Disclaimer; JKR owns HP, AB owns Blood, I own 0. I just wish I did.

/This means people are having a psychic conversation/

Sunday morning came earlier than usual. Most of the household and Court got up early to accompany Harry and the others to his Birthright Ceremony. Harry was surprised that so many wanted to come with him, but from what he gathered of the local culture, such a ceremony was an important rite of passage and they were being polite to show their support.

Harry had asked Saetan where the ceremony would take place and was only told "The Keep" as if those two words explained everything. Apparently they did to everyone else. The extended family and kindred who wished to come left the Hall before dawn to board a coach that would travel the winds to the Keep.

Harry concentrated on remembering the preparations that Saetan had told him.

"When the time comes for you to gain your Jewels, you must descend into the abyss of your mind as deep as you can. You will feel the darkness pushing in from all sides and the power flowing through your veins. When you discover you can go no further without risking your sanity, stop and let the power flow into you. From there you will spin a web that represents your inner self. Let the power around you flow into the web through your blood. How deep in the abyss of your mind you go determines your power, think of it as a well full of water. The deeper wells have more water to draw from. Your web will hold back the darkness so you can gather strength without being overwhelmed. When you come back from the abyss the Jewels you will wear the rest of your life will be on the altar in front of you, symbolic of your inner power."

As the coach rolled to a stop, Harry broke from his reverie and took stock of his surroundings. They were on a wide ledge, about halfway up the largest mountain Harry had ever seen, snow swirled around them as almost everyone hurried into a doorway cut from the rock behind him. Looking up, he saw a truly awe inspiring sight as Ebon Askavi rose in front of him. The black mountain, the largest in the Realms and the center of the winds, could take the breath from the most hardened of hearts.

Harry was still feeling a little light headed as he entered the door, but immediately started breathing easier. He hadn't realized they were high enough that the air was so thin, but he felt better now that the spells around the Keep allowed him to breath.

Draca watched the new young man from afar. He certainly attracted powerful friends and protectors, and yet seemed to be unaffected by the sheer importance and power of the people he surrounded himself with. Did he really not know who he had befriended? Or did he know, but saw them as the people they were and not the positions they held? His interactions with Saetan and Daemon alone had her intrigued. She sniffed the air, trying to catch his psychic scent. You could tell he was a Warlord Prince from a mile off, and he scented to be powerful, but there was something else, something familiar from long ago. She would have to weave a tangled web of visions about this young man, discover why he was so important.

The Court and family assembled in a chamber deep in the heart of the Keep.

"We come to recognize Harry James Potter as one of the Blood, as a member of our society, and initiate him into his heritage as a Warlord Prince." Jaenelle was no longer the same bright caring person she had been, she was a Queen and a Priestess, her blue eyes turned to the Sapphire pools those who knew her knew to respect. "Who stands here as his mother; bringing him into the world and breathing life into his body?"

/I stand as his nest mother. I have watched him grow and stood by him. The mother of his blood died when he was still a fledgling and I have watched over him since we met./ Hedwig surprised Harry by speaking so formally. He didn't even know that she had planned to do this.

"Who stands here as his father, teaching him what it means to be Blood and Warlord Prince?"

"I stand in place of his father. His father died in his defense, but I will teach him to respect our ways." Daemon had an odd look in his eyes, almost one of pride.

"And you, do you swear to use your strength and your Jewels to protect and defend the Blood and our ways?"

"By my life, my blood, my magic, and my love, I will always protect and defend those in need whether they be Blood or not, whether human or kindred." Harry was told he had to answer this question on his own, there was no formal response. He was surprised to see the bright flash of magic appear and swirl over his heart. He had sworn a Wizard's Oath. He knew the consequences to his actions, but wasn't worried. He had known for several years now he wanted to protect others in life, and now it was merely official.

Saetan looked shocked at the burst of magic, and some others appeared interested as well, but they all knew that they could not interrupt the sacred ceremony from time immemorial.

"Prepare yourself for the journey into the Darkness."

After a few moments, "I am ready my Lady."

Jaenelle handed Harry the goblet of potion to induce his vision.

Harry was alone in the dark. He was floating with no point of reference except somehow the void seemed denser near his feet than near his head.

Remembering what Saetan said, he descended into the deep. He felt the power and darkness pressing on his mind and body threatening to overpower him, but he was stronger. He thought of everything he knew about occlumency, about clearing his mind and protecting it from outside influence. He hated to admit he was a bit of a failure in the discipline, but every little bit helped him stay calm right now.

After a half hour or so, it was hard to tell in this nowhere, he was really struggling to keep his mind and not go crazy. The overwhelming nothingness of this place was hard to deal with. His hands ached for sensation, his ears for even the sound of a breath, and oh how he wished there was something to see.

'Come on Harry, you've faced mountain trolls, giant chessboards, a basilisk the size of a semi, and that psychotic madman several times now. A little sensory deprivation will not break you. You are stronger than this. You can win. Now a little farther and we can weave the web. Do this for everyone back home counting on you.' Harry tried to keep his focus.

Eventually he was just unable to take anymore pressure on his mind. He settled down to weave. At first his web was very erratic, with no particular pattern, but then he had an epiphany about how to make his web strong. In addition to anchor threads and radial lines of any spider's web, he stretched his willpower to the absolute limits, placing anchors slightly deeper into the abyss, and solidifying them to be stronger than average. He put more of these improved anchor lines on the weaker side of the abyss, cementing it not only against the walls horizontally, but vertically as well. He didn't want this web to go anywhere. He looked over the web as a whole and saw something he had not intended to put there. Two triangles, one inside the other and inside the smaller triangle there was a symbol he recognized. In the center of his web, his source of power and self, was a lightning bolt.

He lay exhausted against his web, pleased to find it able to support him. Now that the darkness could no longer pour into his mind and overwhelm him, he opened himself to the darkness and let the power sing through his blood and mind. He lost consciousness for a short while.

Harry woke deep in the abyss, feeling alive and full of power. He remembered where he was, and that everyone was waiting for him up above. He allowed himself to slowly ascend. Saetan had warned him against rushing to leave the abyss, such a burst of power could harm anyone outside who wasn't expecting it.

He opened his eyes and stood. Cheers came from around him and people began celebrating. Jaenelle stood before him, a ceremonial dagger stained from thousands of years worth of blood in her hands.

"Come forward Harry James Potter-SaDiablo, Red Jeweled Warlord Prince, let your blood join that of those that came before you. Bond with your Jewels and remember this day the rest of your life."

Jaenelle cut his hand and let his blood flow into a small silver chalice on the altar, then let five drops fall onto the red stone that had appeared on the altar. He felt the stone with his mind, a source of power and a storehouse he could use to store his power.

Jaenelle's face softened back into her usual self. "The ceremony is over, now we can celebrate. An uncut Jewel is a very rare thing, you should feel honored. And to have birthright Red is very rare too. It's a sign of your power. Be proud what you achieved."

"Thank you."

An informal party started up, everyone feasting and talking with each other regardless of rank or Jewels. Saetan and Daemon were drinking brandy from large snifters while talking to an ancient looking man with a glass of yarbarah. Jaenelle and a group of witches were in one corner showing off their new magic tricks they had learned. He recognized most of her first circle among those with her. Lucy and Daemonar came up to him with glasses of wine looking excited.

"I guess this means welcome to the family then. Good job on getting the Red. I will look forward to seeing what you do in the future cousin." Daemonar seemed to soften his demeanor some as he extended his hand to Harry.

"Yay! Now I've got a big brother. I always wanted a brother, but all I had was this jerk!" Lucy punched Daemonar in the arm. He gave her an offended look. "And we've even got the same Jewel Dad did when he was young. I wonder if we'll ever be like him and my mother."

"I don't know about that. I have something I need to accomplish in my life, but it doesn't sound like it's on the same level as what your parents did. There's an evil warlord in my home territory who wants to rule. He is a vicious bastard and enjoys torture and murder. As soon as I can, I will find him and end the threat he represents to my people."

"Wow that sounds a lot like what my parents did. Ok, maybe their evil witch was trying to take over the whole realm not just a territory but you're still fighting evil."

"Yes, it is still a fight against evil, and that's why your parents are teaching me. This man killed my parents, my friends, and teachers, and thousands of innocents. I will not let him win."

"It is good to hear some enthusiasm for your task" a sibilant voice said from the doorway. The whole room dropped silent as the woman continued. "Harry Potter-SaDiablo, heir to the griffons it is good to meet you. I am Draca."

Harry examined the woman as she approached. She was very elegant, and quite beautiful in her own way. Her skin looked to be covered in scaled, but they appeared smooth and soft. Her psychic scent portrayed a feeling of extreme age and power.

"I am glad to meet you Draca, may I get you something to drink? I have never been called 'heir to the griffons' before, where did you hear that? Will you join our celebration?"

"I will take a glass of yarbarah if you wish. I wove a tangled web about you. It showed me thunder's child the heir to griffons in a great war with the one death did not hold the heir to snakes."

"Really," Harry was intrigued as he poured a glass of the yarbarah he had prepared specially for Saetan with his own blood and dragons blood mixed. Saetan had yet to avail himself. A whispered warming charm and a wave of his wand made it ready for Draca. "That is quite interesting. The man who calls himself Voldemort was the last heir to a man famous for speaking to snakes. He and I are the subjects of a prophecy made before my birth. He and I must one day meet and fight to determine the future of our world. I suppose with the shape of my scar I could be called thunder's child. I will have to look into the griffons though."

Draca took a sip of her yarbarah and looked pleased, "This is quite good. The visions of a tangled web are often hard to interpret. I will be weaving another now that I have spoken to you."

"I can't say I have grown used to the taste of yarbarah yet, but I will take your word for it. The blood is from two sources. One is my own blood, taken last night. The other blood is from a dragon mother I know. She and I share a connection of a sort. I bested her in a tournament a few years ago, so our blood works well together at least by the rules of magic I was taught."

The whole room had gone silent again at the mention of having blood from a dragon.

"You are full of surprises. Speaking of surprises, when you had your birthright ceremony earlier, something happened I didn't expect. Can you tell me about the craft you used when asked to commit yourself to the Blood?"

"That was something my people call a Wizard's Oath. It is a contract between me and the essence of magic or craft. I swore to protect the innocent. If I ever harm an innocent or let one come to harm when I could have prevented it, several things will result. Because of the way I said it; with my life, blood, magic, and love there are four layers of consequences. Within twenty four hours of my betrayal, everyone I love will turn their back on me and forsake me, and then my magic and craft will desert me leaving me powerless. My blood will begin seeping out of every orifice in my body and I will finally die, painfully. It is considered the ultimate level of dedication to make a Wizard's Oath for something. They all swear on at least their magic, and usually their life too."

There were gasps around the room as this sank in, and then a sound no one expected, a slow clap. Daemon walked from where his father and Geoffrey had been talking.

"And this is why I stood for you today. You would take the horrors of the world onto yourself rather than see an innocent suffer. You swore with everything in you to never allow it to happen, and that is why you will win. This is my son, and I am proud."

"There is much to be proud of; I look forward to your Offering young Prince. Please, let us forget such heavy subjects for now and return to celebrating a rare accomplishment." Draca raised her glass, "To Thunder's Child, may his strength never fail him or those he protects."

"To Harry!" thundered the response.

Saetan smiled at his young pupil later, "I must commend you. Most people find Draca unnerving. You just accepted her and asked her to join your party. And you impressed everyone when you told about your Oath. We never developed the craft to form those kind of bonds. If we had, we could just ask everyone to make such an oath and live in a safer society."

"They don't work that way unfortunately. An Oath must be given willingly or it will not work. You must strongly believe in what you swear and intend to follow through with the terms of the Oath. You could not force a prisoner to take an Oath to never commit another crime and let him leave."

"More the pity then. Still, I can't help but think you made a serious impression on those present today. Between your oath, Daemon claiming you as kin, and Draca's approval, you have definitely carved out your spot in the pecking order around here. You're probably equal to anyone in the court really."

"Why is that? I'm not anything special."

"You must understand, Draca is the oldest of the Blood. I have been alive for more than fifty thousand years. Geoffrey the librarian forgot how old he was long before I was born. We are both mere babes next to Draca. When she toasted you, she marked you as someone worthy of respect. When the eldest and most powerful show respect, everyone else can't help but follow. Your humility though does you both harm and good. It is good to stay humble and accept guidance, but you must also have confidence in your strength and status."

"I will try to keep that in mind."

"There is one other thing I need to talk with you about. You are the mellowest and friendliest Warlord Prince I have ever heard of. It is normal to get angry. It is normal to feel violent. It is part of what you are and you must learn to accept it. If you keep repressing it too long it will drive you insane and you will be worthless to everyone. Have you ever rode the killing edge and felt the anger and hatred inside?"

"Yes, twice."

"What happened and how did you deal with it?"

"The first time was a little over a year ago. I was in the middle of a battle and watched an evil witch kill the closest thing I had to a father and then laugh about it. I was absolutely murderous and lost control of myself. There are only three curses in my world that are considered Unforgivable. If you use one against another human being, it will be your last day as a free person. If they do not kill you for it, they will at the very least lock you in a prison for the rest of your life. That day was the first time I cast an Unforgivable curse. Right then, I would have thrown my life away to see her suffer first. After the fight I still had not calmed down. I was locked in a small room where I proceeded to destroy everything until I collapsed from exhaustion.

"The second time was not even a month ago. One of the teachers at my school was a spy for Voldemort. He killed the leader of our side, who I respected almost like a grandfather. Again, there was a battle and it was vicious. I couldn't stop myself and I wasn't skilled enough to kill him, so I tried to use an Unforgivable curse again. These curses require hatred and power. I had both and my anger was so powerful I didn't care that it would be my life if I were ever caught.

"If I could have, I would have killed both of them. I am not certain I would have stopped with just them. At the time, everyone who threatened my friends needed to die. Anyone who hurt an innocent was fair game, no one was safe and no one was a noncombatant. I could have killed everyone who stood against me and I wouldn't have cared. That feeling makes me sick. I despise violence and want nothing more than to live a peaceful life. Knowing I have that inside me makes me very uncomfortable."

"Good. It should make you uncomfortable. Killing should never be easy. It should leave a scar on your very soul. That you feel this way only proves you are a good person. Hate killing, despise killing, and never kill if you can avoid it. But if it ever comes down to killing an enemy or watching an innocent come to harm, kill the bastard and live with the guilt and revulsion later. You swore your very life on protecting the innocents from harm. It is better to be alive and mourning for those you had to kill than be dead."

"I suppose."

"No, don't suppose, you need to accept the part of you that will kill. It is in you and it is a part of you. When you kill, mourn for those that forced you to do so. Regret that you had to, but never regret that you did. I killed a lot of men in my time. It never got any easier. I would always feel filthy, like I could not scrub the blood from my skin and never forget the screams in my mind. I hated having to kill, but I am glad I did. Think about this and what it means to you and your destiny."