Saith

by Leechcraft

Summary: Harry has had dreams since he could remember. Oh not of Voldemort but of Vampires. Two in particular. What happens when he finds out they're not just dreams? Creature/VampireHarry. OC WARNING. Slash. D/s. AU SORRY THIS STORY IS ABANDONED. (It's kinda crap, lol. I might do a rewrite and finish it someday but probably not. It was basically my first fanfic/first book. )

5. Chapter 5

So the name of the series is Harry Potter, right? And the name of my story is Saith, right? You all know this from SATs and online IQ quizzes right? If you don't let me make it clear.

SaithHarry

Yeah the only reason I didn't put go ahead and put Saith Kiinn as the title was I wanted to keep some secrets but now that thats out lets throw the cat out of the bag.

YES Harry is Saith. Hylaarr and Osset're are both his parents, and Osset're was the one who carried him, though only for a day, in a womb created by magic expressly for Harry/Saith. No, Harry is never going to magically turn in to a little copy of the vampire duo without something(magical) causing it. IE: An adoption ceremony (oops! Shhhhh) or Seren suddenly realizing that she was really wrong, confessing everything, and reversing her spells provided she can actually do that. She may have made them permanent.

Albus Dumbledore may or may not have the knowledge as either speculation or fact of the unconfirmed and unproven accusations that one Harry James Potter, as yet unconfirmed also the thought to be deceased Saith Kiinn, was maliciously with the intent to do bodily harm attacked repeatedly in the form of, also unconfirmed if true or false, punishments that were not, as yet not confirmed nor denied, actually deserved.

Ford Prefect (also called Ix) is a fiction character in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by the British author Douglas Adams. He claimed to be from Guildford in Surrey, but in actuality he was from a small planet somewhere in the vicinity of Betelguese: Thus F.P. Betelguese Elementary School. That all belongs to Douglas Adams don't cha ya know.

All right Darlings. Here you go. Hylaarr and Osset're slashyness in the second scene. If you don't like it DON'T read it. K? Good.

Still NEED A BETA.

October 25th Morning

The forest was alive with the life that laughed and whispered and ran about in abandon through the falling leaves. The cool wind whispered and the trees laughed in delight as the pale sun blinked down and fell through the branches to gently kiss the ground. Kiinn stood in the shadowed embrace of a tree and simply breathed as he listened to the calm that surrounded him.

It wasn't like winter, with the cold and the quiet and the feeling of a soft sleep, nor like the summer with the warmth and the loudness that life indulged in to celebrate the end of spring. Autumn was unique and by far the most expressive time of each year. It was when the creatures who had indulged all summer finally wound down and began to watch the beauty of life rather then inhale it. It was when the world finally sat and listened to the dying chatter of the day and felt the sun begin to sink below the horizon and just absorbed the color that began to streak across the sky. It was the dying of the day, when shadows began to creep and the coolness of the coming night whispered to everyone that they should find shelter and take heed as soon everything would sleep but laughed as they lingered until the last ray of light disappeared.

Kiinn smiled, his eyes watching everything, and simply breathed. The smells were the best part of the forest and for a vampire they were exquisite. The stillness he had maintained since arriving was addictive. To move, to let his presence be known, to end the peace and calm was abhorrent. Osset're wouldn't understand. He was always in movement, dancing like lucent fire, drifting silently like smoke, whispering and laughing in abandon like rain. The vampire mage was beautiful and loving and was loved by everyone who met him, most especially by his mate; but sometimes being around him was like being in the middle of an overly animated crowd or sitting next to a fire in the height of summer or eating ice cream on midwinter's eve. Sometimes you longed for quiet or coolness or heat despite your love of noise and fire and ice.

Kiinn had left his mate overseeing the reconstruction of The Golden Suite, their own private chambers in the castle that was called Crescent. The vampire mage was in his element, ordering Younglings about and waving his hands here and there, magic spilling to hover in the air and emphasize his directions. Kiinn had left a small army of young nubile vampires scrambling to obey the Consort and knew that they knew they were there for more then helping hands. They were there to protect their Lord's Consort in his absence. He had whispered in Osset're's ear that he was going hunting and slipped out silently, assured that they would give their life should the unlikely occur and an attack come so quickly after the utter defeat of the previous one. Kiinn looked forward to returning to a clean chamber at the very least, though he knew his mate couldn't resist the excuse to use magic and the chambers would be unrecognizable by noon. They had been attacked again early that morning; The Hawthorn clan, led by the Elder vampire Lady Lenore, had once again tried to assassinate the Lord and Consort of the clan Crescent.

This was a normal past time for vampires. Clans grew and died and then sprang up again, each claiming territory that they eventually were forced to fight for to keep. Often killing the Lord and Consort was the only way to insure that neither clan was decimated in war and usually the clan who succeeded absorbed the one of the fallen Lord without much fuss or fight increasing the size and territory and making it that much stronger. Indeed, Hylaarr had started Crescent that way, years ago, when he was a young man whose strange ways and powerful Will caused others to view him a threat.

Kiinn had spent ten years in books, learning everything he could of vampires and magic and times past, and when he had emerged and refused to follow the rules vampires had for centuries they had begun to target him. The many clans scattered about Europe had been threatened by the new beliefs that he lived by, The Ancient Ways that governed his thoughts, actions, and soon drew the Younger vampires to him in fascination. When the young Hylaarr Somus Kiinn, with his ancient studies directing his path and his werewolf fathers snarling at anyone who stood in his way, started to gather a small court about him the many clans panicked. Kiinn was forced to defend himself and the few who had expressed interest in the Ancient Ways he followed and become friends, his clan small as it was, and finally he realized what he had unknowingly been doing and what he would have to do to survive. When Rhory Silvereyes, the alpha of the growing pack Moondark sat him down he had snarled and hissed and fought as if someone had slapped a collar and leash on his neck and chained him tightly to the ground.

"Quiet!" Rhory had snapped at him. "Now your a smart boy, youngling, but you need to open those god touched eyes of yours!" The smiling silver eyes twinkled at him though the look on the werewolf's face was for once quiet serious.

"Your little pack of vampires is following you not just those ancient ways you spout off about. They look to you for protection and guidance and I'll bite your silly head off before I see a son of mine shirk his duty to his pack." Kiinn had huffed at that and dropped his father's gaze, a sign to both of them that he was open to listening, to submitting to the obviously more Dominant alpha, just as he had since he was a snarling spitting vampire of 13 who had fought and cursed and bit until the young werewolf had bit him and forced him to submit and let him take him off the streets and home with him.

"Son, your pack is a good one, those younglings you've got have good heads and sharp teeth, but they will die if a clan larger than the last one attacks. Don't let make them pay that for their loyalty. Don't ask that of them. Quite a few of them have faced death once and won't be happy to have to do it again."

His father's words had shamed him. He had been forced to look at himself and realize that he would never be happy in another's clan, trying to patiently coax the Lord of it to consider that his ideas might be right despite how different they seemed. He had been forced to admit what he had known for years. That he wanted his own clan, one that wanted to walk down the path that he did and wanted to change the very idea of vampires that everyone had always thought eternal.

He had gone home that night and had quietly gathered his friends, his pack, his clan, and they had planned and plotted for what seemed like months. Finally he had attacked the Blackblood clan and killed the Lord, one Aries Black, and the clan had submitted to his rule and the clan had been no more. It was weeks before the new members could even consider the new path as something they might want to try. It was months before they started reading his research and questioning all they had been taught. It was full two seasons before one even tried. But they did, and inside a year nearly all had. Some couldn't shake the centuries of doing things another way and after exactly a year they were let loose but on the whole it had been a victory. With that victory others came by the dozens, eager to try out this new ancient path. Two years after the first attack they were strong enough to do it again. Inside five years the clan had grown beyond all recognition despite the frantic attempts of the other clans to stop it.

The Bloodlands had been born, and the clan Crescent had been able to for the first time claim territory. That led to much death as the now official Lord of Crescent decided a new way of doing things. The next attack against him and his own was met with annihilation. Every vampire, male and female; all Young ones that had yet to reach half a century were killed. After that the attacks lessoned and each new one was well thought out and slyly planned. Inside of ten years the Bloodlands engulfed the lands the mortals called The United Kingdom.

Now, nearly ninety years later, half of Europe and a good part of Africa was under the rule of Hylaarr Silvereyes Moonrun Somus Kiinn. The Crescent clan had been forced to build a council nearly fifty years ago and each member was appointed to establish a holding in the area of their choosing. Mortals were none the wiser even the magic ones. Oh a few knew; some had ties to a few of the Embraced that lasted through the death of their humanity and some had formed relationships with various vampires as was the normal path of life. The Ancient Ways insured that once aware of the path they followed most mortals were more at ease and often became part of the clan themselves though it was rare they remained human once age began to show.

Now Kiinn was mated, not just mated but wrapped up in a lifebond so strong that the death of either of them was unacceptable. They had been together for the past 60 years and Kiinn was still so wound up in his mate that he couldn't bear to be parted from him for longer then a few hours. Part of that was the Dominant in him. The part that needed his mate to keep him grounded, to keep him sane. It was the aspect of being Dominant and Submissive that really was what the Ancient Ways were about. That path that Kiinn had chosen to walk so long ago, that had transformed the vampire race from a brutal almost barbaric species to what they were today, and it was what had given him Osset're. If for that alone he would have pledged his life to walk them.

Kiinn breathed deeply one last time. That was enough dwelling on history. There were a thousand duties to see to that day. Osset're had been left alone for far too long for Kiinn's comfort and he needed to coordinate an attack on the Hawthorne clan. It was time Lenore stopped living in the past, or at least let those who didn't live in peace.

Kiinn moved and slipped away from beside the tree that had sheltered him. The shadows were moving and the forest was quieter now, not because his presence had been noted, he was far too careful to make such a Youngling's mistake, but because the day had continued as Kiinn had reminisced and now the hustle of the morning was winding down. Soon it would be midday and Kiinn had an elven mate to fetch and drag off to meet with the newest members, refugees of the clan Whitetooth that had been utterly decimated in a war between rival werewolf packs. But first he needed to feed; the deer he had indulged in hadn't been enough after this morning's battle. And further more Osset're was always a tempting meal, even without the rather pleasurable advantage of being mated to him.

October 25th Late Morning

Osset're was rather horrified by the sheer amount of blood that had sunk into the Turkish divan he had had imported just a few weeks past. That the divan stubbornly refused to let his magic work on it was another source of ill content and the reason that Osset're was intently throwing destructive magic at the thing in rather heated ire. The vampires working on the renovations kept a healthy distance between the Consort and themselves and ducked a lot when a flare of magic bounced off the divan and shot off in a random direction. Osset're muttered in elven and hissed at the horrid thing and he could feel his fingers twitching with the need to simply destroy it. The only reason that he hesitated was because it had taken weeks to come by and he had traded a rather valuable favor to the weaver who had at first refused to make it.

"Stupid vampire prejudice. Even after all this time!" He muttered in elven and shot a rather nasty bit of magic at the stupid divan. "The horrid little goblin must have spelled it!" Osset're sneered at the offending beautiful seat. "Nasty earth magic."

He noticed the looks the vampires were giving him but couldn't be arsed to care. He gave up and thew a rather showy mage bolt at the divan. That one shot off and veered for the ceiling, exploding with a rather loud boom and showering down the hand painted Siren tiles that had made up the now smoking far corner. Arsed. That was a good word. A better one would be fu-

"Osset're." The vampire mage froze. "What are you doing?" Hylaarr's voice was mild but Osset're knew better. Hylaarr was only mild when he was about to chew him out for something. Or worse simply punish him without ever telling him what he had done. The Submissive part of him wavered between purring in pleasure at the thought and being worried that he had displeased his Dominant in an irreversible way.

Whirling he turned to face Hylaarr, the most put out expression he could manage on his face, and lifted his chin arrogantly. "Attempting to put this horrid thing out of my misery!" He announced this as if it were obvious and sneered as he threw an offended glare at the divan. Osset're was all bravado and knew it showed but if he could manage to convince his mate that he was in a bad enough mood to need the Dominant's steadying hand perhaps he could wiggle his way out of a punishment.

"Hylaarr's left eyebrow lifted. "Are you?" His face was impassive but his eyes were ever so slightly amused. Osset're breath a small sigh of relief. If Hylaarr were truly angry he would have never let that small bit of amusement show.

"Yes." Osset're growled and, feeling secure enough in his mate's good humor, turned back to the stubborn goblin made piece of shi-

"Perhaps," said a voice suddenly on his right, "It is you who is the source of its misery." Osset nearly melted when he felt his mate suddenly appear behind him and the darker vampire's teasing voice murmur in his ear.

"I hardly think I could be the source of anyone's misery, Hylaarr Kiinn!" Osset said sharply but his now relaxed frame had leaned back into Hylaarr's and betrayed the fact that he wasn't irritated in the least with his mate's teasing.

"Hmm. You are often the source of mine." Osset's eyes grew wide at that, and the little push Hylaarr gave with his hips. Oh. He sighed as his mate began to place barely felt kisses along his neck, climbing until he nipped at Osset's jawline. His eyes closed in pleasure. He really ought to be offended by the last remark. He knew Hylaarr wasn't just referring to his rather, aya, excited state. His mate was often spouting off about how much of a pain Osset're was when he was being to loud or to quiet or to animate or to fast or to well anything that was hyperbole for other people but normal for Osset're. But then the teeth climbing back down his neck bit hard enough to draw blood but didn't sink deeply making Osset're quiet aware that feeding wasn't what his mate had in mind just about now. He forgot what he'd been thinking and tilted his head, the right side of his neck bent and bared in submissive offering, as was proper, and gave up complete control, his body relaxing to let his mate take his weight.

Yes this had been what he had needed. Osset're hadn't realized it before but he'd knowingly been being destructive because he had been unconsciously expecting his mate back any moment. Such a shame he hadn't been aware of his rather devious manipulating until after he had gotten what he wanted. If there was anything Osset're loved it was gloating about getting the better of someone, preferably Hylaarr.

"Out." Hylaarr mumbled this into his neck but the other vampires heard, most likely had been waiting for it. Their Lord and Consort had a rather infamous reputation for being overly excessive in their pleasures. Quickly and quietly they left and Hylaarr took advantage of this to pull his shirt up and let his hand trail an invisible path across Osset're's stomach.

He couldn't help but purr.

Ever since he had become a vampire he had loved to have Hylaarr touch his stomach. Hylaarr's fingers whispered across his skin. Teasing and laughing and trailing fire. He love Hylaarr's hands. The long white fingers, the crescent of each nail, the little plays of hair that were so fine they were just softness. He couldn't help the sigh as they danced and hovered and touched back down again. Hylaarr's tongue was tasting his neck, just behind his ear, and he trembled and let himself.

Chuckling, barely a breath of a noise, his mate pulled away from him and turned him around.

Hylaarr's eyes were bright and intent and glittered with sparks of heat. Osset're sighed. He could melt from looking into his eyes. One was black, the color of ink and night and obsidian, and one was silver, a like moonlight, and dust, and what you saw when you looked out of the corner of you eye. He met those eyes with his own and watched as they darkened. What had they been talking about? Oh yes. Osset're's eyes narrowed.

"The only reason I am a source of your misery is because you lack control." Osset're said it in a carefully calculated tone. It was a challenge and he watched as those eyes glittered again.

"As you say." Said Hylaarr.

And then he lowered his head, not to kiss him but to press lips to his neck once again just where the hollow was. A hand had slipped around and wound itself in his hair and he gasped at the sharp pull, feeling it trail down his entire body like light, and let his head be pulled back. Soft lips mouthed words and kisses and gently began a downward path.

When had his shirt come off? If Hylaarr had left it on the floor...

A sharp nip and hot breath. He was trembling. Hylaarr nips and sucks and kisses, and everything was softness and heat and wet. And fire. Trailing down, back to his stomach. Osset're shifted but was again held fast by the grip on his hair.

"Hylaarr." He was needing his mate now. Hylaarr rubbed his face against his stomach, then pulled away and breathed, and then his tongue licking and trails of cold heat skittered up and down his spine. Osset're felt the gasp that had no sound being pulled from him. His mate was such a tease, the bas-

"Be silent, Osset're." An order and he wanted to sob at it. That was always so hard. And so good. And it meant Hylaarr would finish this with a kiss that fed them both and left him ready and wanting again.

And he wanted.

His mate. Hylaarr. There was no one else. He wanted and needed. And Hylaarr kissed that place, where the skin met his stomach and started down to meet his thigh and was so sensitive. And then he bit softly and Osset're was nearly lost.

He knew he was gasping, would be whining, if not for the order to be silent. He wanted to moan, and plead, and say Hylaarr over and over again. He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from doing so.

It wasn't fair!

Hylaarr's tongue dipped to taste his belly button.

Hylaarr knew if he forbid him something it would make him want it all the more.

Hylaarr sucked and Osset're bit through his lip.

What would he do if Hylaarr ever forbid him to touch him?

Hylaarr hummed and laughed and Osset're's world went white, and he trembled, and his mate was kissing him and possessively biting the lip he had bitten through and then was biting his tongue and Osset're was lost again.

Actually he had forbid Osset're to touch him, long ago, when they had first met. Osset're nearly hummed with delight at the memory. Hylaarr had been horrified at the child that was convinced he was in love with him. He wanted to pout but still couldn't move just yet. Hylaarr was holding him and everything was soft. Hmm. Afterglow was always best with a vampire lover. Perhaps his mate had been justified. Osset're had only been 36. That was barely the equivalent of 13 to humans, and he hadn't looked much older than that back then either. Osset're opened his eyes and yawned, just an opening and closing of his mouth. His lip had long since healed, as was a perk of being vampire. It had taken a lot to bring him around but, of course, he finally did. He wanted to gloat but there was no point to it now. Hylaarr had won the challenge. Osset're sighed. He hoped he didn't bring it up. But of course he would the pra-

"Better?" Hylaarr's voice was slightly concerned and Osset're realized his mate had known all along what he had been doing. His Submissive had needed him and he had taken care of it. Dominants! So- so-

Suddenly he had something to say. "Do you always have to interrupt me when I'm about to curse?" He felt himself scowl when his mate just laughed. "You always do it! I've been trying to get used to English curse words. Hylaarr Kiinn stop laughing at me!"

Hylaarr did stop laughing but pulled away from him and tugged him towards the door. Osset're stopped and just glared before sneering at his mate and using his magic to quickly straighten himself out. He thought about dragging it out and making Hylaarr wait. It would serve him right!

"Come, Osset're. We have things to do." Hylaarr was insistent and Osset're wanted to snarl at him. Then he caught his eyes and the light in them and knew what was coming.

"Do you think I can control myself until we retire tonight?"

He groaned. He should have known better. No one could gloat more than Hylaarr Kiinn.

October 25th Early Afternoon

Remus Lupin's world had utterly collapsed six years ago. The mission Dumbledore had sent him on had been a dangerous one. He was to appear to abandon the wizarding world and somehow infiltrate Fenrir Greyback's pack. Fenrir was to werewolves what Voldemort was to wizards. He fancied himself the ultimate alpha and had built up his pack accordingly, with himself as its center. The pack revolved around him, awake when he was, eager to please and like most of the canine species if you kicked it the pitiful whimpering thing kept coming back for more. Remus had successfully fit himself among the many Dominant weres who had seen the necessity of submitting, despite their instincts to the contrary, in order to survive. An alpha who would tear a child apart limb from limb on a whim was not one you wanted to Challenge despite how desperately you howled inside to do so.

Remus had denied himself his werewolf instincts all his life, as most wizards who were bitten did. The magic that was essential to creating a wizard was what fought so furiously with the wolf, seeing the intruding mind as a threat and literally tearing the body apart in a fight to keep control. That magic didn't think, it only was, with primal instincts far below what quite a few animals had evolved from. The fact that a symbiotic relationship could be achieved, as was what had been the original purpose of the creation of the werewolf by the gods or so thought the many clans that followed the old stories passed down for generations, was never even considered. Instead the magic tore the bitten werewolf apart, and because the wolf's mind was also inside the wizard's so was the mind caught in a furious battle that ended far sooner then nature intended. It was always a toss up to see weather the bitten wizard went insane or died first; and the visual evidence of the fight between wolf and magic was often why wizards only thought of the latter as likely and some never even considered the former. This all made the naturally Dominant werewolf able to slink into the pack virtually unnoticed, as though he were truly submissive to Fenrir, and spy on the alpha whose alliance with the Dark Lord Voldemort had given the light side quite a chilling set back.

The Order of the Phoenix, whose members were the most opposition that Voldemort received as the Ministry was too caught up in trying to prevent the war that had already started, had begun fearing for the lives of their children and loved ones. Fenrir had bitten and turned at least one successfully, at Voldemort's request, and another three had died of the wounds he had inflicted. Of those three two had been children younger then ten. Dozens of other wizards, members of the order and families included, had been attacked and forced to defend themselves against werewolves that were hard to harm, nearly immune to their spells, and madly fanatical about achieving their goal. That Dumbledore had successfully gotten a spy in their midst was a much needed blessing as the information that Remus provided was crucial in the successful defense of many a life including the headmaster and once even their other spy, Severus Snape, who had been discovered by a member of Fenrir's pack and had been warned in time enough to kill her before she could tell anyone of the traitor to the dark.

But it was a dark time and when that very spy that had been saved by Remus's hard won information brought news that the self proclaimed dark lord had a spy of his own, this one a member of the order of the phoenix, well naturally if against their will suspicion was cast in the direction of the dark creature who had been thick as thieves with the allies of that said dark lord for months now. That this spy was close to the Potters, whom the dark lord desperately wanted dead, was also a source of concern and even more suspicion was cast on the him in fear that everything they had worked for would be destroyed if the protection surrounding them was breached. That his own mate, and a lifebonded one at that, acted as if he weren't certain of his innocence was enough to cause his already battle weary mind to falter a bit even if not for the events that followed. Finally, after the tension had become so stifling that even James' slow temper was riled enough to have him blow up slice of bread he was attempting to toast Dumbledore had taken him Remus aside, a day before Halloween, and asked him to return to Fenrir.

"The agony of waiting for battle is what every man both dreads and yearns for, Remus." His blue eyes, tired and heart sore, had watched him intently and a part of Remus had trembled at what he saw there.

Suspicion. He wasn't trusted. Dumbledore didn't trust him. That was enough to make him want to slit his own throat right there if it weren't for the fact that he was innocent. Oh he was sure the old man merely thought the werewolves had corrupted him or some such thing but it was still enough to make him despair. His own mate didn't trust him, Dumbledore didn't. How could James? How could Peter? What must Lily think of him? Remus was falling apart. His pack was turning against him, as if he were a sick infected dog. Soon they would be forced to put him down and he knew, despite how Dominant he may have been had he accepted the wolf, he would never raise a hand to defend himself.

"My boy, all hope is not lost. Voldemort couldn't break the spells we've placed even if someone who knew where it was were to tell him." That was a threat. Even if you are the traitor, the spy, you gave up the light in vain. A small part of Remus snarled and wanted to rip the man's face into shreds. But it was too much to stay. He couldn't face the hatred he felt coming from anyone a moment longer.

Remus left that night and went back to Fenrir. Three days later his world was over. Fenrir was scrambling to get himself and his pack out of England. Voldemort had been defeated and now nothing would stop the wizards from hunting them down and killing them one by one like rabid dogs. Even if they took them down more would come. They would be routed by sheer number. And so Remus had slipped out in the confusion and fled to Dumbledore.

"Remus, my boy." The torch light reflected in his eyes and made them glitter. "You've come back."

Remus wanted to fidget. The Headmaster had made it sound as if he had left mid-battle and fled in fear. He could feel guilt clawing at his throat. "Yes, Albus." He had trouble swallowing. "What has happened?"

"Harry Potter has defeated Voldemort." Remus' breath caught in his throat. "James and Lily are dead." No. Dumbledore's eyes were grave and Remus could see the sorrow in them. "As well as young, Peter. It seems as if their Secret Keeper, betrayed them." He was apologetic when he said that as if it could make up for what he had believed before and what he believed now.

And it was then when Remus' world collapsed. Sirius, his mate, his lifebonded had betrayed the pack. No. That wasn't possible. No. It couldn't be true. A part of Remus' mind broke and his heart broke as well.

Dumbledore had continued to explain. Harry had been placed with muggle relatives. That wasn't right. Harry, his pup, his child; the very last of Remus's pack should be with him. And hadn't Lily always shut down when the subject of her family came up. He could have sworn that she had once said they were estranged for a reason she didn't want to go into. That wasn't right. Harry didn't belong with them. Harry was his.

"It's for the best, my boy." Dumbledore's word was final. Remus had left and forgotten how very final Dumbledore could be a times. He had gone to the Ministry and demanded custody of Harry but was brushed off by a pureblood who laughed at him. "A filthy half-blood without enough money to buy descent robes raise The Boy Who Lived?"

A few days later Sirius had been sent to Azkaban without trial, proclaimed guilty by none other then Albus Dumbledore who was quoted in the Daily Prophet. "Sirius Black was indeed made the Potter's Secret Keeper at James' request. I oversaw the setting of the spell myself. It pains me to say that I made an enormous error in judgment that cost three very dear friends of mine their lives. I will never ask for forgiveness but I hope that the decision I've made to place their son with his only living relatives will begin to make up for it." Remus had snarled at the paper he stood reading in the middle of Diagon Alley and apperated to Hogwarts.

Finding Dumbledore in his office he had raged and snarled and growled at him. He had blamed him for getting Sirius put in Azkaban, yelling that it was his words that had been the reason there was no trial. He had snarled that Harry was his and he would find him and Albus would never see either of them again. That was when the Headmaster had stopped him. He had gently persuaded him to accompany him to St. Mungos, that he was sick, and that Harry was better off where he was. He had escorted him there and given him over to a doctor, quietly confiding in him that Remus was a werewolf, and the late James Potter and Peter Pettigrew had been with him since his school days and that Sirius Black had been his lover.

The burly doctor had poured potions down his throat and bound him with spells so he couldn't move. 'To insure you don't do yourself harm.' The potions calmed him, except the small part that was always enraged, and he drifted. When he awoke his mind was bound up in spells and doctors were wanting him to talk; saying he was sick and they could help him. He wasn't allowed to be without supervision and the full moon was dealt with by a potion that he had never heard of, that locked the wolf away, and kept things silent and quiet in his head. Except they didn't know that their spells had failed. The wolf wasn't chained down, the spells that bound his mind didn't bind the wolf's, and the wolf's whispers kept him from going insane. He had spent a year there before they were convinced he was well enough to let go, but the spells were never removed. Had anyone ever asked him he would have said that it was the worst year of his life.

Remus Lupin sat watching the street that led to number 4 Privet Drive. He had been here for the last six hours, initially pleading an ill stomach before racing to see how the Dursleys were acting towards their charge. They had driven off with a squeal of tires before he could catch more than a glimpse of Harry's uncle's enraged face. He had feared the worse. He had found a bell tower in a near by church, a week ago, and had taken up residence quite a lot there recently. Spells insured he could watch everything that went on outside the house walls with out any of the magical protections detecting him. He knew the Dursleys never went home and had waited quietly until they did.

Around a quarter to seven the car pulled up and a rather pale Vernon ushered his wife and son into the house. Harry wasn't with them. What had happened? Had they hurt him too badly and left him somewhere to die? What if those still loyal to Voldemort had found him outside the protection of number 4 Privet Drive? What if they had him even now? Trembling he waited. It wasn't until dark that the lumbering form of Vernon Dursley crept out and pulled something from the trunk of the car, something boy size but limp with unconsciousness. The wolf howled and raged. He whispered that they would pay. Come the next full moon they would pay. Remus knew that wouldn't happen. He always locked them in on the nights of the full moon. If he hadn't the wolf would have headed straight for Privet Drive and the bindings would have killed them.

Remus' eyes narrowed. But if Harry wasn't better, if he didn't show up in school, perhaps he would forget to lock them in this month. He was close. His research was nearly there, he could practically smell it. Soon. The wolf whispered in glee. Soon there would be blood spit on Privet Drive. And for once it wouldn't be Harry's.

October 25th Evening

Kiinn was woken out of a sound sleep by the whoosh of displaced air and a soft pop. Someone had just drifted into the room.He held himself very still and listened intently but didn't have to wait for long. Grief suddenly poured into the room in waves, pain and grief and despair and longing and hate all permeating the air and causing him to suck in a breath in horror at the destructiveness of it. He tensed and felt Osset're who had awoken just after him do the same. Every muscle in his body screamed they were about to be attacked and this time the attack would be personal. But before he could move a gasp tore the silence of the room and Kiinn heard the dull thud as the intruder hit the ground. Tears, little gasping breaths, and sobs broke through the smell of pain and Kiinn couldn't be still any longer. Neither apparently could Osset're who had moved a second before him to crouch on the bed and stare in shock at the intruder before them. Kiinn moved, his eyes tracking to the trembling form sobbing out his agony into the cold marble.

It was a boy. A child, and quite a young one as well. Powerful magic rose off him in snarling grief stricken waves and filled the room as would a pack fan out to protect their weakest members should they ever enter a strange territory. He smelled of pain, not just emotional, though that was very strong, but of physical pain, and dark magic lingering so heavily it smelled like hate. His mate wasn't able to handle the rawness of the emotion that battered at the senses and clawed at the heart. He made to move and Kiinn's hand shot out to grasp his arm tightly. Osset're wasn't thinking, couldn't think through the onslaught of grief and horror that rose off the boy, but Kiinn knew that something like this couldn't just happen. There had to be a reason that the boy was able to bypass all wards and protective magics that surrounded the Lord and Consort of Crescent.

No matter how powerful he was, a child couldn't have done that and so logical reason demanded that he had been sent here by magic. Either the boy had been attacked and somehow ended up here because of a powerful misdirected spell or someone had sent him here and there was only one reason to do that. To get to himself and his mate, perhaps distract them with the boy and then attack as the very least. At the most, someone had trained the boy very well. A child as powerful as this one would be an inventive weapon against one's enemies. Kiinn moved, muscles stiff and nearly trembling with tension, and slid off the bed and down to the floor where he crouched watching the boy. His Will had 'called' a blade to his right hand, an elven one, made to magically incapacitate an enemy until they could be dealt with. He heard Osset're's sharp intake of breath and held up his free hand to ward off any protest. Cautiously he looked around, peering into the shadows in suspicion. None moved, not a hint nor a sound besides the silent sobs and breathing of the boy reached his ear and Kiinn turned his gaze back to the child who cried so silently so brokenly, and mourned what he would have to do.

The child was a threat, perhaps a deadly one, and to leave him alive, within Crescent's wards was practically begging his enemy to kill him and his mate. He was a threat to Kiinn, Osset're, the clan, and the Bloodlands. Kiinn mourned but his resolve was hardening. The child must die, after insuring that that death wouldn't bring about any harm to him and his own, release a spell created to strike upon his death perhaps. He hated himself in that moment, when the decision was made, and hated what he had become, but more he hated the one who had put the child in this position. They must have know that it would never live. Kiinn narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and made a motion to Osset're. He heard the defiant hesitation in his mate's silence but the magic obediently poured from the mage and engulfed the boy. Suddenly the boy's magic was contained and shunted off , only the smell of it lingering.

The boy didn't notice which Kiinn found either suspicious or relieving. If he had then Kiinn would have know that he'd been trained and thus was an immediate threat, but also was the option that he had noticed and was so well trained that he didn't let on he had and thus was an even greater threat. If he hadn't then the boy was either innocent and could be tended to and questioned and there was no threat, or he could very well have been used, either trained and had his memories erased or sent unwilling to carry out whatever magic was spelled into him. So many thoughts and ideas ran through Kiinn that he couldn't make a decision and in his hesitation Osset're made one for him.

Sliding off the bed he crouched a bit away from Kiinn and crept towards the boy slowly, magic ready in appreciation of the potential threat but clearly a second concern. Finally he stopped just a breath away and watched the child who shook with the force of his sobs and gasped to hold in the sounds. Kiinn's heart felt stretched as he took in that. Both fear for himself and his mate warring with the common sense and sympathy that said that this boy knew suffering. His very silence even in the storm of grief spoke of many years of tears unheeded and practice at hiding them. Osset're looked at him, ever so slightly accusing. His eyes demanded that Kiinn acknowledge the suffering before them and relax his suspicions for once in their life. Kiinn sighed silently. It was rare his Submissive mate challenged him but when he did it never failed to make Kiinn thirteen again and feeling guilty for the defiance he had spouted off at his more Dominant fathers.

He contemplated the child. It looked to be about five or six, although small and huddled in on itself as it was could make it appear younger. It was mourning that was obvious so something horrific must have happened to it. The magic that had hovered about it so cloyingly had been utterly contained by Osset're and he knew that any magic spelled into the child would be contained as well. That only left the child his own abilities to attack them with. Even if he had been trained non stop for his entire life there wasn't even a possibility that he could kill them, Kiinn alone had been trained in warfare and weapons craft since he was thirteen by werewolves and then vampires not to mention the few other things he had picked up along the way.

Osset're wasn't half bad, despite the fact that of the last sixty years he had spent under Kiinn's hand in weapons craft little showed as the mage was by far uninterested in the art and put little effort into his studies. Even still he was able to hold his own, and his magic was the equal to a small army of vampires if a bit misguided in its thinking that it had to please Osset're rather then just keep him alive. Perhaps, if they were careful, it would be worth seeing how this child had come to be here. And once he was assured that he wasn't an immediate threat he could find Seren. The vampire seer would be able to See if any harm would come of him being there.

Kiinn moved closer to the child, still in his tense crouch, and watched him tremble and sob once sounding sounding as if he were falling apart and knew there would be no one who would help hold him together. Sighing he let himself nod to Osset're who immediately let magic spill from his fingers to fall gently onto and sink into the boy. The boy was nearly motionless now, except for his head which he shaking in what seemed to be shaking in denial, and didn't notice the magic. A bit later it began to coalesce on his skin then rose to hover in an odd mist above him. Kiinn knew that his mate could read the mist like it were a hand written book, but watched at it formed into written elven, always a debate weather that was readable or not but the best Osset could do. Kiinn read the statistics and his heart grew heavy.

The boy had been tortured recently, by magic that had been expressly created for doing so, and though he hadn't been held under it for long his mind and body were in incredible shock because of it. Hence the destructive grief that still hovered in the air. If something had happened to this child's loved ones that could explain everything, even his appearance here. It didn't explain the further readings of neglect, starvation, and abuse that showed up though. It was the starvation that had him trembling in rage. For a vampire feeding was as important as breathing. It was life and magic and wholeness of being. To starve a child is the worst crime you could commit in Hylaarr's mind. If the child had been cared for by loving guardians he'd eat his blade. The next reading stopped him cold.

The boy was was seven years old.

Kiinn felt his mouth open a bit in shocked pain, even as Osset're trembled upon reading that. The anniversary of the death of their child, their son, was in a few days. Osset're was moody and on edge because of it but Kiinn knew that he also wasn't doing as well as he pretended. And this child was the same age as theirs would have been had he lived. Caution screamed at him to consider, however carefully that knowledge was kept within the council, it had somehow gotten to one of the rival clan lords who had decided to use this boy to further weaken him and his mate. For once Kiinn didn't listen as closely as he usually did and he leaned to study the boy closer. The child was obviously mortal and human, Kiinn knew this and the readings that Osset're took confirmed it. But he had magic, wizarding magic, Kiinn couldn't help but sneer a bit, and that made all the difference. It was the magic that made all his theories possible and gave no clue as to which one was correct.

He was small, fretfully so, and his dark hair, blacker then his own, was a wild mess. The clothes he wore were obviously new and that made Kiinn wonder what he had been wearing before. Again Kiinn sighed. Perhaps this child would be their downfall but right now he was a child in need, hurt and hurting and without a friend in the world. And as hard as he had become he couldn't ignore that. The little voice that whispered perhaps he was just giving into the weakness he had considered his enemies wanted to exploit was easier to ignore.

With that decision he looked up to meet Osset're's eyes. His mate had obviously going through, if not the same, a similar argument with himself and had lost quiet badly to the side of caution. It was clear that Osset're was lost. He gazed at the boy with such yearning that Kiinn's breath caught, and little blue tears of magic had etched themselves into his skin, a clear sign that Osset're was in as much pain as the boy was if only in sympathy. When his mate met his eyes he could see the begging words the the Submissive wouldn't speak. Not because he had a problem challenging his more dominant mate but because he was terrified of being refused. 'Please,' those eyes said. 'He needs me,' those eyes said. Let me love him. Let me keep him. And Kiinn's heart plead the same in a whisper. And making a decision he nodded his head.

October 25th Evening.

Seren knew her eyes were white. The irises, pupils, and even whites had been covered in a smoky white cloud that sparked randomly with shockingly bright bits of color. This always happened when she was having a vision, and it was quiet disconcerting to those who hadn't seen it before and even those who had. She liked the effect it had on them. It made them uncomfortably aware of how powerful she was. It made them twitch and catch every word they said lest they offend her. It made them submissive before her, even the Dominants. It made them fear her. Long ago she had been a child. Then she had hated the visions, hated how people reacted when they knew of them. She had hated their fear. But that was quite a while past and now she was a vampire, sister to the Lord of the most powerful clan in this realm. None dared give in to their fear for a the greater fear of retribution. Even more, though they feared her and the visions she had, the knowledge that was unnatural for one person alone to bear, she was trusted. She was one of the Three; those who were the absolute ruling power in the clan. Everything she did was for the clan, and that knowledge led them to forgive her nearly anything.

Seren had been eleven when she had been taken. A man in the shadows had attacked her and she had fallen limp in his embrace as he proceeded to sink unnatural fangs into her and drain her of her life. She hadn't struggled and soon she had felt death come sniffing around her skirts and salivating at the thought of taking her. But a shout had rang out and suddenly the man had disappeared and a woman had stopped her from hitting the ground. Then she had tasted blood for the first time and that first taste had never left her tongue. The woman had bled and fed it to her and thus became her Sire, and the woman had taken her home with her. Just as Seren had planned.

A vision a few weeks before had warned her of the attack, and the Knowing had told her of vampires and magic and given her a glimpse of a world she had never thought existed. And she had longed for this world. Where those who were powerful were feared and those who were Dominant were strong. She had been sick of living as a hated, feared mortal and had taken advantage of the vision to insure she was liberated of her humanity. She had never once looked back to see the death of that human child lying in the stench and blood of the alley. And when the woman had taken her with her she had nearly purred in pleasure at the thought of what the woman would become to her.

The woman had been Korren. She had taken Seren with her to her home and proceeded to through her in with the staff. And so a newly turned vampire Seren had been turned into a kitchen maid. It had been helpful at first. Everyone on staff was either vampire, or a feeder, a mortal whose sole purpose was to keep the lady and her servants in fresh blood. Korren didn't like hunting. She was a much more interested in society and having to interrupt the nights she devoted to festivities wore wasn't appealing. And so she had shunned the natural vampire way of life for the easier way of luring mortals into her clutches and never letting them go. She had created a name for herself and then used it over and over again, traveling often, staying ten years or so in each country, before moving on. When she finally came back to England she would say she was her own daughter and start all over again. Her servants were either devoted or enslaved. Seren learned early on to be one of the devoted. Among the servants life was simple. Eat, chores, cater to their lady's rather excessive pleasures, and sleep. But they had known everything there was to know about vampires and their world. Seren had learned a lot, but once she knew enough she had plotted to make herself more valuable to the lady of the house. She had arranged for Korren to see her having a vision.

Things picked up after that. Korren was attentive and doted on her little seer vampire. She plotted and planned and used Seren's visions to advance herself in the mortal world. Seren had thought her vapid and shallow at first but then began to see how devious she really was. In the 1790s change was occurring in London. New ideas were sprouting up everywhere and the onset of the French revolution merely exasperated the unrest and turmoil that had gripped the nation. Writers were spouting off at the pen with radical ideas and a shoemaker by the name of Hardy had formed the London Corresponding Society; its sole purpose seemed to incite reform and annoy the government. Seren was unaware of all that, being eleven, a servant, and a newly made vampire who merely wanted to insure she would one day be a person to be reckoned with, but Korren was. Seren was aware that Korren was immersed in the newspapers and writings that had her laughing in amusement and gasping in rage but it didn't really touch her. Korren never brought mortals to the house unless they were to be added to the servants that seemed to number about thirty at any given time. Whenever she met with friends she did so elsewhere and Seren was none the wiser as to how involved in politics Korren really was.

When Seren turned twelve she convinced Korren to find her a school to attend. Korren wasn't exactly pleased but did agree that while Seren's visions were useful a fully trained gift could be more so. In the fall of 1794 Seren was enrolled in Tiresias Academy in Greece. The academy was very secret and highly unknown. It was remarkable that Korren had even heard of it. When Seren first arrived a Seer by the name of Mata took her aside and explained that they didn't like vampires, and the only reason they were taking her was because she was the most powerful child they had seen in nearly 400 years. Seren had gloated and accepted it when they bound her silence with magic. Seren spent six years on her studies and when she left she had learned far more then Korren had ever expected she would. Not only was her Sight under her control, so was her Will. But the Tiresias Academy was unique in the fact that its children, students and Masters alike, forever remained completely loyal. The vows that each took upon acceptance and then graduation saw to that as well as touchy things like morals that most adopted.

It was those very vows that kept her in check to this day. She had taken them long before she had taken been accepted into the clan and it was to them she remained loyal. She was loyal to the clan, would forever be, but the whims of fate and the future were ever changing and it was her sworn duty to see to it change did not occur to drastically. The boy. Seren nearly growled as her mind again turned towards him, guilt clawing at her. The boy would bring much change. If her plans went without disruption all would be well. If they didn't the future could be very dark indeed.

Seren blinked and the vision left her. The view of her chambers sharpened into focus and the Knowing was brief. She did growl. She had not planned for this!

The doors to her chamber opened and in walked her brother, his intensity a discernible scent around him. Of course it would be Hylaarr. Who else would come into her chambers uninvited and unrepentant. Who else would dare?

"Seren." Hylaarr was distraught and was letting it show. Seren's eyebrow raised. She was his sister yes, but must he be so unaware of his surroundings. She was being petty she knew. Hylaarr Kiinn was never unaware of his surroundings but the vision had rattled her and she felt as if her neck hairs were standing upright. She wished he wasn't there so she could hiss. Better yet-

She curled her lips and hissed, her face darting forward close enough for the spit of the hiss to hit his face had she allowed it. Still remaining so uncomfortably near she snarled at him. "What!"

Hylaarr's face relaxed into impassivity and he raised his own eyebrow. "I thought you would be curious to know that a seven year old boy has passed through every ward and protection we have and appeared in our chambers."

Seren pulled away from him abruptly. She could get away with much disrespect but such a reprimand deserved acknowledgment.

"I know." Seren was careful to keep her tone even.

Hylaarr simply looked at her. "Do you? How much do you know?"

Seren knew Hylaarr. He couldn't hide what he was thinking from her. Her brother was desperate for answers. He wanted reassurance that the boy was harmless. That if his over emotional mate decided to keep him the world would keep on spinning and they all would live happily ever after. Such a shame she couldn't do that.

"I know the boy is powerful enough to have done such a thing even at his age." Seren would make it harder then pulling basilisk teeth to get any information out of her.

"He's been abused." Hylaarr's lips pulled up into a snarl. "Starved."

Seren hid a wince. "I am aware." She forced herself not to shudder. When Hylaarr found out his son had been starved through her machinations, and one day he would find out, his wrath would leave her begging for the end before it was over.

"And are you aware of by whom this came about?" Hylaarr had leaned closer to her now and she could smell his anger.

"Yes." Seren waited for the blow.

"And are you going to tell me who did this so I can tear them apart piece by piece?" Hylaarr's duel eyes were fire and burning metal. Hot things designed to torture once they came to close.

Seren breathed out a huff of nervous air. "No."

Hylaarr's eyes went cold. "Why."

Seren stared at him, she refused to look down. She was not a submissive to be so cowed! "You know some things are inevitable, brother." She deliberately used the connection between them to reinforce her words. Hylaarr knew all to well how some things had to play out or fate's ire would be far heavier when it fell. She knew she had won when he didn't respond immediately.

Finally he spoke. "Well?" He asked impatiently. No doubt he was. The child was alone with his mate and that would set him on edge even if the boy were spelled asleep. "Are you going to tell me what you saw or should I go consult Aris?" Seren sneered at the mention of the werewolf seer.

"If you let the child live he will one day take up the mantle you bear." Seren announced this with as much pompous boredom she could manage. Inside she was shaking at the truth she spoke.

Hylaarr let his mouth curl up in a smile. "And would that be as my murder or heir?" Seren wanted to snarl but held herself back. Don't look so amused, Hylaarr, she wanted to spit at him. The words nearly choked her as she held them back. If you knew you would kill him without hesitation. But she knew he wouldn't. Not even if he knew what she did. He could never kill his own son.

Finally Seren couldn't stay silent. "That boy is dangerous, Hylaarr. Don't go courting such risk because of your soft heart."

"You should know I wouldn't, Seren." Hylaarr never chastised her but the words themselves did. He sighed. "You are too suspicious, Starlight." He said it in a teasing way but his voice was heavy. Fancy Hylaarr Kiinn telling her she was to suspicious. He was the type to behead first and ask the ghost if he had intended to kill him or was just going to get some more tea.

Seren didn't answer him but turned back to the candles she had lit hours before and began her meditations. Hylaarr shook his head and turned to go.

Seren couldn't help herself, be dammed the vows and all that. "'He will lie to you, Hylaarr. Like a cat in the sun after a good hunt." Only not so obvious.

He paused to grin over his shoulder. "Doesn't everyone?" His humor had returned she saw. "You worry too much." With that said he left, sailing out of the chamber like the Lordling he was.

Fancy Hylaarr Kiinn telling her she worried too much. If he knew what she knew... but he didn't. She had made that decision eight years ago, when she had gone against her vows to her bother and the clan and attacked the Consort. If she had told him perhaps... Perhaps the little monster in the Golden Suite wouldn't be sleeping peacefully but picking his teeth with bones and licking blood off his lips. Seren shook her head at that ridiculous image. It was better not to imagine. With her gift it could be a vision.

October 25th Late Evening

Upon awaking Harry moaned and shivered as the world tilted and quickly shut his eyes. His head swam and everything was rather unclear; memories bounced around without staying in one place for any amount of time. Gentle fingers ran through his hair and he froze. The memories suddenly straightened out and he scrambled up, the world tilting alarmingly as he pulled back as far as he could without falling off the bed he was apparently on. He blinked at the sight before him. Hylaarr and Osset're were tucked up into each other on the far left side of the bed, as he had seen them do countless times before; Osset're was leaning against Hylaarr's chest with the Dominant's arm around him, his chin resting on his mate's shoulder. Only once again they were staring at him. Osset're's hand had fallen when he had jerked away and now lay on the bed in a strangely beckoning position. Harry just stared. He held himself motionless, as if thinking if he didn't move they might not be able to see him. For once they were impossible to read. He didn't know what they were thinking.

Hylaarr finally moved, lifting his chin up, causing Osset're to stir a little. "What is your name, child?" He asked it in English.

Harry couldn't understand. His voice was curious; the question asked in an inquiring way, as if he wanted to know but was willing to wait to find out. It wasn't suspicious, nor angry, nor any of the things Harry had ever thought it would be. Harry wanted to drop his eyes but couldn't. Hylaarr might not be snarling at him for an explanation but his eyes were intense and refused to move from Harry's betraying him. Hylaarr wanted answers, he needed them, if only to insure himself that he and his mate weren't in any danger. Harry felt guilt pull him from his shock. It must have been a shock finding him in their private chambers. If he knew Hylaarr he would have been more wary then Harry when Vernon was being nice to him. Now that he thought about it he was more than surprised to find himself unrestrained. If it had been him he wouldn't have trusted someone so easily.

"Harry." He whispered softly and finally couldn't hold Hylaarr's gaze any longer. He looked down. "My name is Harry." He said it in English.

"Harry." That was Osset're. His name was twisted in Osset're's accent. "You are safe." Harry blinked and looked up at him bemusedly. Osset're's eyes were just as intense but also filled with concern and caring. Harry's breath caught. He had dreamed of this, when he was here, when he was at the Dursleys. He had dreamed of Osset're; telling him everything would be okay.

"Harry." Harry's eyes darted back to Hylaarr. "I am Hylaarr Somus Kiinn and this is Osset're Li'essha Kiinn." Hylaarr cocked his head like a curious dog, as if to study him from a different angle. "You are in our home called Crescent." His gaze if possible grew more intense. He looked at Harry as if he were trying to climb into his mind and find out everything about him. "Do you know how you came to be here, child?"

Something whispered at Harry to be very careful. He didn't want to listen. This was Hylaarr and Osset're. He trusted them. They were, perhaps, the only people he did. But that whisper, it sounded like the one that told him to drop his gaze to those who were more dominant them him, to not cry out when Vernon punished him, to listen and watch and remember everything. It had never steered him wrong. And so he heeded it. He didn't let a single thing show on his face and in his eyes and he didn't look down despite how much he wanted to. That could be taken as guilt. Instead he let him self shrink back under the more intense look he was receiving from the vampire lord and shook his head, then blinking, looked around as if he had never seen the marble chamber before.

"Magic." Said Osset're shifting a bit as if he wanted to move but Hylaarr's arm around him tightened. Harry noted it but didn't let it draw his eyes. "You were brought here by magic. Do you know what that is?"

Again the whisper. Careful. Harry knew what it meant. To deny knowledge of magic would lead to him being found out a liar. It would be all to easy to casually do something that Harry, having seen it before, wouldn't react properly to. But to tell of everything he knew could be very dangerous. Harry had been learning from them. He knew how to all sorts of magic that Osset're could do all of which Harry had heard Hylaarr call advanced and even marvel at. Harry also had been learning things on his own. He literally could do anything he wanted after a bit of practice. That could make Hylaarr suspicious. A suspicious Hylaarr was very dangerous. If he viewed him as a threat he could easily decide Harry wasn't worth the risk to him and his mate and simply kill him. Harry shivered and watched as both vampire's eyes took that in. Using that he nodded very quickly, and did drop his eyes. As if he knew. As if he was familiar with magic and didn't really want to be. Why he chose that lie to act out he didn't know.

"Harry, child." Osset're had soften his voice if that were possible. "Do people do magic around you a lot?" Harry couldn't help himself and his eyes widened and he shook his head wincing as the whisper snarled at him for it. But it was okay. Osset're seemed to relax, Harry hadn't even known he was tense until he did, and shot a look at Hylaarr before turning back to Harry. "Do people ever do magic around you?"

He couldn't take it back, that reaction, now. It would really look like he was lying. So Harry went with it, with the truth, which was easier to manipulate. He shook his head wildly and darted a look around as if someone, he used Vernon as inspiration, were going to yell at him for even mentioning magic. Osset're looked triumphant and Hylaarr relaxed a bit although not by much. It suddenly occurred to Harry that they were wary of him. They were suspicious, despite their concern, and had been hiding it. The only reason he had spotted it was because he knew them so well.

Hylaarr watched Harry and spoke next. "Can you do magic, child?" The way he said it confirmed that he knew Harry could. He should have thought of that. Osset're must have checked to see if he could. He knew he would have to tell the truth but it was so hard. He had been hiding it for so long it was ingrained in him to deny anything that might even imply he could. Breathing hard he nodded and looked down but everything he had been taught screamed at him.

Hesitating he licked his lips. "I-I'm not supposed to." He whispered, shaking. He wasn't supposed to do magic, speak of it, or even acknowledge it existed. He trembled. "Please don't tell," he pleaded. But it suddenly occurred to him that it didn't matter if they did. The Dursley's already knew. Vernon had called him a monster and had said he beated Harry to get it out of him. Harry shook his head in confusion. Had they always punished him for having magic? Were they supposed to? If so who had told them and why couldn't he use it?

"Harry." Hylaarr's voice was stern and demanded Harry look at him. "You are not in trouble." His eyes had softened. "We are not mad at you for performing magic." Harry nodded. Of course they weren't. They lived and breathed magic. He knew they would never be mad at him for doing it unless he abused it in some fashion.

"We are curious as to how you came to be here, Harry." Osset're hadn't been able to sit still and he had straighted while Hylaarr spoke and now leaned forward ever so slightly. "Did you do something?"

Harry's mind spun in circles. What to say. He had done something but so had the tall blond mage. The man had used a horrible spell to hurt Vernon and Harry had made it hurt himself instead. But how to explain that when he had said that no one did magic around him? If he said that he had done it himself they might not believe him and if they did they might be alarmed that he could so easily break past the wards Osset're spent days each year constructing. Besides it stood to reason that the magic that the mage had used was dark. That was alarming in itself, but it also made it easier to detect. He could claim not to remember but that could prove problematic if Osset're decided he was hurt and tried to heal him or something. He bowed his head, knowing that it made him look guilty, he was no vampire who used the ancient ways that Hylaarr and Osset're did, but he needed the security of the motion to cover any thought he couldn't contain. It had to be a mixture, both truth and lies. That would be easier to believe and would be easier for Harry to do.

"A man tried to take me away." He whispered haltingly head still bowed. "He cast a s-spell and it hurt and I-" Harry shook his head. He couldn't. He wasn't allowed! But he had to. "The liquid light, my m-magic, attacked him. I-I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to!" Harry was having a hard breathing easily and felt Osset're move towards him then stop. He shook his head and tried to finish. "I don't remember, something happened. The man was screaming and I was h-hurting," For some reason inspiration hit. "It felt like watching my p-parents die all over again." The lie had him blinking back tears. He had no memories of his parents, even of them dying. "A- and the magic stopped it and I felt like I was being smushed into a ball." That had happened once, during that first week at school, when he had been trying to avoid Professor Peter his magic had somehow taken control and he had felt like he was being scrunched and smushed and suddenly found himself on the roof of the school. It had taken a lot to get down without being seen.

"Oh, Child," Breathed Osset're and again moved towards him. This time Harry looked up at the sudden movement and flinched. He hadn't meant it. He knew Osset're wouldn't hurt him but he couldn't help himself. Osset're was going to touch him, pat his back, stroke his hair, or hug him. Everything felt raw, and he just couldn't stand the idea of anything touching him. He knew he would burst into tears if Osset're showed him any sort of tender affection. Osset're stopped as if stuck and Harry saw him swallow in hurt. Harry looked down.

"Harry." That was Hylaarr and his voice was so gentle Harry had never heard it directed at anyone but Osset're that way. He trembled. "You are a very good boy." Harry closed his eyes in shock. No one had ever said that to him. Not even Professor Peter. "You used your magic to protect yourself." Hylaarr continued and Harry shook his head back and forth in denial. "That was right. That was what its supposed to be used for."

Harry wanted to wail but habit kept that inside. He wasn't good! He wasn't. He had been told that time and time again. And using magic! Even that boy, who had looked like the tall blond mage, had said it was against the law. Perhaps it was against the law for someone who wasn't a mage. He must have been one and Osset're was one. That must be it. He wasn't to do magic because he wasn't a mage or elven or vampire. That was why the Dursleys beat him and why he had to live with them. If only he had known. He would have never starting using it! But the whisper snarled that if he hadn't Osset're would be dead and then he was just confused.

"Harry, child." Hylaarr was closer now, Harry hadn't even felt him move. "Your guardians, where were they?" Harry froze. He could hear it in Hylaarr's voice. It was the same one in Professor Peter's when he had interrogated him about the Dursleys. Hylaarr believed he was abused. Harry was abruptly exasperated. Why did everyone jump to conclusions? More, why didn't they ever consider that he might have done something to deserve the punishments. You'd think they'd know better. Children misbehaved. Everyone misbehaved. People were bad and they had to be punished. Harry's punishments were just more extreme. Harry should have known that Hylaarr would be able to tell though. He was a vampire and vampires could see a lot of things that other people couldn't. Why he didn't see that Harry was bad and had to be punished Harry couldn't tell but he knew that he wouldn't be believed if he told the truth. Harry couldn't tell Hylaarr and Osset're about the Dursleys.

Harry tensed as Hylaarr waited. He would have to come up with something. "Ran away." He brought up a sniffle, though that wasn't hard. Tears were very close to the surface just now. "The lady at the orphanage was mean." A bit simple but it might work. Not mentioning the name of said orphanage would prevent them from finding out Harry had lied. A part of Harry whispered that this was a dream, just like it always had been, and they really couldn't do anything but as usual Harry ignored that.

Hylaarr was even closer now, sitting next to Harry, and Harry unconsciously swayed towards him before he checked himself. Hylaarr smelled of the night breeze and lilacs and of Osset're. It made Harry want to smile.

"How long were you there?" Harry calculated furiously. He was seven, but he had to maintain that he remembered his parent's death. That would be about five then. So...

"Two years. Maybe three." Harry sighed. This lying thing was hard. Especially to Hylaarr and Osset're. Why was he doing it again?

"Did she hurt you, Harry?" That was Osset're. He was still where he had stopped when Harry flinched but he was fidgeting and snarls of icy blue magic winked as they trailed down his tan skin like tears.

Harry sighed and bowed his head a bit more. He had to do this right. "Punishment," he mustered a sneer. "She called them." He shrank into himself, feeling horrid at the falsehood he was creating. "I didn't ever do anything though."

"I highly doubt you did." That was Hylaarr. He was growling a bit as he said that, and Harry breathed in relief. It had took. They wouldn't find out about the Dursleys.

Finally, Harry hadn't even known he was expecting it, Hylaarr touched him. Just fingertips to his shoulder, but he jerked in shock. This time, though, it was Hylaarr and he wasn't as sensitive as Osset're. He didn't pull away at Harry's flinch, in fact he even added to it and put his entire hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shook, with shock, and a yearning so strong that he trembled. Did he have to do that? Harry didn't know if he could keep up the lying and his composure if the vampire lord continued. He vaguely remembered when he had first arrived and Osset're had held him close and Hylaarr had held him gently and both had muttered things in elven that Harry had only heard Petunia say to Dudley when he had woken up from a nightmare. Nights like those invariably led to Harry being pulled from his cupboard and punished for causing Dudley to have night terrors because of his freakishness. It shocked Harry how much the memory of them comforting him both warmed and terrified him.

"Harry." Hylaarr said it gently but firmly.

There it was again, that small but definite demand for Harry to look at him. Harry slowly brought his eyes up, first glancing at Osset're then dragging his eyes to Hylaarr. He was staring at him intently, caring and compassion in his expression and body language, but his eyes said he wanted something. His eyes said that he was about to get it.

"You don't have a home do you?" Harry blinked. He had said that hadn't he? "Your parents died, yes? And you were to sent to an orphanage to live?" Harry felt a bit sick in his stomach, but it mingled with terrifying happiness too. "Perhaps to be adopted, once a family saw you, but you ran away first." Harry stared at him and after a moment nodded.

"Would you consider," That was Osset're, and Harry turned to see he had moved forward and was leaning very close to Harry. "Staying here? With us? Let us adopt you?" Harry jerked in shock so hard it dislodged Hylaarr's hand. His eyes swung back to Hylaarr and saw the question mirrored in his eyes as well.

"You wouldn't want me." He blurted out, a gasp and a sob tearing their way out behind that. "I-I'm not-not anything!" How could this be? He had always wanted this, always dreamed. How could it be happening when he was so very very horrible. Not even a mage. And...

"Harry." Hylaarr said it quietly. "You are a very powerful child, with magic that would be unequaled, were you to be adopted into our clan." He just stared at the vampire lord in uncomprehending disbelief. "You would be our Heir, and would inherit much responsibility. More so you would be our child. Osset're's and mine." Osset're nodded emphatically no doubt making himself dizzy in the process. "We would love you, and protect you, and keep you safe." And Harry's world crumbled into blurry lines around him.

He had dreamed of Hylaarr and Osset're saying the things they were now; telling him that he was safe and they would make sure Harry was never harmed again. He had wanted them to love him for so long. And now they were looking at him as if they cared. As if they were concerned about him and they wanted to know everything just so they could make it better. But that was before; when Harry had thought his parent's hadn't wanted him and hadn't loved him and had hated him so much that they thought he needed to be sent to the Dursley's and punished over and over and over. It wasn't true. The man, the tall blond man who had stopped the Dursleys had said that they had been killed. By a dark wizard. Because of Harry. He didn't know what a wizard was but it seemed to be a type of mage. And a dark wizard had wanted him dead and had killed his parents to get to him. Why? Why did the mage want him dead? It didn't really matter. Not just now. What mattered was the fact that Harry's parents had loved him. And died because of that love. Harry shook his head in denial. If Osset're and Hylaarr cared for Harry could they be killed too? Harry swallowed back tears. He remembered two years ago when Osset're had been hurt and he had thought he would die. He would have given up anything to make sure he lived. Hylaarr had been inconsolable. Even if he hadn't loved Osset're so much he would have healed him if just to stop Hylaarr from hurting. If he accepted this, this love that they offered, it could lead to one or both of their deaths. Harry trembled. Could he give up what he had wanted for so long to prevent that? Yes. Everything in him whispered yes. There was no other option. Harry would have to see to it that they didn't love him. It hurt making that decision. Harry hadn't known love before, that he could remember. Not any directed towards him. To give it up; when he just found out that it could be possible. It was worse then learning of his parents. They had loved him and died for him but Harry hadn't loved them. Oh he had felt obligated to them, respect for them had kept him adhering to their wishes even though he lived in misery. But he hadn't loved them and so learning of their deaths had hurt, learning they had loved him hurt more but not nearly as much as this. What was more Harry had no clue how to go about stopping them. After all he loved them. He knew first hand how love didn't care who it was directed toward. It just was.

He had been silent too long. The tears that had made their way down his face had tugged Osset're's sympathy cord too hard to be denied and once again Harry found himself in his embrace, being held and rocked and whispered to in elven. And Hylaarr was there too. And Harry could tell they both were crying. He knew why. They were crying for Harry but also for the child they had lost so long ago. Eight years it would be in a few days. On Halloween. And Harry cried for them too. He was going to have to make them say no. To have them hate him or something and they would loose him too. So close to the anniversary of the boy the had loved and mourned for so long. How could he do that to them?

It would be better then them dying one day because of him. And even if that never happened, even if he knew it would never happen, how could he let them love him when he was so very unlovable. Petunia had said that, and Vernon. His parents had loved him apparently but they were his parent. There was almost an obligation to do so with that type of connection.

"Child. Harry." Osset're was still holding him close but Hylaarr had leaned back a bit. "You might not be aware but Osset're and I are vampires. Do you know what that is?"

Osset're didn't wait for Harry's reply but finished what his mate had started impatiently. "It means that we are other, child. A different race. Magical and different from humans." He paused but Harry was still numb from the tears he had let loose and didn't answer. "We must feed; drink the blood of humans and other creatures able to give it willingly. In exchange we are strong, we heal rapidly, have magic, enhanced senses, and a society separate from mortals. We would change you with the adoption, you would become, not Embraced exactly, but something similar to a Borne vampire and of course you would be the Heir, Hylaarr is the Lord of Consort and-"

"Osset're." Hylaarr cut off his mate's babbling. "Breathe. Now."

But Harry couldn't have been more grateful to the elven vampire. He had just given Harry an excuse to refuse the adoption without having to figure out a way to make them hate him.

"No." He mumbled this into Osset're's chest where he was still being held closely. He trembled at the lie he was about to say. He knew it would hurt them terribly. Better that then dead.

"No. I don't want to be a vampire." He suddenly pulled away from Osset're and twisted out of Hylaarr's hands and looked away, past the bed and to the marble floor beneath it. "I hate vampires."

He felt their shock with the intake of breath they both inhaled. They were hurt, and if he let it continue without embellishment Osset're would grow angry and indignant, and Hylaarr would once again be suspicious of him. Perhaps even see any holes he had left in his lies. He had to continue. A part of him whispered that he should leave it. He only wanted to say more to stop them from hurting but he ignored it.

"My p-parents were killed." He shook when he said that, it was the first time he ever had really. "By vampires. They came and one yelled at F-father a lot, then ordered the other a-and the other." He had to stop once before he could continue. "The other broke Mum's neck." He barely succeeded in making his voice hard and unemotional when he said that but he did. A seven year old didn't speak so bluntly about the death of a beloved parent unless it was in a numb sort of way. " I used m-magic to hide. They didn't see me. The policemen who came didn't believe me. It was them that took me to the orphanage."

Hylaarr and Osset're didn't answer and after a moment Harry didn't care. He didn't know how his parents had died but knew it hadn't been like that. Still, the emotion was the same and Harry couldn't stop the tears now. He felt himself fall, and this time no one caught him. That was alright. That was normal. No one ever cared when he had cried before. He crumpled into himself and curled into a ball on the bed and cried. Now he cried for his parents. They had loved him, and they had died. And now Harry could mourn them. Vernon wasn't here to tell him to shut up, and Petunia wasn't here to make harsh remarks on how horrid they had been and they were better off dead. It was just him, and the vampire's who must hate him cause he had said he hated them. And Harry cried.

And when Osset're for the third time stroked his hair and finally took him in his arms and held him close and rocked him he didn't protest. And when Hylaarr whispered in elven that he understood and it was fine, and then whispered in vampire that he would see to it those who had done that would be punished, he cried some more. And didn't care if they believed his lies or not. For the moment they were there and he was safe and everything was better. Harry cried until sleep took him unnoticed. And Osset're and Hylaarr stayed with him the night through.

So there it is. I hope it meet all your expectations. It was really hard writing Harry's part and I started it a while ago and then had to go and write other scenes. I even had to start a scene from Harry's point of view of the fireworks from last chapter but then it got deleted when I thought I had saved it at work and didn't. Oh well. It wasn't that important. Mostly I was trying to get the Harry mode for this last one. Sometimes things just don't come. I usually wait until they do to write them. I always seem to end with Harry crying and falling asleep. Its getting annoying. I guess I just try to make up for the angst of everything else. Hopefully as he gets older he'll stop all that crying.

A few things were cleared up I hope.

Remus, if you didn't catch that, was put in a mental ward by Dumbles cause he went crazy after the death of his pack and the betrayal of his lifebonded mate. No Remus does not know Rhory Silvereyes or Nir Moonrun.

I hope you liked Hylaarr's father though. You won't see him until after the adoption, most likely, but he'll be around sooner or later. Some history on Hylaarr hope you liked that, and if you want to know why I changed names with him, it was cause of the point of view. Osset're is the only one who calls him by his first name. Well Seren does too but she does that to everyone. Thinks she's better then them or something. His parents might, but I don't know yet. Harry does but then he's never really known him differently. Osset're called him Hylaarr and so thats what Harry always did. Hylaarr goes by Kiinn to everyone else, including himself. I did that because I want the connection between Harry and his parents to hold even after he's in Hogwarts. When he attends it will be under the name Kiinn and that will help in making sure no one forgets his heritage.

I really liked how Harry came out so Slytherin here. You all know he's going in Slytherin right? Yeah I have a hard time with him anywhere else. Besides I'm sure Draco gets lonely being in there all by himself. The lying and manipulation came out just right. I'm not sure if I like it as much as I did when I first finished but oh well. There will be more next chapter.

And as for our favorite vampire duo and their little shannigans well. I'll just leave that up to you to decide if you liked it or not. I refuse to apologize or anything.

So I was threatened with small pointed objects and gerbils if I don't finish this story. Hmm. Kinky. Anyway. I respond well to threats. It must be 'cause I'm Slytherin at heart. The hat would more than likely put me in Ravenclaw but I'd rather be in Hufflepuff then Ravenclaw. I like to think I am evil snake though so I'm going to go with Slytherin. If you all want to review just to threaten me to finish the story feel free. I'm all for creative kinks after all.

Missing you and all that.

Fitful