More violence I'm afraid - but nothing gory, just a few punches etc.
There's generally quite a lot of violence really.
Also sorry to those who are particular about character traits and magical creature stuff because I know that I'm not always quite on the mark when it comes to explaining things – basically if I'm not sure, I just make it up. ;) Shouldn't cause any problems!
Parseltongue Speech
Normal Speech
Enjoy!
oooooooooo
A Cold Green
Obedience
The light was dim but he could detect no obvious motion from his viewpoint on the floor. Maybe everyone had left.
Harry coughed painfully, wincing at the sharp jolts that ran through his body at the movement. He couldn't really move without causing himself pain and felt himself swimming in and out of consciousness. Each time the darkness became lighter he could make out the blurred form of his arm outstretched beside him.
He tried to wiggle his fingers but it took several seconds for them to respond. They moved and he felt the sticky liquid beneath them. Staring at this for five minutes or so, he swallowed painfully in the realisation that the liquid was his own blood.
He had probably been stabbed at some point. He didn't really remember any more. Stupid Voldemort and his games… he hated them all.
Harry closed his eyes again, hoping that this time they would never open.
Oooooooooo
(Flashback)He watched the pale man before, nerves stretched taut as the red eyes studied his tattered, bloodstained robes in amusement.
"And what makes you think I'm going to want you to come with me? You're just a boy."Harry stood his ground, trying to act a lot more confident than he felt.
"Because I will work hard for you. I can be better than any of your Death Eaters." Harry said strongly, feeling that for once he was arguing for something that he was prepared to fight for.
"Really… I don't think they would be pleased to hear that." Voldemort mused, running a white finger over his mouth and walking slowly around Harry's battered form.
Harry shivered in the cold wind that had begun to whistle around the corner of the courtyard and felt himself shrinking under the scrutinizing glare of the Dark Lord before him. Taking a deep breath he drew himself up and reminded himself why he was there.
"I can't go back to them." He said, half to himself.
Voldemort heard him and stopped pacing, turning to face Harry's determined figure.
"I feel you're underestimating my Order, boy. You can't just sign up because you want to… I have to see your potential. It's me who gets to choose."
Harry swallowed, his strength fading rapidly.
"You don't want me?" He asked, feeling very small.
The Dark Lord reached out a pale hand and Harry forced himself not to flinch. He ran a hand through Harry's thick messy hair, then tilted his chin upwards so that he could meet his gaze once more.
"I didn't say that."
Harry watched the red eyes for any sign of emotion but there was none. What was he supposed to do now? If the Dark Lord refused him then he might as well just throw himself off the tallest tower. He was never going back to his parents now. Never. And it seemed neither side wanted him.
"Would you obey my every order?" Voldemort's voice asked over the sudden blast of wind that whipped both their robes and chilled Harry's bloodied form further.
"I would…" Harry's reply was slow and the pale man noticed this.
"That wasn't very convincing, boy."
Harry frowned. He wouldn't be another lackey – he wanted more.
"I won't be just a Death Eater." He announced boldly, "I want more than that – I want you to teach me. I want your guidance. And in return I would follow your rules. I'm not a fool to be thrown into battle and lost in the crowds. I'm better than that, I know I am. "
"That's quite a statement." The Dark Lord replied after several moments.
"It's the truth." Harry said confidently.
"Do you really want the truth?" Voldemort asked with an unpleasant smile.
Harry bit his tongue in worry. His confidence was slipping out from under his feet once more.
"The truth is that you think you've had a hard life because your family ignore you but let me tell you something – there are many people far more worse off than you. Many people who have had it bad and because of this they are bitter towards those around them. These people think like you, Harry – they think they can become something far more than the ordinary, but the truth is that the majority of them are mediocre at best. Most of these people join my cause and are lost in the crowds. You are no different."
Harry forced back the anguish that he felt at these words. It couldn't be true. His short-lived hopes were falling to the ground fast and he felt his stomach drop at the thought of losing them forever.
"Go home, boy."
Voldemort gave him a pointed look and began to walk away – the darkness and the wind swallowing him up.
"Besides…" Voldemort continued as he walked, "I would rather have your brother at my side…"
Harry physically growled at these words. That wasn't true! His brother would be useless – he was better than Ben could ever hope to be. Why was it always about HIM?
Without thinking about who he was with or what he was doing, Harry let the white-hot anger within him escape in a feeling he had never experienced before. Stretching out his arm in a fluid motion it was as if he threw the anger outwards in a pure-white release.
The jet of white streaked towards the retreating form of the Dark Lord who ducked rapidly in realisation and whirled around with his wand at the ready. The stone column behind him shattered into tiny fragments and scattered around his feet as he eyed Harry's angry figure carefully.
"Well now… this is interesting…" He hissed quietly, not lowering his wand.
"I am better than my brother – why will no-one accept that!" Harry yelled at him, the white-anger still burning fiercely in his chest.
"Because your brother is the Boy-Who-Lived…" Voldemort said, awaiting the reaction.
"He's NOTHING!" Harry screamed, throwing out a barrage of spells at the man before him.
He could feel his hands burning from the raw energy that his body was releasing but drew a bizarre pleasure from the pain and made it his ambition to destroy as much of his surroundings as possible.
Voldemort had apparated to a position behind him and stood watching his actions with growing interest. Not only was Harry a Parseltongue but he could also perform wandless magic. This was drawing a reluctant admiration from the Dark Lord.
Once Harry had exhausted himself he sank to his knees, thankful of the angry wind that cooled his hot face and burnt palms. He drew up a handful of gravel and threw it as hard as he could still manage. It scattered across the broken courtyard feebly and Harry choked back a sob, feeling the hot tears run down his face.
"I'm better than him…" He cried out, before retreating into whispers, as if repeating it would convince everyone of the fact.
"You could be."
Harry blinked and looked up at the tall man standing next to him.
"I want to be." He said quietly, wiping his face – eyes turning darker once more.
"You have a lot to learn, Harry." Voldemort said slowly.
Harry could tell the man was torn between the decision to take him along or leave him behind. He stood up once more. The red eyes glared at him and Harry realised worriedly that he had once again stood up without permission.
But he didn't need permission to stand up!
"I suppose I can take you along on a trial basis… but you must understand that if I change my mind you will be killed. No exceptions."
Harry had already made up his mind. He had no options but this and death would still be better than having to live with his family once more.
"I understand." Harry replied firmly.
"This isn't going to be easy, boy."
"I said I understand." Harry snapped back.
He could feel the anger emanating from the Dark Lord before him; it circled them both as if caught up in the wind that whipped their robes around them in the evening light. His fear from earlier had disappeared and it was replaced by his own reckless anger and impatience with the situation. He didn't care what the Dark Lord thought – he had been through enough pain tonight to have prepared him for the rest of the evening.
The red eyes watched him in a calculating manner that Harry didn't like and he knew things were going to get a lot harder before they got easier.
"Very well." Voldemort said darkly.
He outstretched his pale hand and Harry stared at it. Was he supposed to shake it? His green eyes frowned and looked up at the expression on the Dark Lord's face. It was unreadable.
Harry hesitantly held out his own hand and felt a jolt of energy when Voldemort grabbed it. He looked up at the red eyes which were narrowed in temporary malice.
"Lesson One," Voldemort hissed out, "Obedience."
With a sudden flurry of colours and with what felt like his feet being lifted from the ground underneath him Harry's already tired body was squeezed through space and deposited roughly on the hard cold marble floor of an unrecognised room.
He shook his head and stumbled as he was pulled back to his feet by the Dark Lord's strong grip. His dazed green eyes struggled to take in the new surroundings and found themselves locking once more with the dark and amused gaze of Lord Voldemort.
"If you are to achieve anything whilst you are with me you have to understand that I don't tolerate any rudeness or disobedience," He said with an evil smile, "You must also understand that pain will become an everyday occurrence."
Harry's hand was starting to ache in the tight grip that the Dark Lord had pulled him forwards in. He only then noticed that there were several masked Death Eaters standing in the room with them. And they were large, strong Death Eaters.
"You can't suppress me with violence." Harry said carefully, meeting the Dark Lord's gaze with his own determined green one.
Voldemort smiled thinly and nodded in acceptance of this statement, seeming almost impressed.
"We'll see." He whispered close to Harry' face before pushing him back strongly into the crowd of Death Eaters behind him.
"This boy claims he is better than all of you put together. Perhaps you'd like to show him otherwise." He ordered, keeping eye contact with Harry, "But don't permanently maim him… temporarily is fine."
Harry glared at Voldemort's retreating back before he was grabbed roughly by the hair.
"I remember you," An unfamiliar voice growled, "You're the little brat who tried to break my nose at Hogwarts."
"Uh oh." Harry murmured to himself under his breath as he stared the large man in the eyes through the mask.
"Why don't we show you how to break bones properly." He said with a snarl, showing his teeth in a canine manner.
Harry felt another pain of hands grab his shoulders tightly and closed his eyes, awaiting the worst.
The worst came.
(End Flashback)
Oooooooooo
Harry heard the steady echo of footsteps in the room and forced his eyes to open once more - the action was becoming harder and harder to do.
"Does it hurt?"
Harry's brain took a few minutes to disentangle the question and make sense of it.
"Not anymore." He replied in a pained mumble.
The owner of the footsteps laughed quietly and Harry felt a hand run through his hair. He recognised the action, but it calmed him slightly.
"I can make it worse than this, remember that."
Harry blinked in acknowledgement. He could feel a liquid in his throat that wasn't normally present. The rest of his body was numb… maybe this was what it felt like to die. How could anything ever be worse than death?
"Sleep now Harry, this is just the beginning…"
Harry's body accepted this command. It was as if it had been holding on to consciousness until the order that allowed him to give up had been spoken. His tensed shoulders relaxed and his outstretched arm before him gradually faded into grey. The world tilted sideways and Harry's mind slipped into a painless bliss.
Oooooooooo
He awoke with heavy eyelids to a dimly lit room and a heavy black duvet. The warmth of the material was comforting and Harry wriggled his head deeper into the pillows, enjoying the comfort while he could. His limbs still felt heavy but he could move everything as normal.
With a start he sat upright. His hands rapidly searched for the necklace that hung around his neck. Thankfully his invisibility charm had held and the pendant had not been removed. Its warm glow of magic reassured him and he curled one hand around it protectively.
Feeling his way around his injuries he made out the bandages around his chest and wrists; the latter extending down and over his palms. One of his legs felt strangely stiff and his left shoulder ached slightly but at least he was still alive. For how long though, he didn't want to guess.
Piecing together the last few hours that he could remember, his mind only really wanted to bring up flashes of laughter, pain and blood. He definitely remembered the knife now that he put his mind to it and his hand drifted to the right side of his ribcage where the blade had first entered.
Sifting deeper into his memories he tried to bring back the sensation it had caused… like the initial shock of cutting oneself where the pain followed after the action. But it was a more intense version of that – it was the mental image of the knife entering further into his body that enthralled him and disturbed him to the core. It was the thought of the action that scared him the most.
Shaking his head gently and pulling himself out of the upsetting thoughts, Harry turned his attention to the room around him. The large fireplace was the first thing that caught his attention; the ornamental mantelpiece was large and gilded in a silvery metal. A small but heavy desk stood in one corner and a large carved wardrobe by the door. A tall wall length mirror stood next to this and drew a smile to Harry's face. Did they think him that vain?
The room was a modest size – not very large on a mansion scale but still much larger than his previous room at home or at Hogwarts. Still, his room at home had almost been a cupboard and at Hogwarts he'd had to share with others. This was great.
"You're awake."
The sudden voice startled Harry and his gaze snapped to the owner who had just entered the room with a tray of small jars.
"Snape?" Harry asked in surprise, his voice hoarse.
"Unfortunately, yes. My spare time is once more being used to babysit for a Potter."
The man's voice was sharp but he seemed tired.
"Am I at Hogwarts?" Harry asked in horror, his heart sinking once more.
Snape snorted and set the tray of potions down by his bedside.
"Don't be stupid. Dumbledore wouldn't have me personally waiting hand and foot on you, would he? You'd be left to mend in the infirmary like everyone else."
Harry let out a sigh of relief and studied the potions next to him. He spotted a couple that he didn't recognise. Snape must have noticed his expression.
"They're very advanced potions – not even studied at Hogwarts highest level. Took me a few days to make." He informed him as he uncorked one and measured it into a glass.
"And you made them for me?" Harry asked in wonder.
He didn't think anyone had ever made this sort of effort for him before.
"As if I had a choice in the matter." Snape muttered, raising an eyebrow sceptically.
"Wait a minute. A couple of days? How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked suddenly.
"You've been unconscious for three days. Drink these."
"Three days!" Harry exclaimed.
Snape's glare silenced him and he took the bottles, drinking them obediently.
"You do realise that you almost died, Potter. I don't know what you did but the Dark Lord was not best pleased. You're lucky he was in a forgiving mood afterwards. I myself would have rather left you to perish than go through all the effort it's taken to get you back on your feet."
Harry blinked in astonishment. Had his injuries really been that bad? Well, he supposed he had been bleeding everywhere and unable to move so it was highly likely that he had been near death.
"Drink this."
Another bottle was pushed into his hands. Snape's mood seemed to worsen as the minutes passed so Harry accepted each potion as it came and tried to question the man as little as possible.
"So what do I do now?" He asked quietly.
Snape was the one who had suggested running off in the first place so Harry's mind seemed to have put him in a position of guidance. Perhaps this was a bad idea.
"As soon as you have finished these I suggest you get dressed and head to the Dark Lord's meeting chambers."
"By myself?"
Snape looked at him dryly.
"Yes, Potter. All by yourself I'm afraid. Do you think you can manage that?"
Harry scowled at him. He couldn't help but feel nervous – what if those Death Eaters found him again? He couldn't afford to lose another three days.
"What am I supposed to wear?"
His robes had been in no fit state to be worn ever again, never mind to a situation where he ought to be dressed properly.
"Might I suggest you search the wardrobe." Snape growled as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, re-corking the last of the bottles and setting them back on the tray with more force than necessary.
"Oh." Harry mouthed.
He'd never really used a wardrobe before so it wasn't his fault it hadn't been the first thing to come to mind.
Snape stood upright once more and moved swiftly to the door, muttering darkly under his breath the whole time. Harry assumed it was about 'Potters' and 'time wasting'.
"Professor?"
"What?" Snape snapped angrily, whirling around in the doorway.
"Thank you for the potions." Harry said quietly and sincerely.
Snape said nothing, merely held his glare in place before whirling back around and exiting the room with the slam of the heavy door.
Shrugging to himself, Harry swung his legs out of bed, the mixture of potions making him feel more energetic already. The robes inside the wardrobe were well made and had a heavy feel to them. There were only four robes present but that was more than enough for Harry, who was used to his brothers hand-me-downs.
Slipping into a fetching dark green shirt and black robe he wandered over to the mirror to survey his outfit. Staring at himself for longer than was necessary he suddenly realised how small he felt. His reflection was all messy hair and big green eyes and he scowled at it.
His classmates had always tended to be larger than him, but he had never let it bother him before – he had just accepted it with the rest of the taunts. Now, however, he wanted to make an impression on people and that was never going to happen if he remained the size he was.
He would grow, he was sure, but he never remembered his brother being this small when he was this age.
"It's not fair." He muttered to himself, digging his hands in his pockets.
It was in this dark mood that he found his way to the Dark Lord's meeting chambers. He had no idea where he was going but only had to turn back once before he found his way there safely. He took in little of the surroundings as he walked – the halls were dark and panelled in a dark mahogany wood but that was all he acknowledged.
Standing before the large wooden doors Harry hesitated. Did he knock? Maybe it would be more time-efficient to walk straight in. But then he would probably be cursed into oblivion. Oh well, what could it hurt?
Pushing open one of the heavy doors, he strode inside, new shoes snapping down sharply on the marble floor as he walked. This room was better lit and the fine art and decorations were displayed prominently on the walls. A large long table filled one side of the room whilst the other side was lined with rows of bookcases.
"You still haven't learned your lesson, I see."
Harry followed the sound of the voice to where Voldemort sat in a grand dark red chair by the fire. He watched Harry move across the large room and swirled the liquid in his glass with a thoughtful expression.
Harry stopped short at the chair, swept his cloak behind him and bowed slowly, keeping eye contact. He pulled himself back upright swiftly and stood intently under the watchful gaze of the Dark Lord.
"It's a start I suppose."
The man stood up and immediately Harry found his self-confidence shirking. Damn his height… maybe he needed to invest in bigger shoes.
"I must say you look decidedly better than you did the last time I saw you," Voldemort informed him, circling him where he stood, "Still need quite a bit of work though…"
Harry scowled but bit his tongue.
"I've decided you need several personal trainers if this foolish scheme is ever going to benefit me," Voldemort continued, striding to a cabinet and pouring himself more wine, "You're normal school-based tutorage can be done via my contacts within each of the main wizarding schools of Europe – Severus you already know…"
Harry winced slightly. Snape wasn't going to appreciate him taking up more of the man's personal time.
"Your physical training will be done with one of my finest assassins whom I believe you have also met before. Also, I haven't finalised it yet, but I have someone in mind to oversee your wandless magic. That will come at a later stage."
Harry tried to take this all in without seeming too overwhelmed. He had prepared himself to work hard however, and that was what he would do. He tried not to look too keen about the wandless magic but somehow felt uneasy about how Voldemort had introduced his assassin… Harry had never met any assassins that he knew of…
"Your etiquette and common sense will be dealt with as we go along." Voldemort said, finishing his glass and setting it down carefully on the wooden table. He met Harry's inquisitive eyes, "And only when I feel you are ready – if you are ever ready, I will teach you the more advanced Dark Arts."
A small smile broke across Harry's pale face and Voldemort acknowledged it with a smirk of his own.
"But you have to get that far first, boy, and it won't be easy."
Harry heard the large doors open and heavy but smooth footsteps rang out across the room once more. Voldemort's smile only increased when he saw the visitor.
"Ah, here is your physical trainer right now. Harry, I would like you to meet Vladimir."
Harry felt his jaw physically drop in surprise and horror as he recognised the man standing before him. Or rather, when he noticed the thin scar that ran across his face. Vladimir smiled very predatory in a manner that held no mirth at all.
"We've met before…" The vampire said quietly, moving to stand opposite Harry.
If Harry had felt dwarfed by Voldemort, he now felt like a small child standing next to the broad shouldered vampire. He took in the man's fine blue velvet coat and dark silk shirt. He also wore a cravat that Harry liked very much…maybe he should see if he could get one of those…
The vampire seemed to have come from another age, and he very probably did. If Harry hadn't been more afraid he was about to have his throat ripped out then he would have spent longer studying the beast's fine clothes.
"I'll leave you two to your first proper lesson then…" Voldemort said with a smile to Harry.
He knew exactly what he was leaving Harry with and he seemed overjoyed by the situation. Harry glared at him as he left the room and Voldemort only watched his reaction in amusement.
"I do want him in one piece now, Vladimir, remember that."
With that the door slammed and Harry was left alone in the large room with the large vampire who looked very pissed off.
For five minutes or so they stood in silence – Harry watching the vampire uneasily and the vampire seeming to judge whether to rip Harry's head of straight away or just start with his legs.
The punch came out of nowhere and Harry was suddenly on the floor, his cheekbone numb. Acting on instinct and, unfortunately experience Harry managed to roll out of the way of the heavy booted kick that came his way. Jumping to his feet and ready to dodge anything further, it came as a surprise when he was grabbed by the collar at a far closer range than he expected, and thrown downwards against the large table, knocking the wind out of him quite violently.
"You hurt me." The Russian accent growled.
"You were going to rip out my throat!" Harry yelled, struggling against the strong grip that held him down.
"Not this time," Came the voice once more, ignoring Harry's reply – the sharp teeth far closer to his face that he would have liked, "This time I hurt you."
Harry managed to get one foot between himself and the vampire and he kicked out as hard as he could against the vampire's chest. It did little but enrage the vampire further, and Vladimir picked Harry up as if he weighed nothing and threw him across the room where he hit the ground at an unfortunate angle, bruising his already damaged ribcage.
Harry winced and picked himself up as fast as he could but Vladimir was already advancing. The large man had rolled up his sleeves to expose his strong arms and was positioning himself in some sort of fighting stance.
Harry didn't have a clue what to do. He was used to dodging punches that his brother threw but doubted that the vampire's technique would be the same. He hesitated for several more moments before throwing a glance at the vampire's face and dashing into the rows of bookcases.
He delved as far as he dared into the rows before coming to a stop behind a random set of shelves and catching his breath.
"We've been through this before, boy."
Harry cursed mentally. This was pointless – he was supposed to be learning from the vampire but instead the man wanted to beat the living daylights out of him.
"The sooner I get this over with, the sooner we can get on with your lessons…" The vampire's voice continued.
Yeah right… Harry thought with a scowl.
"The longer you hide, the more it's going to hurt when I find you."
Harry remained quiet and crouched down into a sitting position.
"If you find me." He muttered.
Harry sat there for what seemed like ages, studying his fingernails and brushing the dust off his new robes. Vladimir had been silent for quite a while.
Suddenly two large booted feet appeared within Harry's zone of vision… right in front of his zone of vision. He looked up, green eyes almost fixed in a wince. Vladimir's ice blue eyes were expressionless but his feelings were pretty clear when he hauled Harry to his feet by the hair and dragged him back out into the open area of the hall.
"I don't play games." The Russian growled dangerously, throwing Harry to the ground before him once more.
"Then teach me." Harry snapped.
His reply was a heavy kick in the chest.
Once he had stopped coughing the vampire spoke once more.
"I will only teach you when I believe you are worthy of being taught. At the moment you are acting like a coward."
"Well that's only because I'm scared of you!" Harry growled back – his own growl not having quite the same impact as the vampire's.
Vladimir chuckled slightly.
"You have no reason to be afraid of me yet," He said, stepping down suddenly, grabbing Harry by the scruff of his neck and dropping his voice to almost a whisper, "But by the end of today you will have very good reason."
Harry tried to meet the blue gaze evenly but failed to do so. The animalistic similarities were back and Harry began to doubt if even the Dark Lord's orders were enough to keep this vampire in check.
"I'll fight back," Harry told the man, sounding stronger than he felt with his feet almost off the ground, "I'll give you another scar."
The vampire only smiled, his elongated canines glinting in the light. He dropped Harry to the ground and stepped away, unbuttoning his cufflinks.
"You can try, boy." He said quietly, "You can try."
Oooooooooooo
And try Harry did, but it made little difference by the end of the evening. It seemed that the more the vampire managed to make him bleed, the further this fuelled the dark creature. Harry could understand why, but where the vampire was getting faster, he was getting weaker and was desperately in need of something to drink.
His muscles ached and he had no idea how long the vampire had been battering the hell out of him. He felt bruised and bloodied and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Wiggling his fingers painfully he decided that he had definitely broken something in the wrist area too.
He was also rather worried that he had smashed up the Dark Lord's room a little too much. There was a nice indent in the large table where Harry's body had met it at force, the attractive decanter where Voldemort had taken his wine from earlier was smashed on the floor (in an act of defence though) and several books lay scattered across the shiny marble floor.
"Are we done yet?" Harry asked in a croak, shielding his more painful arm as he got up from the floor once more.
"No." Came the deep expressionless voice of the vampire.
Trying to dodge another attack Harry fell back on to the hard marble once more and only noticed the predatory leap of his attacker when it was too late to move.
Vladimir landed on him smoothly and pinned him down with little difficulty. Harry gave a growl of frustration and struggled against the tight hold that the large man had on him.
"You are slowing down." He informed Harry from above.
"I'm tired. I need a drink." Harry complained, struggling again.
Without warning the vampire rolled him on to his front and dug an elbow deep into his back. Harry yelped and found himself unable to change position without causing himself further pain.
"I need a drink too…" Vladimir muttered thoughtfully.
Harry's eyes widened in realisation and the second the vampire loosened his grip Harry made a scrambled attempt at escape. The strong arms pulled him back easily, however, and held him fixedly in place. A hand crept into his hair and pulled his head to one side, exposing his neck and panicking Harry to the extreme.
It seemed the vampire was out-with Voldemort's control after all. Or maybe, he thought irrationally, Voldemort had planned this all along. Maybe Snape was pissed off earlier because he knew Harry was going to die anyway!
"You know, I don't think the Dark Lord would even want to train you, boy – you are too weak."
"I'm not." Harry protested, his voice sounding small even to his own ears as he struggled against the vice-like grip of the creature behind him.
"You have no idea how tempting it is to rid him of your annoying presence…"
Harry could tell the vampire was eyeing his neck hungrily and closed his eyes in a silent prayer that this was just a scare tactic. He could feel the dark creature running his teeth down his neck slowly before stopping and tasting the skin once more.
Harry let out a yelp of fear as he struggled once more but the vampire only chuckled deeply.
"I've had a taste of your blood before boy. It's only a matter of time before I need more."
"That's not going to happen." Harry snarled, trying to prolong the conversation. He was running out of ideas of how to escape.
"Are you going to stop me?" Vladimir whispered in his ear.
Harry smirked and made up his mind in a split second. He threw his head back as hard as he could – similar to how he had treated the Death Eater in the Great Hall. The second the blow fell, Vladimir let out an angry roar and loosened his grip for long enough to allow Harry to make a bid for freedom.
Turning to observe the vampire only when he had reached the safety of the other side of the large oak table Harry smirked in satisfaction at the blood running freely from the large man's nose. Now he wasn't the only one with a bloodied face.
The fury visible in Vladimir's expression was extreme and Harry realised he had suddenly run out of ideas. The grin slid off his face. Where was he supposed to go now? As the vampire stood up Harry racked his brain as fast as he could.
"That was a very, very bad idea…" Vladimir growled dangerously, pulling out a hanker-chief and dabbing as much blood off his face as he could, "You are really starting to irk me, boy."
The eyes that met Harry's were dark and clouded in a primal sort of anger that Harry had rarely experienced. The man's actions were controlled however, and as he advanced towards the table, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the dark presence that the creature carried with him as he moved.
Thankful that the large unmovable table separated them and that there was no possible way Vladimir could physically move it, Harry's heart sank as he watched Vladimir hold out his large hand with intent. It began to emit a purple glow and Harry realised he'd completely forgotten about the magic that the man had performed during their last encounter – how… inconvenient.
With a sweeping gesture the vampire threw the massive table up into the air and deposited it with a splintering crash against the far wall. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the noise had resounded throughout the whole building. Hopefully the Dark Lord will have heard?
After his initial panic about being extremely exposed Harry realised that if the Dark Lord hadn't been upset about the damage before, he certainly would be now. On second thoughts, he hoped that anyone other than the Dark Lord had heard the crash.
Grabbing a nearby chair Harry hauled it off the floor and threw it with all his remaining might at the vampire, but Vladimir caught the clumsy throw skilfully, turned the chair in his hand for a better grip and smashed it powerfully down on Harry before he had a chance to retaliate.
It felt like the entire roof of the building had just collapsed on Harry's head and his ears rung after the impact. When his vision returned to him he was lying amidst the remaining splinters of the chair flat out on the cold marble floor.
His head was definitely bleeding – he could feel the warm liquid running down the side of his face and he became aware of the danger this posed. Vladimir would definitely be after his blood now. Using all his energy he only just managed to pull himself to his knees but the floor still swam.
He could make out the dragging noise of another chair being lifted from the ground and in the second it took for him to work out what it was, the heavy wood had already smashed into his chest, throwing him into a slide across the floor.
Breathless and stunned Harry was pulled upwards and stumbled forwards into the solid chest of his attacker, not really realising what it was. He pushed himself back with difficulty and it was only the hand that held his robes roughly, that prevented him from crashing to his knees.
With an uncomfortable jolt of clarity Harry froze in horror at the familiar position that he found himself in once more – the strong arm around his neck holding him in place.
"Don't struggle." Came the amused voice in his ear, "I'm not letting go this time."
"Vladimir." The strong voice rang out across the room sharply.
Harry opened the eyes he didn't even realise he had closed. Voldemort strode across the room towards them powerfully. He paused and observed what remained of his chambers before turning his attention on the stranglehold that the vampire held Harry in – that and the sharp teeth glinting perilously close to the younger man's throat.
"That's enough for today I believe." He said with a look to Vladimir that passed over Harry's head.
What? Where was the reprimand! Why was Voldemort not more upset that the vampire had been about to rip out his throat?! Harry opened his mouth to voice his opinions but the hold around his neck was too tight.
"Look what he did to me, how many times have you seen me bleed?" Vladimir argued, his Russian accent thickening.
Harry frowned as their conversation passed into rapid Russian. He had no idea what was going on but this position was painful and his body ached. He needed his bruise potions and only then remembered that they were all back at the castle. He would have to start all over again…
"Excuse me?" He asked loudly, his voice painful to use and not caring if he interrupted their conversation.
Two sets of scowling eyes turned to him impatiently.
"Are we done for the night? I would rather like to return to my room." He asked with a cough as the vampire released him.
The two of them shared a look that was clearly not intended for Harry's eyes – Harry rubbed his shoulder carefully, not really understanding what was happening. He didn't care anymore – he wanted to return to that warm bed and switch off from everything once more.
"Yes, go," Voldemort ordered all of a sudden, "I want you back here tomorrow morning at six. Wear the blue robes."
Harry frowned and nodded, giving the disgruntled vampire a last look before slipping through the large doors in silence.
Feeling his way along the darkened corridor he found his gaze flickering rapidly from shadow to shadow as statues and portraits loomed ominously out at his over-anxious and dazed mind. More than once he had to stop and lean back against the solid walls to regain his sense of balance.
Finally reaching his room he clicked the door shut firmly behind him and staggered over to the miniature en-suite bathroom. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to survive his lessons with Vladimir. He just didn't understand why Voldemort hadn't been more annoyed at the vampire for trying to kill him.
Or maybe Vladimir hadn't been trying to kill him – maybe the man had been trying to scare him. Harry scowled at his lack of insight on the matter and resolved to find out more about the creature as soon as he could.
Washing himself down clumsily he watched the bloodied water run over the pristine white ceramic of the sink, lost in thought. He walked heavily back into the room and pulled off his clothes, crawled achingly into bed and closed his eyes.
Perhaps next time he saw Snape he could ask for a few herbs and ingredients. He just hoped he survived long enough to see the man again – at this rate he wasn't going to last a week of training.
Ooooooooooooo
I think that turned out a bit longer than I intended.
Thanks for hanging in there, the updates are slowing down I know, but they're still coming:0 I plan on speeding up the next few so that time passes a bit faster – I'm thinking it would be a bit boring going through every single day of Harry's training.
Again, thanks for the updates – encouraging as always! Will be back soon! x