Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter world nor its characters. That belongs to JK Rowling. Neither do I own the song written here. It is Driven Under, performed by Seether.
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Do you think I'm faking
The night air swept against the new earth, whispering its thoughts to those who would listen. It's all present eyes watching the people in the world it caressed gently or beat harshly. His low voice sung nature's children to sleep, edging the fading flames of life down to simmers as it stirred up the water. It's frosty hue swung across the skies, coming to Britain, and into London. From London the wind swirled through one culture to the next, able to break through the wall only people's conscience had put up. It traveled across the lands to a beautiful, torchlight castle called Hogwarts stood. A single figure was up this night, listening to the song of the air.
When I'm lying next to you?
Blair Kryeen was sitting on top of her large windowsill. One slender leg dangled down into the night, one supporting her perch on the warming stone. Her poise was delicate, hands supporting her head so that it a bare push could make her fall into the dark depths of the lake far below. But yet, it looked like no one could ever make her fall, the woman with hair from platinum blond to crimson red, skin lightly tanned from the sun, exotic features of full lips, wide hooded eyes of dancing gold, straight nose, strong cheekbones and a defined chin. She was power incarnate. Wild, beautiful, raw.
"There is some good in you left."
The professor gave a high growl, clenching her fist as the words ran through her head again. The breeze picked up against her, whispering his soft voice along her bare shoulders and angered face, calling her forth.
Do you think that I am blind
"It's just because of the boy." Blair told the wind as the stars gazed back at her. "I never told Daemon why I won't kill him, so now he thinks I've gone soft."
Nothing left for me to loose?
As if the air replied back, Kryeen blinked her bright eyes. "The man though... why did I save him? He is only mortal, he'll die anyway... So why did I do it?"
Must be something on your mind
The wind however, gave no reply. Shifting her poise, the woman began to feel restless. A striving energy began to build up in her blood, and the hunger again reached her from the whisperings of the frost-bitten air.
Something lost and left behind
Blair stood, taking a casual glance around as she felt the familiar stoic washing over her in the form of superiority. With a last gaze down to the moonlit lake, a dangerous smile dropped onto her face, lighting it up with the hunter's gaze again. And with that, she jumped.
Do you know I'm faking now?
§
"Your Blair's brother?" Harry Potter exclaimed.
The locked and enchanted room(despite three unauthorized entries) was suddenly taut with confusion, wariness, and awe.
Daemon, for once, seemed wordless. His northern blue eyes stared straight at where the young woman had walked past, the shut white of the stone door. When he finally did speak, the musical, soothing voice had undisguised sorrow weighting it.
"She has not called me that for a long time."
Before anyone could reply, Dumbledore spoke. "I feel I must intrude, if you will forgive me Daemon. Bit I since a long and bitter tale arising from this room, and for the sake of all of us, I suggest we sit and listen over tea."
No one objected, so the headmaster waved his wand and a number of soft, comfortable chairs appeared in which every body took a seat. Next, the old wizard zoomed the tables over to the center of the newly formed oval, filling each with a pot of tea, a plate of biscuits, and four cups with plates. The transparent teen of course, remained still in the middle, waiting for Dumbledore's nod to continue.
How could brother and sister be so different? Harry thought between his biscuit. She was offensive, rude, and violent toward others. He was polite, calm, and understanding regarding people.
"First, it should be said what I am."
All eyes fixed on his form. He was a colored, detailed human. But if you looked a little harder, you could see everything through him.
Daemon's voice was as captivating as his eyes. "I was a human boy, in fact this body if fairly new to me, as I have only been in it for ten years. I was born... what you would call a muggle, and knew very little of the wizarding world. It was my brother that was the wizard."
"Brother..." Ron muttered under his breath.
Still, the phoenix hearing him caught it. "Yes, my older brother Blayne. He was a wizard, and also my caretaker. From what I know, our family was attacked when I was five by a man. My parents were killed, and I was taken to his mansion, where he preformed torture on me." The soft voice never wavered, but the reflections of the winter sky in his eyes changed, sorrow-filled them as the phoenix spirit told his tale.
"After only a month, my captor had pushed me too far and my body was destroyed. He threw my out, where my teenage brother found and took me in. From what I have seen of your kind, Blayne must have been powerful. For he never attended a school only being taught by the wicca woman in our town, and then only in secret. He had made his own wand, and with his magic managed to preserve my five year old spirit into a new body..."
"The phoenix," Someone intoned.
Daemon shook his head. "No, my body was that of a wolf cub."
Remus Lupin's frame went slightly rigid under Nymphadora's hand. Neither spoke however.
"I am afraid I cannot tell you how my magic works, because I don't know much about it myself. However, I was a wolf then, and for two years Blayne and I continued to live in the outskirts of our former village. We kept to the forest, as I now had an animal form and he, for some reason I cannot name, seemed to be attuned to the forest almost to the point of communication. It was not a bad life. There was soon a wolf pack that joined our existence, fueling my animal instincts to hunt and survive. In exchange, my brother provided food for them in the case of a bad hunt, and protection from other men. This was our life and we were content... then rumor of my captor came wind again."
At this point he paused, giving his listeners as much a break to think over his words as himself time to compose again the eloquence of his speech. After a minute less or more, Daemon continued.
"Blayne...he was calm, understanding and protective most of the time. But also bitter and vengeful over what the man did to me. When one of the wolves brought news that the enemy had been spotted again, and this time with another prisoner... Blayne went after him. It was almost a month before I saw my brother again. And when he returned, it was with a strange girl. She was sickly pale and the dark of her hair did not help. Her body was starved thin, and yet build with power. It was clear she was not completely human, from the way she reacted to sights and smells humans could not grasp to the almost primitive, dark lingering in her brown eyes that spelled out a predator. I wanted her gone, and feared her, but Blayne was insistent. He told me that she had been tortured by the same man, but somehow she had lived past what he had done to her. One night my brother had found a way in and rescued her, and in abandoning the girl would cause her death. At first, she was more of an animal than I was, lashing out with fangs and nails at everyone, even her rescuer. And yet he was a healer, and slowly through many scars, she began to trust us. After almost a year, she seemed human enough. Blayne used magic to help suppress some of her own powers. She was a hybrid of many things, he would not tell me all, just that her torturer had done this to her. I know of the werewolf, because once a month, she ran with us. The wolves taught her a love of nature, fed the wild side of her while Blayne taught her a love of people, fed the human side of her. After much time and struggle had passed, the girl was able to control most of her powers as well as talk. We became a family of sorts, the wolves and me, my brother and the girl. She had no memory of her life before capture, and so we gave her a name. We called her Ally, meaning noble. For she seemed like a noble queen to us, once fed, cleaned, exposed to light, Ally was quite beautiful and her kindness weighed with her power. Ally was stubborn, protective, giving, free, understanding, and happy as long as her powers were under control. Only a threat to her new family would face her, but that strongly. So we lived together for a few more years, and the two teenagers began to fall in love..."
Daemon know was forced to take a break, as Hermione had been listening so intently that she dropped the tea cup and shattered it. Turning red, she gave a muffled apology.
"Miss Granger please do keep a steady hand on cups or do not drink." Snape's cold voice cut through the sudden noise.
"Severus, please." Dumbledore said to retain the peace as he cleaned up the shards and repaired the cup, which Hermione politely declined.
The feather-haired boy glanced over, casting Celia a smile before continuing on when everyone was seated again.
"It was not the materialistic love of most teenagers I have encountered, but rather true, honest love deeper than most will ever know. It was perhaps... too deep, and thus why one drop caused so many ripples." This time Daemon actually had to pause, his defined, sharply beautiful face glassing over for a small breath until he continued, his volume softer.
"But our happy existence was shattered when... he appeared again.
§
He wiped the blood from his mouth, licking the life-giving liquid off his fingers with a horrible, predatory smile. The colorless hair shafted white under the pale moonlight, white as the elongated canines that protruded from his blood-stained lips. The creature's ivory skin was flawless across his aristocratic Italian features illuminated by the heavens. His sharp nose, defined eyes a bright, burning scarlet, strong, sharp cheek and jaw bones, smooth, curving lips. The white blond hair fell in still angles around his face. The locks angled down to the base of his neck, and up for the head so that few longer streaks settled into the eyes. This was a creature of beauty, dressed from head to toe in black. But it was a hunter—the fangs and primal thirst for chaos in those eyes rung of it. It was a vampire, creature of night. In fact, it was the immortal ruler of the nightshade.
This was Draeg Darkling.
The king of vampires was disturbed from his early meal by the sudden aura of magic, strong enough to be another immortal, a Death Dealer, even. Latching onto the waves of power, he soon recognized the individual it belonged to. Draeg curled his lower lip and gave a hiss as he sensed the burning waves, unchecked force.
"Dear Blair—treasured Aduru Epopsis," He spoke to the darkness, glowering in his low monotone. "I am coming for you... And this time, we shall see who leaves with a scar."
§
She allowed the wind to breeze by her, leading her for a time under night's wing. Finally, her golden eyes opened and the heavily booted feet touched the earth with a soft thud. The said person measured her surroundings, taking in the aura of fear and destruction.
Yes, this is definably a Death Eater meeting. The DADA professor had gotten used to the familiar tang of fear these mortals felt around their master, as well as the blood lust in their corrupted souls. She smelled sweat and death in the air, saw mortals behind the mask. They were easy to track—a signature aura. His most of all. Kryeen turned, fixing her heated, rich stare on their lord.
"Hello again Blair." Voldemort greeted her with a lipless, almost smile through his slithering, cold voice.
The dark, red eyes of the feared wizard gazed over her sudden appearance without fear or hesitation.
"I was getting bored with that old man at the castle." The woman replied easily giving an explanation without ever being questioned.
"And how is it you find us again?" The Dark Lord asked, however his voice was coldly amused rather than angry. Like a snake toying with a rat.
Kryeen however, was no rat. "Your aura sticks out like pink at a funeral."
Several other Death Eaters were murmuring lightly. The comings and goings of the strange woman had become frequent enough to not shock them, but her dangerous, unpredictable nature left no room for comfort.
"Ah, my dear lady." One voice managed to speak up, a cold, cultured voice with flat politeness as the hooded figure bent down to kiss her hand.
In the changing of the winds, Blair had moved out of the man's pale reach and a spell had sent him flying into the air, falling down hard a few feet away.
"Don't touch me Lucius." The rogue snapped with disdain,
Her face lit up, however, upon seeing a figure that had before been cowering behind a particularly angry Bellatrix.
"Wormtail, I was hoping to find you. I had a nuisance of a day and wanted a little enjoyment tonight." A cruel smile flickered upon her bold face.
The short, balding man gave a low whimper and gripped his silver hand as he managed to stutter.
"M...my.. Lo...Lord...t-them wo-woman... won't y-you..."
Voldemort cast him a look of cruel satisfaction and replied. "Despite what you may think Wormtail, Blair's worth is much higher than your own."
With a wink that would have been flirtatious on any other woman, the hot-blooded being snapped her fingers. At once, the man once called Peter Pettigrew began screaming in agony, his body twitching as his torturer watched on the horrific spectacle with near glee.
After a few moment, the silky voice of his lord reached between his own screams and her faint laughs.
"While Wormtail is a weakling, he does have his uses. I don't want him dead Blair."
In response, Kryeen gave a last, powerful clench of her hands before breaking the spell, leaving the broken Judas sobbing and moaning pitilessly on the ground. She almost retorted, and in the beginning would have, but now the rogue had no reason to fight with Voldemort. It was an unspoken agreement between them that had appeared from simple time—respect. Voldemort did not, and would never attempt to command or control the free spirit. She would linger in his company, occasionally assisting if it suited her desire.
"You pick pathetic servants." She stated bluntly, giving the groveling wizard a strong kick.
The powerful wizard's eyes flashed, but he had found it incessantly harder to truly get angry at Blair anymore. His face of course, was a mask of power and cruelty, but his inner thoughts were changing in the shadows.
"I found a book, Blair. There is some information I would like from it, you might enjoy it as well."
But before she could reply, the very night shifted subtly, and the teacher picked up a familiar, powerful being.
"Draeg," She whispered hotly, drawing a knouter from underneath her robes.
"Where the hell did that come from?" One of the death eaters yelled as she brandished the many coils of her weapon.
"This... this is my favorite weapon—it is with me always." Blair gave a bare, hard smile just as a voice pelted down from every angle.
"We meet again, Aduru..."
§
As vengeful as my brother was, Ally was ten times worse. She hated her torturer with a raw, all-consuming fury. Only Blayne could reach her when she reached that wrath, and slowly calm her. But one night, she crept out to kill the man who had become our sole enemy—alone to protect us. But in his cunning, our captor had crept back into our small house. He woke Blayne and they started to fight. He ordered me to run after Ally, and I obliged, leaving my brother and the wolves to fight this demon of a man. I reached Ally and together we ran back. But when we returned, the hour was late. Our hose was smoldering in ashes, caught by the all-consuming flames that licked up the trees. She raced into the flames and what passed there I shall never know. I was with the surviving pack, helping to douse the deadly fire with our own fur and using my human intelligence, water. When the fire had cleared, I was able to go back to the house. That was when my body stopped working. It began to flicker in its solid form, and I felt my soul slipping. I cried out to my sister and brother. And slowly, a hand reached me. It was cold, colder than anything I have felt before as it touched my skin, barely giving me the magic to hold the fading wolf body a little longer. My savior was Ally—her pale flesh cradling the burnt corpse of her love, my brother—Blayne."
Harry felt his pain and loss weigh heavily upon the creature's shoulders. Sirius...
"I have never heard a cry as I heard come from her lips that night. It was the mourning howl of the wolf, the starved screech of the vampire, the endless curse of the banshee, the agony of a human heart ripped out from chest and left bleeding immortality on the ground. For three days and nights, she stayed by his body—weeping and whispering every spell and every power she knew to try and bring Blayne back. The fourt day she quieted, and by the fifth she was in a deranged craze. Ally cursed the power that was too weak to save her love, cursed herself for leaving that night, cursed her enemy for taking him. And then, some kind of hopelessness fell over her on the sixth day. Ally lost all hope for life, and drove splintering wood through her own neck."
Hermione could be seen wincing and rubbing her own neck.
"...But the horror of what was done had not yet been fully realized. You see, Ally did not die. Her torture had taken the human soul and twisted it, to the point where she could not die. The girl had lost her love, and now could not follow him. And on the seventh day, my time was almost up—I who had been trapped in a dying body, unable to move. Ally no longer moved either, she simply lay next to the stinking, rotting corpse of Blayne. I do not know what events took place, but before the sun went down that day, my body was renewed into a new form, the one who see before you. And Ally... she had changed as well. Her hair was now the twisted colors of the fire that had burnt out her heat, her dark eyes now brightened to gold and skin given a tint. I only recognized her through the necklace she wore—the beaded one with a phoenix feather, the one my brother had given her. Yet, even though she lived, Ally died with Blayne. In her place, was a woman called... Blair."
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A/N: Whoohoo—This is a fast update for me! I really wanted to get this chapter out though, the trio can't be kept clueless forever;-P Oh, and for rock fans—that song is amazing, and matched her current mood and the plot down to a T. Another note, I am using some words that aren't common knowledge, so if you get confused just leave a question in your review. For example, I'm almost sure the majority of people don't know what Blair's weapon is... Okay, now then—what does everyone think of Blair & Daemon's past? Was it OMG or WTF? Just drop me a line!