§
Draeg Darkling eyed the sun with such contempt it should fall from the sky for fear. The vampire could walk under its rays, being a Death Dealer gave him that ability. But by now the toxin in his shuriken would have been burnt away by her immortal immunity. Besides that in daylight she had the advantage. The dark immortal had attacked her while his element was strong—night, and she had managed to overcome him. Even if the Aduru Eposis had lost control, she could still have killed him.
The pale-faced creature uttered a curse under his breath. He had given to much of this life to have it taken away.
"Little Aduru I will see you again." Draeg hissed between his strangely long teeth.
Only the wind kept his company, stirring as before the coming of a storm.
§
Ron and Hermione had classes one slot more than him the winter semester. While the bushy-haired girl was in Arithmancy, the hazel-eyed boy was taking muggle studies, more or less to make his father happy after Percy. So Harry found himself, in the first day winter, talking to Ginny Weasley.
She had found him doing work alone in the common room and since they were both free, suggested Quidditch practice. So two broomsticks and a clear pitch later, they were flying with Snitch in tow. The Weasley daughter had become a chaser after Harry had resumed his position, but that didn't mean she wasn't still a good Seeker. They played a game—release the tiny, winged ball and fly up to the top with their eyes closed so that neither knew where the other was. Then, on the count of five they both soared around for it. Playful bumps, lunges, and faints added to the abstract of the game.
"1...2...3..." Ginny began counting again, her pale face flushed slightly, flaming hair slightly twisted together by the wind.
For a moment, Harry was more focused on the figure in front of him then catching the Snitch. Repressed thoughts had begun to surface. Her smile, her laugh... and she had to be such a damn good player to... He had long ago pushed all romantic ideas from his mind—he had vowed to stop Voldemort, and had two scars now to prove it. But he couldn't bury a single notion that kept appearing as he watched her beautiful face.
Ginny Weasley looks... sexy.
In fact, the-boy-who-lived was so busy mentally berating himself for thinking that about his best mate's sister that his competitor had already captured the Snitch.
The fifth-year laughed with a wink. "That makes 2 to 5, in your favor... Harry are you listening?"
Shaking himself the elder gave what he hoped was a relaxed smile. "Sorry, daydreaming have another go?"
"Couldn't stop me!" The female red-head grinned and gave her tortured friend a playful punch in the shoulder
And so the game commenced, each one diving, rolling,catching, flying. It was the best time Harry had all week. It drove all thoughts and notion of responsibility—of his deal with Blair, his lessons with Lupin, of even Voldemort. Right there was only the familiar emerald of the swaying grass below them, fading with patches of brown from the season's change, the clear white-blue sky that reflected cold coming and a sunless day, but no immediate repercussion, and the charming teen beside him. And that was the danger in Ginny, he realized suddenly on that day after releasing the Snitch again.
When I am with her I forget about everything I have to do... She's like a dream from a life I could have had without Voldemort...
But as he lunged, grasping the golden orb in his hands once again a sobering understanding came to him. Green eyes had fallen on the tracing mark on his arm, the vow he had took, what he was.
But dreams, they can never be real.
The Chosen One would have been quite depressed the rest of the time if Ron's sister was not so good at putting smiles on people's faces, and keeping them there. As they played she went into renditions—pretending to be Snape in a quite amusing way. Her current performance went along like such:
"Potter, what are you doing?"
Between laughs that almost made him fall from the broom, the seeker would manage to reply in these little charades.
"Your potion, professor."
"No... you gave me a funny look—what did you mean by that look?"
"I was watching you teach, sir."
"No you were plotting to sneak in here during the middle of the night and steal some bizarre herb that you have no use for from my personal stash! How dare you think that—detentions for the rest of your life!"
Not only was the chaser's exaggerations of the hated potion's professor funny, her warm, charming tone voicing Severus's thoughts was like a chicken pretending to be a fox.
Their game ended when the Hufflepuff team entered the Quidditch Pitch. Clearing off, the two friend's parted ways. Both left with a smile on, both left wanting more.
§
The rest of the day went by fairly quickly until their last class of the day—Herbology, was interrupted by a short, Ravenclaw girl who gave a message to Harry.
"Who is it from?" Hermione asked from behind a Snapping Lily, from which they were removing seeds.
Unfurling the tightly wrapped parchment, Harry whispered the note aloud for them.
Harry,
I should like to see you in my office tonight at 5 o'clock for a quick chat. Oh and bring some Licorice Wands with you.
Best Greetings, Dumbledore
"What could Dumbledore want with you?" Ron asked, prying his wand away from the large mouth of the growling yellow flower.
His receiver shrugged. "I don't know, has to be more then a simple hello though."
The clever witch froze the plant then turned around to her to friends, her voice cautious.
"Harry do you remember what the headmaster said, warning us about Blair?"
They both shot her a blank look which made the muggle-born sigh and elaborate.
"Never give her your full trust—ever. Ring a bell?"
"Yeah but... I mean Kryeen never actually tried to kill one of us..."
"I don't know, that 'test' she gave Harry was pretty serious." Hermione said darkly.
"Yes, but she also saved Lupin, and Celia—Dumbledore must trust her now..." But even as the raven-haired wizard spoke this, doubt crept in.
"Still, she hurt you and who knows what Kryeen would have done if the Order hadn't stopped her."
"Blair was only looking through my memories, we've been through this Hermione." The green-eyed teen defended his DADA teacher while reminding his friend's of what had gone on. Naturally, he had told them everything the woman had said.
"But that's it isn't it Harry?" She stared at him with wide cocoa eyes. "Dumbledore probably wants to talk to you about your 'lessons' with Professor Kryeen."
Voldemort's younger rival ran a hand through his hair nervously, suddenly looking quite like someone else..
"You... You don't think he's angry or anything do you?"
The indecisive looks on both their faces was enough of an answer.
§
Winter's pale light of silver-white shone deep throughout the sky. The scarce grass was a faded jade, only a few patches surviving the cold chill that had gripped the land. A great oak beside the lake now lay naked of its leaves, powerful boughs reaching in dark intertwines. The surface of the water was surprisingly undisturbed, its occupants in hibernation or away. The deep onyx had a faint cerulean sheen, easily outclassed by the blue eyes of the girl sitting beside it, leaning against the trunk of a tree. Faint laughter rolled with the fingering breeze, toying with the witch's long, cocoa-brown locks of hair. It held her faint scent—calming lavender mixed in with the earth it easily brushed up and the water it pattered across. The figure snuggled her long robe of deep navy satin a little closer, but kept her eyes closed in content for the peace of Hogwarts.
"Is something bothering you Celia, you have been strangely sad these last hours." A voice spoke in smooth, seductive, haunting melody.
The Slytherin turned to her companion, smiling at his transparent form.
"It's Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy... Draco took me in and without him I would still be on the streets. I owe him my life, but Harry is a good friend. He helped me fight off Salizar's guardian when I might not have been able to. But it seems I can never befriend both for their loathing is so strong for each other... It does sadden me a little, Daemon, to see such disgust and to be in the middle of it."
The teenage phoenix looked away from his friend, ice-colored eyes portraying thoughtfulness as he put one hand under his sharp chin.
Magnatine observed the boy for a moment. When she and Daemon had first began to hang out, the seer had been more than a little surprised. It was not the idea of befriending a human locked inside a bird's body, but actually seeing the effects of it. Though the breeze swished the brunette's hair around, his long red strands remained untouched. And while the crimson-haired male remained in a sitting position beside her, his faded form never actually touched the ground. One time the beautiful witch recalled vividly was when they had talked in the rain, and the drops went straight through his just defined form. But at other times, when it seemed the light was captured in his arctic orbs and glistened off his straight hair, it was easy to forget.
Sometimes I wish I could always forget...
The technical muggle brought his friend from her thoughts with his astounding voice, ever reminiscent of the creature whose form he took.
"I think that all people fight, Celia. Opposition is a part of our nature—it compels us to do better, allows us to see fault in others. Fighting is a factor that allows us to amended ourselves."
She blinked with curiosity and mild astonishment.
"How so?"
Daemon paused, fixating the owned teen with an understanding, connecting stare.
"If I asked you to chop down that tree do you think you could do it?"
"No..."
"Ah, but if I covered your eyes and asked you to swing an ax blindly and keep going because it was important, do you think you could do it?"
"I suppose so..."
"And if you met resistance from the ax, would you not simply pull it back and swing again, because it was what you know you could do?"
"Swing an ax, I probably would keep trying."
A gentle smirk had appeared on the teacher's lips.
"And you'd keep doing that until suddenly, you've chopped down the tree."
The reserved person waited patiently for elaboration.
"You never realized what you could do, until you met with resistance on an act you knew you could do. You fought with the tree in essence, and in doing so you overcame boundaries deemed impossible simply because you attacked opposition."
The cryptic words made clear sense to the clever sixth-year and she gave an appreciative smile before speaking in her soft tones.
"Our hour is almost up, so I will say goodbye to you for now."
A slight shadow crossed scrunched his face, but Daemon bowed to her. "Until we talk again, take care." His human form shrunk and became more saturated, heavier and smaller until with a shock of red feathers, he flew up into the castle windows.
The cold bit into Celia once more, but she was not quite ready to re-enter the castle.
Overcome boundaries deemed impossible... I may have to try that some day.
§
Harry strode up through the many winding, twisting, and even vanishing stairs of his true home. He made his way up to the silent stone gargoyles only to find another large presence there.
"Hi Hagrid," With all the sudden stress, the teen realized he had not had time to visit his friend.
The burly man turned to the pupil in surprise. " O, hello Harry. Wha'd you doing here?"
"Dumbledore asked to see me." The seeker hoped the Care of Magical Teacher would not press the matter so quickly added, "Why are you here?"
The half-giant gave him a quizzical stare. "Ya see, the creatures aroun' here have bee' acting kinda funny. And the chatdemer had vanished from the lake. Somethin' stirred them up. But if Dumbledore be wanting to see ya, I'll come back later."
With that his friend lumbered off, leaving a slightly apprehensive Potter to say 'licorice wands' to gain access.
The gargoyles hoped aside eagerly and the sixteen-year old wizard knocked on his Headmaster's door.
"Come in please,"
With a slightly hesitant entrance, Harry slid into the familiar circular room, tinkering with silver instruments and buzzing with snoring portraits. The famous wizard sat behind his wide desk, blue eyes twinkling and an easy smile greeting him.
"Ah, Harry have a seat." The silver-bearded man gestured to a comfy arm chair and pulled up a dish of sweets, which the boy declined politely. Despite his own reassurances, the Chosen One was still nervous and decided that sugar on an acrobatic stomach was an ill-thought out idea.
Hands folded, the Headmaster surveyed him over his spectacles. "Do you know why I called you here?"
Rubbing his hair anxiously again, the DADA prodigy replied. "Er... I have an idea."
"Well then, let us put our imaginations at rest. I am here because you are taking some form of private lessons from Professor Kryeen."
His tone had been soft, but detached and the wizard's stomach did another stance. There was a moment when Dumbledore simply observed his favored student before talking again.
"Do you remember Harry, after Mr. Longbottom's incident, what I said to you pertaining to your current Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"
A sinking, guilty rock plopped down the earth-toned child. "Never... never to trust her."
But Albus was giving him a proud smile. "I of course, have often been told that my greatest weakness is my unwavering trust in people. Personally I find it much more useful then spell casting, but nonetheless I am naturally inclined to see the best in people. You have probably noticed this on the subject of Professor Snape."
"Blair and Snape are totally—" The emerald-eyed wonder's word fell as his teacher held up a hand for silence.
"That debate is for another time Harry. I suppose what I am trying to say is that, did you not find it odd that I told you not to trust Professor Kryeen?"
To tell the truth, he had not though of that. Biting his lip, Potter tried, "Er—"
"You see Harry I am exceptionally glad that you have taken the time to trust Professor Kryeen because I trust her as well. The warning I gave you that day, she asked me to say to you."
§
After his conversation with Dumbledore, a certain Gryffindor had a thousand questions to ask his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Unfortunately, they would all have to wait until after dinner. After being unable to complete one sentence on his charms essay, the boy decided to walk around the lake. This served to cool him off and allow some time away for private thoughts, which kept blurring in his head.
Why would she... Why would someone not want people to... Of all the stupidest...
In fact, Harry was so preoccupied in his thoughts that he did not notice where he was going until his steps led him right into something solid. With a small grunt, the boy-who-lived fell over, next to him Celia Magnatine.
"Sorry," The seeker said quickly, helping the girl back to her feet.
Those knowing all-blue eyes checked his figure over. "Is something bothering you?"
No, I normally run into people. But the male was used to her unassuming quality, even when she seemed toknow.
"Just got a lot on my mind right now." The sixteen-year old muttered, trying to clear his thoughts for a decent conversation.
The doll-like figure gave him a gentle smile. "Would you like to talk about it?"
No. The first words to his tongue, but when the reluctant celebrity thought about it... Blair had given Celia that medallion one time, and the beautiful Slytherin had a nag for total understanding of... anyone it seemed. "Yeah, okay."
And so he told her... well, everything. The seer was an easy person to talk to, her face showing no more then understanding and at ease, eyes glittering for continuation. And the Quidditch player needed someone to vent to—about how he hated not being able to have a relationship(no names included), about his lessons with Lupin, and new ones with Blair, about how hated Draco Malfoy, and even how Snape and Blair were such different people. It seemed he talked forever, and she kept quiet, listening and smiling. But he knew she understood.
"No wonder you walked into me—that was quite a lot." The brunette finally said after her friend was finished the rant.
The Gryffindor rubbed his hair awkwardly. "Sorry, I did go a bit overboard."
Celia shook her head. "No, I'm glad we talked... You see Harry I've been wondering about our... relationship."
Relationship? Harry wondered if he had given the girl the wrong impression on his 'I-can't-have-a-girlfriend-and-its-not-fair ramble.
Seeing his blush, the fair child shook her head. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's just that Harry, you are a good friend to me." Her delicate features bored into his soul. "But I know that is all we could ever be."
The dumbstruck look on the boy's face must have been what made the girl explain.
"You resent having to sacrifice your life because of Voldemort. You wish it could be different... But everyday, you get up and you keep fighting. You keep protecting people and even giving up your ow childhood to try and stop this darkness. Even if you are an unwilling celebrity, you are a full-blooded hero Harry. And me... I have lived a life where the proud perished and the morally straight agonized. I live to get by, to avoid tension and fighting wherever it is. I try to... please people in whatever way I can so that they will allow me to live in peace. That is why we could never be an item—you are a fighter, and I am a peacemaker. You are the hero I don't want and I am the maiden who you don't need to rescue. But I am glad that we are friends, if you don't mind me calling you that."
Ignoring the hasty ending, the wizard felt her words making sense, a little shred of truth in all this mess. "Your right Celia, thanks."
A smile appeared on his face and feeling a little less worried, the prophesied teen stood up, but finally asked a question that had been nagging him.
"When we first met in Blair's office... what was it that she gave you?"
With her amazing capability to understand her true friend's confusing words the witch replied.
"It was a magical medallion... an anti-pregnancy charm."
As his friend, Harry had every right to get extremely angry at Malfoy for this.
"That big git is he—" Before the young hero could finish, the pacifist had put her hand on his shoulder to quiet him.
"Draco Malfoy rescued me from life on the street. When I asked for this charm, I did not know his conditions on which he would keep me safe. So I was cautious, but for all your loathing of each other the boy has never laid a finger on me. Kissed me once or twice yes, showed me off, but Draco Malfoy has not taken what he could have... Don't look so surprised Harry. I told you I'm not a fighter like you are. I was willing to go that far to stay off the streets, its not a good life there."
Unsettled but forced to accept this information the heartthrob nodded slowly.
§
Flashes, undefined rolled across his sight and her words floated in his mind.
"My earliest memories are few and scattered... They came only in dreams and are the only key to my birth. The eyes I showed you is the only visual memory I have...
There was a voice, a man's. Deep and heavy-laden with laughs as he spoke. "Ally, what are you up to know my dear?"
Then there was a feeling. Falling, hitting something biting and freezing, which burnt the skin and blew softly into the hair. And then a light pressure around the neck, hot breath licked against the cold as it pulled the body our of the snow.
The last was a smell—the wrong smell of blood mingling with sweat and the stench of a wet animal. Dirt blended with the scents of the wild, and something potent suddenly entered the air...
He gasped, pulled out of her memories again.
"Some crazy dreams you have." The green-eyed seeker tried to joke.
Blair gave him a smirk. "Well it is a bit more interesting that your tale of evil step-families, a half-giant, and learning your a wizard."
The younger of the two scowled in mock. "At least I know my age and name."
The multi-haired woman flicked her student easily on the head.
"Were you able to learn anything from my memories? Your memories of your first days are meaningless."
Ignoring her comment, the black-haired boy replayed the snatches in his mind. "I am sure those are my mother's eyes though. I'll bring a photograph tomorrow and see if it means anything to you."
Their hour had proceeded with little. Harry shared his first important recollections and the immortal had explained that before her life with Blayne she knew almost nothing. Her captor had destroyed every memory of her childhood before then, but she was determined to find out who she was—her age, parents, hometown... And had been searching ever since leaving Blayne almost two years ago. But those memories... what to make of them?
"Why is it that every answer I find brings ten more questions?" The wizard snapped, rubbing his head.
The Aduru opened her mouth for a snappy retort when something happened. It was almost as though a pulse had just shot through everything, one giant ripple.
"What was that?"
But Blair was not listening. Her lean body taunt, golden eyes wide. Another pulse came, shuddering through the world. Striding with amazing speed to her window, the DADA professor threw it ope to reveal a twilight quickly vanishing into nightfall, a few stars seeping through.
"Professor?" Harry called, confused and slightly alarmed.
The Eposis ignored him, but a hand clenched the nape of her neck as though it was bleeding, golden eyes hard with understanding.
"That idiot—he's done it! Stupid mortal, he's brought Death into this war!"
§
A/N: What has Voldemort done? Any theories, its fun to read them. Anyways the next few chapters will get deep in the immortal magics and a pissy vampire king. Thanks to all my reviewers—your my inspiration!