was the same, muggles were different from magic folk, who were different tasting from squibs, who were different from non-magical vampires, who were different from magical vampires. For a species that needed blood, mostly human blood, the vampires might be a bit restricted, but there were so many flavors. Even different ethnic group tasted different, and within each such group were magical and nonmagical varieties, vampires and nonvampires. Only usually drinking the blood of another vampire was a bit difficult. Farov was waiting for a reply.

"Perhaps, find out how different our captives are, keep the best of them," He finally decided.

"I'll get the guards working on it." Farov said with a nasty grin. Hadrian hummed and Farov paused, waiting again while the master vampire paced.

"I am calling in all the vampires in the country." Hadrian informed his second. Not having to say that he did not mean all the vampires. Just those that were loyal to him and whose presence in his territory he recognized. There were only about four hundred of those. And possibly several thousand he had not acknowledged.

"Not all of them want mortal slaves." Farov reminded him.

"I know that. But I need to meet with them all anyway. Perhaps I'll serve them our vampire captives at the meeting, hm?" He paused a moment, pacing, and heard Farov shift restlessly. His second had a question but he wasn't sure if it was safe to ask it, fortunately Hadrian knew what he wanted anyway. "Naturally those of higher rank will have the first choice. How many did you take from the prison?"

"Fifty eight."

"You may pick two if you like, no more." Farov grinned again and bowed, then turned to leave, Hadrian waited until he'd reached the door before speaking "call in Alastor. Tomorrow night at ten." Farov nodded and left. Leaving his master wearily rubbing his eyes and wondering if the mortals would remove their absurd laws, and what was he going to have to if they didn't? Declare an all-out war?

"Damn you Voldemort." Hadrian hissed into the dawn. "If it was just the mortals I might be able to handle it. Everything was going according to plan until you showed up." Voldemort had managed to ruin so many years worth of planning. They had been so careful; all the young vampires with leadership ability had been removed, leaving them with no rally point once the executions started. Then the mortals had started acting up, and the young were always quick to anger and even quicker to try to find vengeance. And Voldemort had offered to help.

The blinds closed automatically as the sun rose, blocking out all the light. While Hadrian had enough bloodmagics that sunlight would not harm him, that didn't mean he liked it. The sun's rays were still annoying, just no longer harmful. Hadrian felt the usual exhaustion and call for the dead sleep that came with the dawn, but he had work to do. Voldemort had originated in his territory, and so had the latest anti-vampire movement, and so he had to keep the others updated. Well, not all of them, those that he approved of. And the ancients, it would never do to forget them. Perhaps he would invite them to his gathering. It had been a long time since they had all gotten together. And Voldemort was rapidly going international, and the anti-vampire laws already were.

Hadrian opened an ancient file cabinet where he kept records of every master vampire and ancient, and every other vampire of note. Some of them would be unreachable, some of them always were. Some of them hadn't been heard from by anyone for well over a thousand years. But there was no harm in trying. And maybe this time they would listen. Their species was on the brink of multiple wars and it wouldn't do to be unorganized.

And the ancients who no one knew about…there was always the eldest for that, Namach would not ignore his request for the records of their names.

XXXX

"They are really keeping them as slaves then?" Hermione asked, looking positively horrified. Rahkesh – Harry today, nodded.

"Yes, they are."

"And you're okay with this!" Hermione finally snapped, loudly, Harry reinforced the silencing and anti-eavesdropping and garbling wards.

"Yes. With vampires there is no room for mistakes. They take only the guilty. Those they left behind, some of them hate vampires, but they were thrown into Azkaban while being innocent of any crime, and so the vampires left them. I don't agree with slavery Hermione, but you can't fight everyone on everything, and I've chosen not to fight them on this. So far they're being pretty reasonable." Harry explained. It would be in the Prophet the next day, or maybe the day after. He'd asked to be notified before anything happened and the vampires had kept their word.

Hermione hrumphed and looked away. Harry waited; her common sense should kick in eventually. Even if she did tend to go overboard about issues like this she was still more likely to see that it wasn't something to be fighting over than Ron was.

"I suppose so." Hermione said finally, "but I don't like it Harry, I really don't. Who's to say they won't be enslaving or killing everybody next?"

"No one. But I do trust the old ones, somewhat. And, really, these are the death eaters we're talking about. You'll have to excuse me if I'm not too concerned about the Lestrangs."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Then she pulled out a letter and handed it to him. "Professor McMonagal said to give that to you."

"She thinks you're in contact with me?" Harry replied, not touching the letter on the table.

"Everyone thinks we're in contact with you. A lot of students have been asking me where you are and what you're doing. I think they're confused, they wish you were around to stop the death eaters and vampires."

Harry summoned the letter into his bag; he'd check it for spells in a pub down in Hogsmead before going back to Akren.

"About time they stopped relying on a savior and started taking care of themselves." He said finally, forgetting to watch his voice and realizing too late that a bit of the contempt he felt for most of the world had gotten out.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head, "they're frightened. They've been told all there lives there was nothing to worry about because you had stopped Voldemort, and then you were always there for six years, and now you're not. Of course they're confused."

"I don't see anything confusing about it; they have to learn to stand up for themselves. Doesn't seem so difficult." Hermione sighed and started shaking her head again. "And I'm on the vampire's side anyway. Though I will get rid of Voldemort eventually they're going to have to deal with the vampires and other magical creatures on their own."

"They won't Harry. They hate the vampires, and everyone's terrified of them. I tried to talk to Ron about it and he wants to become a vampire hunter and kill them all." Hermione said. Harry wasn't surprised to hear any of it. Ron would go for anyhting that would promise glory. Though he had held on to some, unreasonable, hope that Ron wouldn't be such an idiot. His old friend tended to be radical in the actions he wanted to take and completely unreasonable. And Harry didn't think he could talk Ron out of it. Vampires were supposed to be dark and Ron had been raised in a 'light' household. With almost no real world experience and a tendency to be extremely bigoted and self righteous Ron was everything the vampires hated.

"He's in danger Hermione, Ron is. They truly despise people who think that there actions are 'good' and that they can never be wrong. You know how self-righteous Ron gets, and how he never likes to think things out from anyone's view but his own. They'll take him if they possibly can, he's everything they want to get rid of. His age will protect him, but not for long." Harry said softly. Hermione nodded, she had probably already figured that out.

"How's Ginny doing?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, it's difficult to tell. She seems to be thinking a lot. You know she was upset for a long time, couldn't believe you'd leave us behind. But she mentioned the other day that she could understand why you thought you had to do this. She really misses you Harry."

"I know. I'm glad to hear she isn't throwing a fit anymore."

"She wanted to be here, but her mother called her home for the weekend, they're discussing what they are going to do. I talked it over with her like you asked. And Fred and George stopped by."

"I know, I sent them."

"She didn't say what she was thinking of doing for her last year of school. McGonagal is planning on closing the school…well…the Board of Directors is planning on closing the school. McGonagal doesn't agree, I don't think. And you know what she can be like when she's decided something. She may keep the school open anyway."

"She shouldn't, better to send them elsewhere right now." Harry said, well aware that the headmistress was listening in via the (empty) portrait in the corner. "Your parents?"

"They want me to leave the country for a few years. But they're not going to make me." Hermione said, she was biting her lip, just a little bit, a sure sign she was undecided. Harry didn't push it, not just yet. She was safe for a bit longer, he'd talked to Silas who had told him that vampires didn't usually take the young as prisoners, and avoided killing them, sometimes. If they were going to kill the parent, or enslave them, then they either made sure the child understood and was okay with it, or killed/enslaved the child as well, so that there was no one out there with a grudge. Simple survival strategy. Harry could understand, even if he didn't really like it.

He left a half hour later, feeling better about his old friends than he had in many months, and very disappointed with Ron. He hadn't wanted to talk this over with his former best friend himself just yet. Ron was more likely to listen to Hermione. He was still feeling betrayed and would just say Harry had joined the dark, or just the vampires. Harry wasn't in the mood for a fight.

XXXX

"Good grief, talk about stupid." Daray muttered.

"Who?" Rahkesh asked, looking up from his oatmeal. They'd just finished another lesson on animagi and he had found himself too queasy to eat anything but unflavored oatmeal. Well, he could have tried the ham or bacon, since both his forms were carnivores, but somehow cooked meat didn't agree with him, and the all too appetizing thought of bloody fresh-killed meat was making him worry about his mental stability.

"Vampire gang/club thingy, they were all mortals who were turned later in life. Got together and fed on drunken mortals, that's how vampires get drunk, in a muggle bar." Daray explained. Rahkesh winced, talk about bad judgment. Drunk vampires and lots of mortals never mixed well, never.

"And that old yahoo who's got the Central American vampires is a tizzy went and whacked them all for being idiots." Silas finished, handing Rahkesh a copy of the paper, a vampire newspaper called The Undead - written about vampires, for vampires, by vampires. The article detailed the ongoing not-so-serious hunt for the ancient's identity. Apparently no one really cared since he/she appeared to be doing the vampiric species a great service by removing idiots and extra young ones from existence.

"I thought this sort of thing was our family's job?" Daray asked.

"We don't have anyone working in that part of the world right now." Silas reminded him, "not much point with this one around, and he seems mildly insane so we might as well leave him alone, unless he becomes a problem, which he hasn't."

"And no one has seen this person so we don't even have a physical description to go on for finding out who they are. And they mutilate the bodies so badly, after draining them of blood, that we're not sure we want to meet this chap." Daray agreed.

"Sharahak?" Rahkesh asked. The two cousins thought about that for a few moments.

"Unlikely. He's a demon now, why get involved in anything beyond himself?" Daray asked. The dining hall doors banged open, stopping all conversation and causing all heads to turn.

"Hey! Take a look at this!" Tyler said, rushing breathlessly into the dining hall and tossing a paper on the table. It was a copy of the Daily Prophet. Rahkesh picked it up and read aloud.

"Vampires Raid Azkaban – Aurors Sending Thank-you Letter." He looked up to see quizzical expressions. "Azkaban is a magical prison. Guarded by dementors, or it was, they all went and joined Voldemort."

"They raided a prison? Why?" Daray asked. Rahkesh shrugged and began to read again. He had been informed beforehand via the werewolf Daniel, but he had to be careful, very careful, in everything that dealt with his home.

"In an interview with the Prophet, Andrew Farov, agent and advisor of the master of London, explained why they chose Azkaban. "We're hoping to show the wizarding world that while we do not approve of their recent new laws, we will only harm those that think vampires are inherently evil, or hate us without having ever met one of us, or dislike us because they think they are superior. The prisoners we took thought all of those things – we can read minds you know. The vast majority of death eaters believe they are superior to vampires, and most of the prisoners were death eaters, though there was one man in there who was innocent, we left him behind. We took other prisoners who were not death eaters because they were similar mentally – hate vampires for no reason, never met any one of us, think they're superior – those are the only people we harm." Aurors and Unspeakables, who almost unanimously disapprove of the new laws, sent the vampires a thank-you letter for choosing such a relatively non-violent way of showing their annoyance with the recent vampire bounties. An anonymous Unspeakable says "we are aware that they could have wiped out the entire Ministry of Magic, and would be justified in doing so, but they did not. Instead they got rid of those who were imprisoned for life, and gave us a second chance to repeal these laws. Were I a vampire I would not be that kind, and I thank them for their tolerance for us mortals.""

"It goes on for a bit about what the new laws are, but that's the basics of it." Rahkesh finished. He flipped a page and found a list of the missing people. Much to his delight Lucius Malfoy was on the list; the man had managed to get himself out of Azkaban, but had been hunted down and rearrested only a week earlier by Shacklebolt and Tonks. And now Malfoy senior was a prisoner of the vampires. Rahkesh managed to conceal his delight – it wouldn't do to show too much interest. Everyone but the headmistress thought he was home schooled and had been isolated most of his life. How wonderful, he'd have to find out somehow what had become of the man. Perhaps Moody would make an inquiry with the vampires and let him know. Rahkesh, knowing the vampire's tastes, thought the aristocrat was likely to wind up on the menu at when of the vampire get-togethers. What would Draco Malfoy think of that…actually Rahkesh hadn't any idea what had become of Malfoy junior. Other than hoping to someday meet him on a battlefield so that he could practice some particularly nasty curses on him Rahkesh hadn't given him much thought. The vampires would find out about the son through his father's mind, and would probably hunt him down too. Well Rahkesh didn't feel much pity for either of them.

"This is the first time in several hundred years that the vampires have staged an organized attack backed by a master vampire against the mortals." Tyler said, "guess the hometown's gotten a bit rough." She added to Rahkesh, who shrugged as if it didn't really matter, it shouldn't, but it did.

"I bet this has the other masters going nuts." Ally said, 'they didn't publicly agree to what was to be done yet. Not that they ever really agree anyway. And now the other anti-vampire countries will be going crazy, this just hoping one nasty can of worms."

"Uncle Grath thinks the some family members should branch out into the slave trade. Two or three of our relatives could start a small trading business." Silas said quietly. The cousins got almost daily updates on the family business and who was where killing whom.

"Grandmother hasn't owned slaves in over six hundred years." Daray commented.

"Keeping large stables of slaves went out of style after the Plague finished with Europe and Asia." Rianae explained for the three mortals. "But it's very popular in Africa and South America, and slavery has been making a comeback everywhere else in the last two centuries."

"So long as we don't get involved in any way I really don't care." Ally said. Rahkesh frowned and decided to not give an opinion just yet. He did not really approve, but he knew that vampires only enslaved those they hated, and the slaves they took never reproduced, so no one could be born into the vampiric slave system. And he really couldn't bring himself to care about the likes of Lucius Malfoy.

It was disturbing, how his homeland had started appearing in news that his fellow students cared about. He had hoped to leave all mention of his home behind, it made things easier that way. But the problems were spreading, and now had caught massive international attention. All it would take was a few questions, Rahkesh was never more aware of exactly how thin his cover was as he was when the morning paper arrived, talking about events happening in his homeland, that everyone suddenly cared to read about.

He could only imagine what would happen if anyone in Akren found out he was some sort of hero for good. It would be possibly his worst nightmare. Possibly even worse. They'd just finished brewing a potion that removed selected pieces of a person's memory, definitely not "light" by any definition of the word. And before that they'd been working on a type of slow acting poison that made the drinker behave so despicably to everyone around them that by the time they died they were universally hated. He could just hear the jokes starting. The older students would never let him live it down. Aken's pet light wizard. Who was currently learning the "art" of skinning someone alive in combat. And torn between enjoying it, and hating himself for doing so.

"Come on Rahkesh, we have class, and I'm not dealing with his temper again." Silas said, elbowing him. Rahkesh blinked and got up, dropping the paper into his bag. They had five minutes before bloodmagic class started. And Vaeryes joyfully cursed anyone who was late. Last time he'd used bloodmagic to create whips of fire, which had cut one of Rahkesh's ears in half. Fortunately he knew the correct healing spells.

"I see you managed to make it here on time." Vaeryes said silkily, the look on his face was completely unreadable but Rahkesh guessed he was disappointed.

"Sorry, I know how you look forward to cursing us." Rahkesh apologized without the slightest sincerity. Vaeryes's eye sparked briefly and the gleam of his bloodmagic runes against his albino skin intensified, for an instant. Then he was calm and unreadable again. Rahkesh moved past him and sat down quickly, wand ready incase Vaeryes decided to attack. There was not a single rule protecting the students of Akren from their teachers in any way, but for the no-killing-in-the-school rule. Vaeryes was free to do whatever he wanted. And he did not approve of how quickly Rahkesh and his friends had moved along with their studies. Though most other professors rewarded the better students, Vaeryes simple did not like his three youngest students. He would smile and nod at the other good students, and pick on the poor ones, but he just didn't like having first year students in his class. Though Rahkesh suspected that Vaeryes actually had started to gain certain amount of grudging respect for the three of them. And he didn't mind being picked on more than anyone else. Where at Hogwarts he would have complained about how unfair it was Rahkesh had quickly realized that here being forced to do better work more quickly just made him improve faster than the other students. Which put him even further ahead of them.

Today they were starting on the more advanced uses of bloodmagic. Besides improving on yourself bloodmagic could be used for other things. Vaeryes had demonstrated his use of it to create fire whips last class. It could be used for healing, mind magics, divination, enchantments, warding, necromancy, soul magic, and a whole host of other things. Rahkesh would have liked to have the time to learn everything about it, but he was focused on the soul magic and necromancy.

There was no doubt that Voldemort knew some necromancy, but Rahkesh doubted he knew bloodmagic necromancy, which was the most powerful form. With it Rahkesh could take control of Voldemort's inferi, and the human-life eradicating enchantments most non-bloodmagic-using necromancy used to guard things. With the soul magic Rahkesh could destroy the horcruxes while protecting himself. If they contained the rudimentary soul magic enchantments Rahkesh thought they might then he would be prepared to remove those.

Vaeryes was droning on about how most of those who progressed into soul magic and necromancy had to inject liquid fire into themselves, something Rahkesh would never have to deal with. Rahkesh glanced towards the window, it was dark out despite it being midday, and an early-spring thunderstorm was brewing, he was so tired, the animagi work had been exhausting this morning.

He could feel electrified air flowing across his wings. And power, the endless roiling power that swamped his senses and manifested itself in the thunderous booms his wings made and the crackle of magical discharge that leaped from his body.

The mountaintops dropped off below, hidden behind black clouds. Rahkesh dove back into the clouds, and let his magics loose. The air lit up, painfully bright, with lightning that leaped between the clouds until the entire mass of the storm was glowing. The rolls of thunder became more and more frequent until the noise was continuous and deafening.

Rahkesh blinked, he was in class, he had fallen asleep. Everyone was working. He jumped as a shock sparked across his fingers. Then he felt his hair shifting and rising along his arms. Electricity sparked across his body, Rahkesh unconsciously threw up a silencing charm.

His animagus form was trying to break free. He could feel feathers, that didn't exist yet, as if they were sweeping the air, trying to take flight. This wasn't supposed to be happening! He had to get out of here.

Not caring that Vaeryes would give him hell for it later, Rahkesh grabbed his books and walked quickly out of the room, leaving the class staring after him in surprise.

Outside he hurried through the corridors, until he found the hidden door Ally had shown him, where the massive tunnel that ran straight up and out the top of the mountain was. Rahkesh slipped inside and dropped his things in a corner. His body was starting to hurt horribly. His joints ached. And the air was visibly crackling about him. He could feel the power building, and knew he couldn't hold it back. This shouldn't be happening, the professor had said he would take another month until he could try to transform. But, as with everything else, Rahkesh wasn't anyone's definition of normal, or predictable.

Rahkesh took a calming breathe, though it did nothing to calm him, and closed his eyes, carefully he began his occlumency exercises, but instead of walling his mind up, he dipped inside, and found the section that was starting to come alive, and let it go.

He started screaming almost immediately, the cruciatus curse was nothing compared to this. It wasn't pain, it was magic, too much magic. Too much magic for a human body to handle. Rahkesh reached for the feeling of the feathers, of the air again, and felt himself change.

They had been told that they would practice transforming a little bit at a time, until their whole bodies changed. But this was instantaneous. One moment he was human, the next he wasn't.

Rahkesh was unaware of the shaft expanding to make room for the massive wings that unfolded from his now feather back. He was unaware of anything but the crackling power that covered him like a cloak, and the deafening roll of thunder that accompanied his transformation.

His animagus self wanted to feel the moving air again and Rahkesh agreed. And suddenly he was airborne, beating huge wings as he rose upwards towards the sky, that now lit up with lightning leaping between the clouds.

His animagus form was one of uncontrolled fury, and endless rage and power, Rahkesh had known that before hand. And so he was not surprised when he felt the need to super-charge the thunder storm above him, driving it to immense proportions impossible even with magic, any magic except his. This creature reveled in the roar of sound and power of the thunderstorm. And it wanted to play. Rahkesh carefully reeled himself in and stopped himself from letting the magics loose. Not so close to Akren.

He shot skyward out of the top of the mountain, and quickly burst into the middle of the clouds. No one could see him here.

Realizing that his species was immensely powerful, and enjoyed nothing more than using that power, Rahkesh began to release massive amounts of energy.

For those within the school it was a storm that few had ever seen the equal of. The thunder picked up in frequency until it became a nonstop crash and rumble. The sky lit up in wave after wave after wave of endless lightning that scorched the air and ground. The scent of ozone became almost unbearably strong and the sound waves shook the whole mountain.

In the classroom Daray and Silas traded looks, then glanced out the window at the sudden fury of the storm. Then Daray began to chuckle.

"He is so predictable. And Ally owes me one of her portkeys." Silas turned to stare at his cousin.

"You were betting on his animagus form?"

"Yep."

"He's not going to like that."

"What's he going to do? Electrocute me? I'm a vampire." Daray said. "Ally is going to be so pissed."

Up in his office Namach threw open the door to his balcony and walked out, ignoring the rain, to watch. With the lightning now so continuous that he could not tell where one bolt began and ended the clouds like fresh snow under intense sunlight. And between the endless flashes the form of an immense bird was visible, a dark wavering shadow amongst the glare and crackle of lightning.

The ancient shook his head and reached out with his mind. He sensed the overpowering presence and fiery spirit of the thunderbird and followed it to the mind of his student.

Rahkesh? If you wouldn't mind coming in now? That's enough for one day.-

A crash of thunder and brilliant flash of lightning, more powerful than any yet was the reply. You didn't tell a thunderbird what to do. And this one had been held back within a human body for far too long. Namach sighed and reached out again, requesting this time that since Rahkesh didn't have much of a choice, this magic needed to be discharged before he could transform back, could he at least take it elsewhere?

The thunderbird screamed, a sound between a lion's roar and dragons scream. Seconds later the sound waves and thunderous noise of a single beat of the massive wings made the earth tremble. Then the bird was higher up and flying away, taking the storm with it.

The ancient vampire went back inside, drying himself off wandlessly and heading for the headmistresses office. This was not good.

Thunderbirds were untamable, notorious for their lack of anything resembling calm, and probably one of the most powerful species to ever exist.

If Rahkesh had a thunderbird as an animagus form, then he was in real trouble. The thunderbird would not give way for anything, including Rahkesh's own mind. Thunderbirds were obsessed with their magic. The only way Rahkesh could ever gain control over his animagus form, would be if he had another animagus form powerful enough to match the thunderbird. And that was highly unlikely.

The last thing they needed as a student who spontaneously created massive thunderstorms. Rahkesh had to learn his next animagus form quickly, and it had to be a form that could meet a thunderbird with equal strength.

And there was almost nothing was powerful as a thunderbird. If Rahkesh didn't get another form soon, the thunderbird would consume his mind.

Haha! There were a few people who predicted that. Well done.

Please review.

I was JOKING about the whole stone age thing. Just wanted to see what the response was. Ron is very unpopular, Voldemort probably has more fans. Interesting. (insert psychotic giggles).

I have finals and several papers due next week so I'm apologizing in advance if the next chapter is a bit late.