Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. OK, I lied. I own the seven Harry Potter books – but that's it! I swear!!
Summary: After a bout of magic that leaves Dudley paralyzed, four-year-old Harry Potter is left for dead in London by his uncle. Fortunately, he was found and rescued. Unfortunately, he was found and rescued by a gang of vampires. What happens when the saviour of the wizarding world is raised by creatures of the night?
Warnings: None.
A/N: Sorry it took me a while to get this out. I actually had this written in early November of last year, but I didn't like it – so I didn't post it. Then Spring semester of college started up and I began doing the things necessary for studying abroad (which I will be doing for the Fall 2008 semester!!) along with the normal school work. Now, it's summer and after looking over the fifth chapter multiple times throughout the year, I decided I think it's as decent as I can make it.
Also, keep in mind that my Lord Voldemort is a bit more rational so please don't complain to me about him being blatantly OOC. I tried putting a bit of humor in here as well – but it will soon get darker, so the rating may change. And last, but most definitely not least, thanks to all the people that reviewed! It did really motivate me to write – the only problem was that I didn't like how it turned out. I'm terribly sorry but I have a plan so I'll hopefully post up the next chapter before I leave the U.S. in late August, if not more.
I hope you all enjoy this!
Siri
Original Date: 11.05.07
Today's Date: 07.29.08
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Zayn Callunde: Saviour or Traitor
Chapter 5
The Downside of Being Feared
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Zayn Callunde stood up as the seven figures entered the room. His blank eyes studied them for signs of nervousness and any other type of weakness. He was rather confident that he knew who the seven were, the problem was that they did not get to know each other well enough with their schooling and his duties. From what he knew of them, however, he was sure they were competent enough. The only issue they would have to overcome was trust, and it was a hard obstacle to overcome, especially with Slytherins and with someone of his own past and his considerable lack of socializing skills with people his own age.
By now, the small group of robed Death Eaters had completely entered the room and stopped before their Lord and the Heir. They all took a bow before standing up straight as befit their status as Purebloods and waited for a response. Lord Voldemort stood up from behind his desk and strode forward only to stop beside Zayn. He gazed upon them for a moment before speaking.
"I had a proposition with Zayn." He paused, gauging there reactions. There were none. "It involves everyone here. I will leave the details for Zayn to relay and from now until further notice, you take your orders from him, after me." With one more sweep of his eyes to his followers, he nodded once at Zayn and gestured towards the available chairs before sweeping out the door. Once the doors closed with a gentle click, Zayn looked over his own followers, to an extent, and possible allies, if not friends, in the future. He was not that surprised that Voldemort had decided to let him use his own study to conduct the first meeting. The Dark Lord had probably casted a spell in there that recorded everything that went on.
Zayn decided to test the Death Eaters and get a feel of their stance on the change of events.
"Well, everyone here heard the Dark Lord. Please sit. There's no need to be uncomfortable during this," Zayn started, taking his own advice. "Also, it would be nice if I could see who I'm speaking with…?" He raised an expectant eyebrow. At that, the figures in front of him cautiously reached up to let down their hoods. Zayn allowed a smile to appear on his face briefly, after all he had an image to uphold; his original assumption had been correct.
"Thank you," he acknowledged their compliance. "I am Zayn Callunde, Heir to the Callunde Clan. My family is the one that has been doing the deed, if you will. I usually work alone, but due to the insistence of the Dark Lord, we are to work together this once. I'm sure we all met before, though we haven't really gotten to know each other much. This really is quite a nice opportunity for me. I have been waiting for this moment for quite a while." He slowly studied the faces one by one to see their reactions.
"Ah – Master Callunde," a rather stoutly-built girl cautiously spoke out.
"Zayn," Zayn corrected.
"Zayn, then," she amended. "What would we be doing? Oh, and I'm Millicent Bulstrode." Zayn smiled. The hurdle was broached at last.
"Millicent." He nodded to her. "Seeing as I just received this idea, I would need to plan out something before I tell you what it is that we would be doing, wouldn't you agree?" The girl flushed a bit in embarrassment. Zayn raised an eyebrow with that and looked at everyone else. Honestly, no one seemed up for opening up. "What I do know, however, is that my assignment would be Fudge." There was finally a response to that and Zayn grinned outright. Actually, it was more like a series of responses. The other girl squeaked, Millicent's eyebrows shot up, three of the five males' jaws had dropped while the remaining two merely widened their eyes. "Finally! I was wondering if everyone had been petrified!" The other girl's face, who he believed was a certain Pansy Parkinson, held a small smile at that, though the others remained generally impassive.
"One thing's for sure, with such an… important figure to get rid of, I will be the one doing the killing." At the last word, his audience flinched, though he swore he heard someone release a breath in relief. He hid a smile as it confirmed his original suspicion of how none of them had gone on one of Voldemort's infamous raids quite yet. "Everyone here will be helping each other and in doing so, we have to have a semblance of camaraderie, agreed?" There were a series of nods in reply, though several were done hesitantly. Zayn mentally gave out a loud sigh of frustration. This is going to take a while, he couldn't help but think before he tried to subtly get the males in the group to at least say something. "So we are in agreement." Again, he was met by stares, though accompanied with nods of the head. Suddenly, his patience snapped.
"SO WHY ISN'T ANYONE SAYING ANYTHING?!" The seven people before him jumped and stared at him in shock. "Finally! I had thought that the Dark Lord had sent me mutes." One of the males looked offended at that, but Zayn shrugged it off. They deserved it, seeing how long they kept quiet and appeared to stay that way. "Seeing as how the Dark Lord did not as of yet give me a deadline, though I should have some sort of plan by tomorrow, I thought we could get to know each other a little better." Again, he was met with silence. Zayn narrowed his eyes as they flickered red with annoyance. "NOW!"
The group scrambled to sit up and they all started talking at once, though with the innate grace of purebloods. Even so, it was obvious they were flustered and even – afraid? Yes, they were afraid of him and what he might do to them. He supposed that being the extension of the Dark Lord might have the effect, but it was something that had to go – or at least when it came to himself. He didn't want mindless minions under him, after all.
Zayn mentally sighed and refrained from banging his head against the wall as he noticed several eyes flick to him every so often. I really have got to get my people skills together.
IOI
"Can you believe it??" The young heir was raving at his foster brother in all but blood, Eteir. His arms were waving madly about and his eyes were wide with incredulity. The elder vampire being ranted at was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed looking highly amused. "When they finally started to talk, they would only talk with themselves! That's no way to trust me – why would they need to speak with each other anyway? They bloody grew up with one another!" He suddenly stopped and glared at Eteir. "You're not helping me."
The said vampire widened his eyes in fake innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about," he sniffed. "I'm supporting you silently." Zayn growled and threw up his hands once again.
"What should I do to get them to open up to me? It's not as if I'm that intimidating or anything. I'm their age!" At that, Zayn heard a snort emit from Eteir. "What?," he snapped.
"As amusing as listening to you rave about the miniature Death Eaters and how they wouldn't talk to you, I have to point out something rather obvious that even the Oh-So-Powerful-and-All-Knowing Zayn Callunde hasn't realized yet." Another glare was aimed at Eteir once more. "Oh don't do that or your face will stay permanently that way." There was a soft growl in response, which was also promptly ignored. "Even though you're the same age as them, you're also infinitely different and on an entirely different level. You're the heir to an incredibly respectable vampiric clan, you're fast becoming Voldemort's right hand man – vampire, I mean – and you have a distinct aura about you that practically screams 'death!' Not to mention the fact that you seem to be chummy with their Lord and that doesn't make you seem like the best person to cross or get along with."
"But I'm just a normal person and I am not chummy with Voldemort," Zayn protested.
"To you, maybe, but to them, you're someone to be respected and admired from afar. It may be too dangerous for them to get to know you more, besides as merely their leader and, at most, a comrade. In addition to that, humans are naturally our prey – it's natural that they feel this way." At Zayn's downtrodden expression, Eteir sighed. "Time is all it will take. Spend more time with them and subtly let them know you. Even so, remember to keep your instincts about you. You may be in Voldemort's good graces, but that means that many out there in his ranks will be out for your position and I also don't trust Voldemort's motives." Harry sighed, though he looked distinctly less depressed.
"All right." Eteir grinned and strode towards the Heir and ruffled his hair affectionately before speeding away from the volatile Zayn and his striking distance. Zayn glared half-heartedly at his brother before sauntering off to his rooms to think through what Eteir had said.
IOI
Miniature images of a meeting gone wrong reflected in crimson eyes, currently light with amusement. The Dark Lord Voldemort was replaying the first meet between the Callunde heir and a few of his followers and he had found it a great form of entertainment. As a matter of fact, this was the fifth time he had replayed it and he still hadn't tired of it. The small figure of Zayn Callunde seemed to be frustrated and at the limit of his tolerance, if his facial expression was anything to go by, whereas the other members were talking animatedly with one another, their faces white with what he could only guess was desperation and fear, a consequence of their pureblood upbringing and the obligatory mask. Voldemort let out a string of laughter from the irony of it all, something that would have chilled anyone near enough to hear it. He leaned back into his leather-backed chair and laced his long fingers together.
He originally never thought he would ever let the young heir – and in another life time, most possibly the bane of his life – have so much power, but he did. The young man was a great asset to his side and securely held a majority of the vampires over as well. He also made great company and, as he had experienced, was a marvelous form of entertainment. No, he would keep the Callunde by his side by any means. It would be a great blow to him and his Death Eaters to have anything else happen to destroy it – especially if the Light found out the truth. For now, he had the upper hand and he had no intentions of handing it over.
Letting his eyes fall to the translucent sphere that showed glowing green eyes before going out, he made a note to do something about the new Death Eaters and their blatant fear of Zayn as it was making the mission go nowhere. Making a quick decision, he called out for one of his most trusted followers, even if he only did so out of fear, and the little miscreant scurried in the room as quickly as he could, groveling before Voldemort.
Voldemort sneered down at the cowering figure. "Stand up, Wormtail!" The figure got to his feet, though not much of a difference in height occurred, and bowed once more before speaking.
"Y- yes, Master," a quivering voice inquired from within the dark cowls of his hood. The fear emanating from the coward was thick enough to taste.
"Come forward, you imbecile!" Voldemort hissed, his eyes flashing in annoyance. Wormtail rushed forward, tripping once on his robes. Voldemort stood up and looked down upon him in disgust. He snatched his follower's left arm and pulled up the sleeve, uncovering the Mark. With a malevolent grin, he pressed his thumb onto it, eliciting a high-pitched scream.
It was time he had a little talk with his newest followers. By the time he was done with them, they all walked as quickly as they could towards the exit with one thought going through their minds: Be more friendly and open to the Heir – or else.
None of them wanted to know what their Lord had up his sleeve to fulfill the "or else" portion of his order.
IOI
A frustrated face reflected in a silver framed mirror. As the face sighed, a lock of midnight black hair fluttered before coming to a rest once more between two emerald eyes. Zayn Callunde scowled at his reflection before burrowing into his arms.
It was utterly ridiculous, he thought, that he could kill people without a thought, but when it came to having a descent conversation with someone in his age range – or even getting a sentence out from someone else – he was at a loss. He had been sitting at his desk and mulling over ideas on how to get everyone cooperating with him for the past three hours and he still hadn't gotten anything worthwhile. The only thing he gained from the time alone was one heck of a headache and a parchment full of random doodles. With another sigh – and a 'you mustn't do that too much' from the mirror – he sat up, reached for a fresh scroll of parchment and inked his quill before he proceeded on staring at the parchment, his mind temporarily putting aside how to get along with his charges and moving onto a plan.
Before he so much as put his quill on the parchment, an insistent tapping noise emitted from his window. Glancing up, he spotted the Dark Lord's crimson-eyed Raven and he got up to let it in. The large bird flew in and perched on Zayn's chair, his long claws slicing deep into the upholstery as Zayn scowled at the bird and shooed it off. This time the bird perched on Zayn's shoulder, his claws digging rather painfully into his flesh. With a wince, he untied the missive and the bird promptly flew out the window with a lingering caw. He surveyed his damaged furniture and with a wave of his hand, repaired it, before he sat down.
The letter was done in a thick, black parchment, and it was addressed to him in an elegant spidery hand in silver ink. It was sealed with a deep red wax branded with the Dark Mark. Zayn's eyes furrowed as he figured out why Voldemort would write a letter to him now. He hadn't expected anything for days. With a shrug, he slid a sharp nail through the seal and felt the odd tingle of an identification charm before he opened it. More of the spidery handwriting greeted him and he perused it.
Young Master Zayn,
I hope this finds you well. The reason for this was to reassure you that you shall have no more problems pertaining to my followers and their lack of obedience. The next time you shall meet together shall be more productive, I trust. If this is not so, do not hesitate to inform me and the situation will be rectified.
LV
By the time Zayn had finished reading the message, his eyes were sparkling in amusement and he found himself wondering how he had rectified the "lack of obedience" in his followers. As soon as he thought that last thought, he decided he really didn't want to know. With a laugh, he made to sit down and go through his plans with a lighter load than before, but before he could, a series of taps were heard from his window yet again. Raising his eyebrows, he strode to the window to open the window for the second time in five minutes to let in a regal Eagle Owl.
This time, Zayn could help it and began to laugh loudly, clutching his stomach with one hand while supporting himself with the other hand on his desk.
He knew for a fact that that particular owl belonged to a certain Malfoy and he couldn't wait to see what he had to say.