Children of the Night Part 1: The Book of Death
Chapter 4: Of Riches and Rich Food.
by Polydicta
Summary:
Harry seeks revenge after Hermione is killed, but finds that they have both undergone a life-changing event. Violence, blood, character death, normal marital relations, necromantic themes. ON HIATUS.
This story is on PERMANENT HIATUS - that is, until I feel inspired to add anything more to it. I know where I want it to go but lack the inspiration or the drive to get there. I'm hoping that the guilt of leaving everyone hanging will motivate me … or something.
Disclaimer:
All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.
There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.
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Children of the Night Part 1: The Book Of Death
Chapter 4: Of Riches and Rich Food.
.
Harry and Hermione woke as the sun dipped below the horizon.
"Harry?"
"Good morning, sleepy head."
"Umm … I had a weird dream …"
She opened her eyes and saw darkness. He felt her tense.
"It wasn't a dream was it?"
"I'm sorry, Love, but no."
"Then why am I in bed with you and not laying in my coffin?"
Harry stroked her hair, feeling the warmth of her body beside his own.
"I think we are both Upir, living dead and not undead."
"I don't remember Sanguini telling us that …?"
Harry gently said, "no, 'Mione, it's something I read across several of Sirius' books yesterday as you … slept. They didn't make much sense then, but they do now."
"What books?"
Harry listed the twenty seven titles.
"You read all of those in a day?"
Harry nodded and kissed his wife's hair. "Yes, it would appear that we have something approaching vampire speed, and definitely vampire sight. Now, I suspect that we both need to shower and get ready for the day."
"Night."
"Sorry, I was trying to maintain some sense of normalcy is all."
.
As they showered together, Hermione noticed some marks on Harry's neck.
"I thought you said that you weren't bitten?"
harry smiled. "Not until last morning. You bit me during a moment of passion."
"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry …"
He silenced her with a gentle fingertip.
"No, don't be. It was quite … magical, actually. And then you …"
"I wanted you to bite …"
Harry kissed the place on her neck where he had marked her. Interestingly, the scars from where she had been attacked had faded completely, but these …
"I suppose that we each marked the other as ours. Don't worry about it Love. I guess neither of us feels pain in the same way, anyway."
.
They were sat in the kitchen with Sirius and Remus when there was a knock at the door.
"Who is it, Dobby?"
"A wizard, Harry, calling himself Croaker would like to see you both please Harry, Hermione?"
"Thanks Dobby, I'll see him in. Hermione, could you do breakfast, please?"
Hermione grinned, her fangs lengthening.
"Down girl! A pint each, no?"
.
Harry returned with Croaker just as Hermione put two stoneware mugs on the table.
"Mr Black?"
"Croaker, long time no see. I assume that this is business and not a social call?"
The unspeakable nodded.
"I'll leave you then."
"No, Sirius, We'll take Croaker and our breakfast down to the apartment."
The unspeakable's eyebrows lifted. "Down to your apartment? Breakfast?"
Harry nodded as he handed Hermione through the door.
.
Sitting in the Potters' intimate dining room, Harry took a mouthful from his mug. He nodded.
"Umm … just what is that you're drinking?"
"Fresh pig's blood. It's not as … rich as human, but a lot less controversial."
Croaker asked, "I assume that the sickness you are suffering from was terminal?"
"Well, kind of, but it's not really that simple. We both have a pulse and normal human body temperature."
Croaker looked at the couple appraisingly.
"You are both marked …"
"By each other."
They told the entire story.
"Strange … you were turned without being bitten, Mr Potter. And Mrs Potter, you seem to have the same life status as Mr Potter, despite being un-turned and dead for several days. I fear that I feel another research project coming on … after you have completed your next assignment, the task you would have been given if you had never been taken … unwell."
"Oh? I would have thought that …"
Croaker smiled, the first time either had seen him do so.
"Strange to say, as far as the department is concerned, this is a massive boost. It makes your official hours a little … odd, to be sure, but since you are eminently qualified as field operatives, it simplifies certain tasks we have needed to deal with for some time.
"I can let you have another week to sort out your lives. I understand that this is a … life-changing experience, after all." He chuckled at his own bon mot.
"After that, we will expect to see you in the department. I will ensure that your office has the … appropriate daytime facilities … and that the canteen stocks suitable, umm, foodstuffs for you. Just as a matter of interest, how does Mr Lupin feel about you both?"
Harry smiled toothily, making Croaker swallow hard.
"Remus says that we don't smell or feel like vampire to him, but he has no experience with upir, so he can't speak about that as being typical or atypical."
"Upir? You class yourselves as living-dead? Are you certain?"
Hermione shook her head, her eyes sparkling. "Not at all. The material that Harry found was very vague, being traditional vampire lore. Upir is merely supposition and a simple, if possibly inaccurate label."
Croaker pondered for a moment, uncertainty clouding his mind.
"Croaker, whatever you want to ask, just ask. We know that you ask out of a desire to know and not to be insulting."
He looked at Hermione. "How…?"
"I could smell your uncertainty and, well, fear. Slight, yes, so concern more."
The unspeakable smiled. "Well, I was wondering if we could check you over with Dumbledore's soul analyser and a scale-reading dark detector?"
Harry smiled, less toothily now that he had fed. "That would be … interesting."
.
They flooed to Hogwarts with Croaker and consulted Dumbledore.
"Mr Potter, Mrs Potter, you have … changed."
They both nodded. "A harrowing time for both of us, I'm afraid. We'd both now be subjects for the current DADA professor, I'm afraid."
He looked confused until Harry smiled and let his fangs grow longer.
"Ah. My … condolences?"
"Can we wait until we've adjusted before we accept your condolences. According to Croaker here, congratulations may be more in order."
.
The soul-analyser showed two un-tainted souls.
"Strange to say, both of your souls seem brighter than the day you defeated Lord Voldemort. The dark detector seems to have drifted into the negative end of the scale. You're almost angelic, according to my calculations. Most odd.
"Tell me everything, please."
Two hours later, Croaker and Dumbledore had listened and then had asked their questions. Dumbledore was more than slightly interested that Harry had destroyed an ancient vampire as well as its two mates. Then Croaker mentioned that the pair had taken down two truly ancient vampires from an ancient South-American tomb.
Dumbledore shuddered. "So, you were potential vampire hunters before … turning. Most odd. And considering what you told me of your adventure at the end of your fifth year … the gateway …"
Croaker's ears pricked, so the couple recounted their experiences immediately prior to Tom Riddle's defeat.
"Very strange. That gateway has been in the department for many years. You are the first to have seen it, well, active. It seems as though you are … fated?"
The pair nodded. Harry said, "It is getting early, and we need to be home before sunrise. I'd rather not risk being caught aboveground if I can help it, and we still don't know if our … lives … are stable yet, what our routine needs to be."
They said their goodbyes and left Croaker and Dumbledore talking. Walking across the grounds they snuggled together, observed by Minerva McGonagall who was standing at her window. She was suddenly aware that the pair had simply apparated before they reached the gates.
Well, the headmaster was on site, and he would be aware of any problems with the school's wards.
.
Arriving in their crypt, Hermione said, "I feel …tired."
Harry nodded. "Me too. I think …"
She nodded her understanding. "Night, 'Mione."
"Night Harry. Sleep tight."
"Sweet dreams…"
Harry closed and sealed the door to their apartment. They slipped into bed together, tired beyond belief and, snuggled up, they slept soundly until sunset.
.
When they woke, Hermione was hungry. The blood she drank merely took the edge off her need, so Harry told her to take what she needed from him. The blood-letting turned rapidly into a romp together.
After, they lay, tangled in each other's limbs.
"Harry, did I ever tell you that I love you?"
He smiled into her hair. "Yes, but don't stop telling me. And, while we're on the subject, I love you too, Hermione Jane."
She smiled and drifted on the edge of sleep.
"Harry, is this normal vampire behaviour?"
"Hmm, no, I don't believe so, but there again, we don't appear to be entirely vampire, do we?"
She giggled and lapped at a few drops of blood that she had missed next to his collar bone, initiating another round of love making.
.
"Sorry to disturb you both, but Croaker has flooed, asking to meet with you tonight at two, and there is a goblin, Mr Longaxe, at the door to see you."
"Evening Dobby, thanks. Would you show the goblin into our common room while we get showered and dressed please?"
"No problems, Hermione."
He popped out again.
.
The meeting with Longaxe went well. It seemed that Gringotts had a long tradition of catering to the needs of what he referred to as their specialist accounts customers – vampires and others for whom approaching the bank during their regular opening hours would be difficult, dangerous or outright suicide.
"Who but vampires would have this difficulty?"
The goblin smiled toothily. "You may be surprised. Gringotts in Greece handles the accounts of a number of Medusae, there are half-demons and even loong whose business we hold."
"Loong?"
Hermione looked at Harry. "Loong are Chinese dracoforms, but they are of very high intellect. The Oolong family, for example, are the foremost magical healers in China."
Harry's eyes grew wide. "It seems that I have much to learn, Obi-Wan."
The goblin laughed with the couple, and broached the matter in hand.
"Mr Potter, it has come to the attention of the Goblin Board of Affairs that you and your lady, Mrs Potter, have recently come into an inheritance of some considerable size."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other questioningly. "If you say so, Mr Longaxe, but I'm not sure that either of us are aware of anything?"
The goblin grinned disconcertingly. "I believe that you declared a magical vendetta against the vampire Chastelvan Savarin, also styling himself Vlad Tepes Drakuul, for the murder of your wife here, for whom I am pleased, death seems not to have proven a barrier to life.
"Under the ancient laws of vendetta, and lacking any living descendants his entire wealth comes now to yourself, less, of course, the usual finders' fee."
Harry blinked. "Tak percent, yes?"
The goblin nodded, pleased to hear this wizard use the correct goblin term for eleven. "Which puts us into a rather unenviable position. It seems that Savarin was extremely wealthy, even by vampire standards. He was what we call an acquisitive vampire. He killed for sport and annexed his victims' estates."
Hermione asked, "and you find that this is a problem in what way?"
The goblin looked embarrassed. "Speaking frankly, we do not believe that we have enough gold physically in our vault system to cover the transfer. Much of the gold in the banking system is tied up in investments through a system of promissory notes."
"How much of Savarin's wealth was tied up in promissory notes?"
"Almost a half."
"In terms of galleons?"
The goblin swallowed hard. "Nearly a hundred thousand … million."
Harry laughed, gaining a sharp look from Hermione and Longaxe.
"Mr Longaxe, what function do you suppose that kind of money serves in the real world, and I don't mean the world of investment?"
The goblin looked mystified. "It's gold, it is there to invest …"
"No, for an individual person, it's just a way of keeping score, to see how well you're doing. How much have Hermione and I spent from our family vault in the past five years?"
"About thirty thousand galleons, why?"
"And our income for the same period?"
"About forty thousand galleons."
"Assuming the same rate of outgoing, and no income from working, how long would a hundred million galleons last us?"
"Forever, the income from investments is more than your outgoings."
"So, if I were to give all but a hundred million galleons away, I would actually be no worse off in my lifestyle? Correct?"
The goblin nodded.
"So, I don't actually need the gold referred to by those promissory notes. That is gold that has been invested somewhere, yes?"
The goblin nodded.
"Right, so this is what you'll do. Negotiate those promissory notes to my account, taking the usual legal fees into consideration for deduction from those notes. Are any of those notes representing loans to individuals or specific organisations?"
The goblin nodded and brought out a list. It was long.
Harry marked about half of them.
"The notes marked with an x are to be cancelled, and offered to the original borrowers for redemption with a value of one knut each. I can afford to write off those debts, after all. The notes marked with a c are to be called in as they are now long overdue. I will accept whatever cash, investments, goods, chattels and property the individuals possess by way of closing payment.
"Everything else needs to be reviewed. Finally, what is the state of any loans outstanding taken out by St Mungo's?"
"I cannot …"
Harry cut him off. "Yes or no. They have significant loans?"
The goblin nodded. "Yes they do."
"Redeem the loans from these notes at one knut. How much is the gold shortfall now?"
"You have halved it."
The evening wore on and the accounts were settled, the goblin looking ever more nonplussed at the cavalier cancellation of debts and loans. His only consolation being that this new account holder was avoiding the terminal embarrassment of causing a run on the bank. Longaxe had not expected to see another dawn with the news he had brought.
Smiling to himself, he knew that heads would roll when he returned to Gringotts, since much of the problem was caused by mismanagement of the physical funds, and by excessive risk-taking.
After finalising their new banking arrangements they bade Longaxe goodnight.
"So, Love, let's see? We are now, apparently, the richest single family in Wizarding Europe, and possibly in muggle Europe too. What are we going to spend our money on?"
Hermione grinned toothily. "How about our own, private pig-farm and abbatoir? We could employ the Goyles and the Malfoys. I love the way you just ruined every major pureblood-agenda and Voldemort supporting family in the UK."
"I know you love me, but I never said I was nice … and I'm certainly no saint."
She giggled and they kissed. Their kissing gradually turned into something more intimate that they adjourned to their bedroom.
Toward the peak of their pleasure, they found themselves biting each other which pushed them over the edge. Afterward, they lay, a tangle of limbs and bodies, just basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"What did it say in the books about that?"
"It didn't, but there again, we're re-writing the books, I think."
"Hmm-mm!"
"Fancy a snack?"
Hermione nodded. "I could really murder a steak."
"Really? Fine, you're on. Eat in or out?"
"That restaurant around the corner?"
.
For the first time since being attacked, Hermione left the secure confines of the wizarding world.
The clientele wondered at the young couple eating the large, blue sirloin steaks. The couple were obviously very different from the usual customers. These two were dressed and groomed immaculately, and obviously extremely well heeled.
"You do realise that this is the first normal meal that you've eaten since waking, don't you?"
She smiled and nodded. "And I'm really enjoying it, too. Thank you Love."
The wine, a rich Hungarian red called Bull's Blood amused them immensely, but they found that the alcohol didn't seem to affect them at all. They finished their meal, not with a pudding, but a further savoury dish, this time a starter of lamb cooked in red wine.
The waiter raised an eyebrow. Harry explained that he and his wife were both unable to handle much sweet food. The waiter smiled and nodded.
In an undertone he said, "We have night walkers here often. We had heard rumours of a newly turned couple nearby."
Harry nodded almost imperceptibly as the waiter continued.
"There are some who would make sport if they could. We are close here. It is safer."
When Harry asked for the bill, there was a business card with a name and a mobile phone number.
Harry paid, and the owner spoke with them. "Night folk are welcome here since my daughter became one of you herself. If you are new turned, then you may need help and, dare I say it, protection?"
Hermione laughed musically. "You are aware of the rumours about Savarin?"
The proprietor blanched, nodding nervously. "it is not good to bandy such names about."
Harry smiled and Hermione went on, "The rumours are true. Savarin is dead and burned these last few days, in a mine in Scotland."
"You know this?"
Hermione nodded. "My husband killed him in revenge for his taking my life."
The man looked carefully. "But you aren't wearing … you breathe? Oh my gods, it's true."
"Pardon?"
"Forgive me. I will tell my daughter when she returns at dawn. Can I contact you?"
Harry scribbled a note on an order pad with his mobile telephone number.
"Please, only between nightfall and dawn."
.
As they left, they heard four sets of footsteps following them. Suddenly they were confronted by three youths brandishing knives.
An arm with a knife snaked around Hermione's neck. She smiled at Harry.
"Right, yer wallet, all yer money and yer girlfriend won't get hurt."
"A snack, would be nice before bed."
A blur of motion and the youth behind Harry was suddenly draped, unconscious, across the front of a car.
At the same time, Hermione had her attacker lifted by the throat. She let her fangs slide out.
"Aww …shiiiiiiiiiii …."
The scream dopplered into the distance, while the youth in Hermione's grip merely fainted. She dropped the unconscious yob.
Harry used a stabbing spell to make two shallow, though bloody puncture wounds over the boy's jugular vein as though he'd been bitten.
"It smells wrong, Harry."
"They've either been eating garlic and chilli or they've been using drugs. It wouldn't taste good, but food is food."
There was a thump and they turned to see the final punk unconscious behind them. Harry repeated the prank.
"That should tear their little gang apart."