Okay, so I'm going to be using the service to reply to reviews…so if you leave signed responses I'll get back to you. And if you don't, I love you anyway /grins/ but I figure this will be much easier than my old way of doing things which could take hours at a time…so…change is good and all that jazz…
Oh, and a plothole was pointed out to me, and I kina worked at fixing it, but you're going to have to work with me…I adjusted the spell on Harry's eyes so that it only makes him blind in lighted areas, and whenever he does something normally…we're going to pretend that there's some sort of echolocation device on him that works so good, it's like he's not blind…/sighs/ plotholes suck…if only I could stay on top of things…
Chapter Twenty-Six
Harry jumped down the last two steps of the staircase and came face to face with Dumbledore.
"Ah, Harry, just the young man I was looking for," Dumbledore said with a bright smile. "Lemon drop?"
Harry felt his eyebrows hit his hairline and he shook his head, feeling his anger start to well up from not having a proper outlet… and he asked, "Is this going to take long, because I have something to do."
"Well, my dear boy, I suppose I could shorten the conversation a bit," Dumbledore replied, nonplused, "Where were you headed, I'll walk with you."
Harry nodded in the direction Dumbledore appeared to be coming from. And Dumbledore nodded and turned around.
"My dear boy," Dumbledore said with a friendly smile, "I know that with all the happenings recently, you and I haven't had much of a chance to speak. So I was wondering if there was anything you would like to talk to me about."
Harry looked up at the man with a guarded expression, this was interesting. "Like what?" Harry asked curiously.
"Just anything my boy," Dumbledore replied, "if something has happened that you're uncomfortable about, or if there's someone that you would like avoid…"
Harry instantly knew what Dumbledore was offering now. He was offering to keep him away from Voldemort, and Sin. He was giving Harry a chance to stop his vampire development in its tracks and continue on with life as a stronger, faster, better person who could sense the blood of others. He was offering Harry a chance to escape the strange "development" between Voldemort and himself…and were Harry any less angry and spiteful he might've considered it.
"Thanks for the opportunity headmaster, but I don't think I'd like to talk about it," Harry replied.
"Take a moment more to think my boy," Dumbledore encouraged kindly, "because this opportunity might not come up again. Things have become very busy around here, you know. And I just want you to know that if you decide to talk to me about what's been going on, I can promise you my complete understanding and secrecy."
That begged thought.
Harry knew if and when what happened while he was kidnapped came out it would not be received kindly. Harry didn't want to think about what could happen to him if the people at the ministry put their minds to eliminating an enemy sympathizer…Dumbledore was offering to keep all of that from happening, only he and Harry would know was what he was promising…
And then what would happen, Harry asked himself? He could settle down with Ginny, have babies—that would probably be someone else's. He would be hidden away; it would have to be someone nearly impossibly to find…maybe in the North Pole—so Sin wouldn't find him. Sin could find him anywhere.
Harry stopped and looked at Dumbledore, wondering if the future he offered him was what Harry wanted…
"Thank you for the offer," Harry replied, smiling, "but I don't think I want to talk about it sir."
They were enemies now, Harry knew.
Harry found the magic class door open, and Auntie Carrie was perched in her chair, her feet propped on her desk reading a thick novel that Harry recognized as a romance novel.
"Persus," Auntie Carrie greeted, not once looking up from her romance novel.
"Do you ever leave here?" Harry demanded as he walked into the room. Auntie Carrie looked up at him over her novel.
"Quite snippy aren't you, Persus?" Auntie Carrie asked, and then she continued, a wicked grin on her face, her tone mocking, "Would you like to talk?"
Harry glared, he was not amused.
"Now, I believe you asked me something, Persus," Auntie Carrie continued unalarmed by Harry's glare. "I can't quite recall what it was."
"Do you ever leave?" Harry asked again, wondering why he was humoring her.
"And loose my immortality," Auntie Carrie demanded in utter shock, "and my lover: the god of war?" She shook her head, grinning all the while, "I think not."
Harry's brow scrunched in utter confusion, and he wondered just how close his jaw was to the floor.
"Go right ahead Persus," Auntie Carrie encouraged, "say I'm weird."
"I don't know if weird is the word," Harry replied, "but you're certainly something."
Auntie Carrie laughed at that and she smiled and asked, "So how can I help you Persus?"
Now, Harry felt a bit nervous. "Those extra classes," he replied, "are they still available?"
"For you Persus?" Auntie Carrie said, her face split with an almost disturbing smile—made all the worse because Harry couldn't figure her motives on this, or anything, "almost anything is available."
The lights in the room began darkening and took on a reddish tint, and the shadows on Auntie Carrie made her look powerful and dangerous, and this made her appear highly alluring to the part of Harry that now lusted after the blood that gave a powerful person life…
"I guess I'll be leaving," Harry murmured softly, beginning to be a bit freaked out.
"I'll see you in class," Auntie Carrie said, bidding him farewell, "We'll discuss your schedule then."
Harry nodded and walked out of the classroom, and seconds later Auntie Carrie called out to him:
"Congratulations, by the way, Persus," She told him, "on your alliance with the dark."
Harry looked back into the room and saw it overcast with shadows, and he swore he heard her say "from both of us." But Harry wasn't going back to check.
Halfway down the staircase the castle began feeling odd, cold and malignant. Harry decided to spare it no thought and continued on his way back to…
Oh, yes, he couldn't go back to the dormitory because Ginny and Dean would be there, and while Harry looked forward to ruining them, he needed a bit of a break first.
Harry plopped down in an alcove and something fell out of his pocket…it was the letter, Harry reached down and carefully picked it up, the envelope was worn and creased, and felt soft to Harry's fingers.
Harry ripped the sealed edge of the envelope open and pulled the letter out.
Small, precise words filled the top half of the paper, and then at the bottom a huge, messy signature scratched its way across the parchment.
Harry quickly read the letter and finished it with disbelief, and stood up looking around the hallway. That same strange feel was still pervading the castle, and Harry felt even more aware of it—it made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rise. His teeth began tingling oddly, yet again.
It a lapse of sanity Harry thought that the castle might be rejecting him…like he was a transplant or disease…
Harry clasped the letter in his hand and looked around the deserted stone walls he was currently biding his time in. Where was he going to go now? Pieces of the bent paper poked into his hand and Harry shook that idea of his head, there was no way—he was considering it though.
But what would it get him?
No one could ever know.
"I'm hungry," Harry whined, tossing his head back on the couch, pressing his eyes closed, "please, Sin…"
When he opened his eyes, they were glowing with swirls of red folding through the bright green of his eyes. Sin just grinned and asked, "Just how long is this story from here?"
"Not much longer," Harry replied, "please, Sin, I'm so hungry."
"If it's not that much longer then you can stand to tell me the rest of it," Sin replied.
"Who in hell let you be able to have kids," Harry demanded, "they ought to have their ass kicked."
"I'll be sure to pass that on to my sire." Sin replied, "Now if you're hungry I suggest you continue."
Harry closed his eyes as the rain began pouring down, the parchment he'd been clinging to had long ago dissolved in his hand, but he continued walking. He had probably been at this all night.
There was a strange, off-balancing feeling in his head, and Harry nearly fell from it. What in hell had that been?
Wait one minute…
Harry was in an entirely different place than he'd been before. Rain was still beating down on Harry's head though, and he was still soaked through and through.
Harry opened his hand which held the soggy letter and was surprised to see that a few words were still intact; Harry held his hand out, palm up and waited for all the destroyed paper to get washed from his hand.
As the cold rain soaked his clothes he began to realize just how silly he was being…sure Ginny cheated on him, and Dumbledore all but declared war on him, and he was in a rebellious mood, but did it really make any sense at all to run away to Voldemort just to get back at everyone and have them never know?
Because no one could ever know or Harry would be beheaded…or something similarly horrifying. Harry simply couldn't see himself getting away with this in any way…
But really, what was the point of doing something despicable if no one ever knew. Harry's mind drifted to the kids who got tattoos against their parent's wishes, he wondered what the point of that was…maybe it was just the private satisfaction that they could go against their parents or the thrill that they could be found out…
Harry smirked and continued walking through the cold rain.
A rough cheek scraped across Harry's own, humid breath drifting over his skin like warm, wet insubstantial fingers, and lips pushed around the edge of his mouthing something…probably a spell, if the almost painful electric pulses flowing through his chilled body were anything to go by.
Harry couldn't remember quite how he got here, his head rolled back and the lips simply slipped down to his neck where they sucked and kissed. Every so often a warm, wet tongue would lave across his jugular and then twine its way back down.
Hands closed around Harry's face and then a voice compelled, "Open your eyes."
Harry fought against the feverish lethargy of his body and managed to crack his eyes open, long enough to see smiling red eyes, then his eyes slid closed and lips teased at his.
"You have a dreadful fever," Harry was told, the hot breath of the other person flitting across his lips.
"Then why are you snogging me?" Harry croaked, flushing at how weak his voice sounded.
"Good question," the other person replied, and Harry felt the mattress below him shift and to his surprise a hot male body settled besides Harry's own. The clothes the other person wore, pressing into Harry's bare skin.
A cool hand touched Harry's cheeks and lips pressed against Harry's once more, before slipping down to his neck. Another hand pressed into Harry's sore chest, he was sore all over though, and began rubbing lightly up and down Harry's torso.
Teeth scrapped down to Harry's chest and Harry tried to remember how words worked, and asked, "Why are you—if I'm sick?"
The mattress jostled in response and then a naked, firm chest was pressed against Harry's, "I've heard skin on skin contact does wonders for helping people heal."
Harry groaned deeply and arched his back when a cool hand grasped at him.
"You're waking up I see," the same soft voice from Harry's dream told him, and Harry's mind felt befuddled, much like it did in his dream, "you're lucky I found you when I did."
A freezing cold wet rag was pressed to Harry's forehead, and Harry shuddered violently, feeling himself becoming wracked with chills.
"Can you understand me all right or are you still delusional?" the voice asked, caressing him gently like the cool rag on his forehead.
"I can," Harry replied slowly, "my dream?"
"You had a dream?" the man asked, "what about it?"
"It's," Harry ground out, tying to organize his thoughts, and then hot lips pressed against his and the cool rag was removed from his forehead.
"Are you having chills again?" the man asked, "if you are I can cast a warming spell on you."
Harry shook his head slowly, his mind slowly gathering together now; he didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten here. He opened his mouth to say something and a hot, blisteringly hot, cheek was pressed to his own, whiskers on the man's face were rough against his cheek.
"Your fever's breaking," the man told him after plant a kiss to Harry's temple, "you seem to be doing better, you were looking quite iffy when I found you."
"Good," Harry breathed, hoping that was the right thing to say in such a situation.
"Very good," the man agreed, and he began licking at Harry's throat, "I've been taking care of you?"
And Harry wondered just how this man had been taking care of him.
Then it was almost like the man could understand Harry and leaned over and rubbed his cheek against Harry's once more before he began mouthing at Harry's skin, and electric pulses jolted through Harry's body…this was…just like his dream…
By far one of my fave chapters…you can thank FMA, timydamonkey, and Rihanna for this chapter…they each contributed in their own way…things will be elaborated more next chapter…