Feel my Fangs
Chapter Three – Vampire Council
Lucius Malfoy woke up, his neck feeling strangely sore. He assumed it was a result of his falling asleep on the luxurious couch of his study. He got up to his feet, stretched his arms elegantly over his head and went in search of a proper breakfast.
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Harry's fifth victim was a French girl whose name was pronounced Mah-ree-Fran-ssoi-ze.
She was surprisingly docile in Harry's arm. She didn't put up a fuss, and for this reason, Harry liked her. He didn't drink more than he needed and much less than would discomfort her. He whispered, "forget" in her mind and sent her on her way.
Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sulked. It had been impossible to pinpoint the exact location of the Vampire Council.
Three days had already passed since he'd killed the Dursleys. Dumbledore was bound to, at the very least, have found out that he and the Dursleys had disappeared. Harry would have to be more careful and hide his tracks.
But Harry doubted that the Order or the Ministry would look for him in France. They'd search London and Diagon Alley before anywhere else. He was sure he had another week or two of leeway left before a massive hunt for the boy-who-lived would begin.
Harry sat down in the alleyway. He had no choice. He had to wait for the Vampire Council's minions to find him. He had an element of surprise though, he could do magic, unlike the rest of the vampire community. Still, Harry thought, his magic wouldn't be much of an edge if that vampire settlement back in the UK had blabbed.
He'd take his chances and let them find him. He needed answers.
He apparated to the Foret des Sangliers. He settled himself comfortably in the crook of a large tree and waited.
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After Harry had waited two days for an inexistent minion, he lost patience with the Vampire Council.
Screw them and their protocol. He'd find them and blast them to hell.
Two days of forced fasting had heightened his senses and so Harry went in search of a concentration of blood stench. Vampires had a distinct and unnatural smell that was a mixture of blood and hospital sterility. There was also the lack of the smell of pungent sweat that accompanied normal human settlements.
And in this way, Harry stalked his way around the immense Foret des Sangliers, sniffing, watching and listening for any indications of a vampire lair.
He'd found the first one on his own. The council might be more protected but they had yet to face a furious, starved Harry Potter yet.
It took him the better part of a week but in the end, Harry caught that distinctive vampire scent.
He was puzzled, however, as the odor came from behind a mountain. He looked for a hidden entrance and found none.
He circled the mountain several times before he discovered a well-hidden doorway. It was a magic curtain that gave the illusion of a solid piece of mountain.
You couldn't actually see the curtain unless you looked at it from an angle and then, you'd have to know what you were looking for. Harry had been lucky; he'd seen the slight shimmer of magical cover-up.
At this point, Harry was ravenous. He hadn't fed for almost a week in order to keep his senses sharp. He could smell the vampires. He just couldn't reach them.
Harry memorized the location of the doorway and apparated to the closest human settlement in order to find lunch.
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Bastien Lacroix, a bookish young man, was walking his nose in a book when another young man wearing glasses accosted him. The newcomer professed interest in Bastien's book entitled 'Les Théories en Physique du Nouveau Siecle.' Bastien was surprised to hear the other young man converse intelligently on the subject of recent theories complementary to Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Engrossed in their debate, Bastien did not realize he had been lured into an empty street until it was too late.
Bastien Lacroix was stupefied and became Harry Potter's sixth blood-donor. He was later transfigured into a bone and appropriated by a stray dog.
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Harry stood in front of the curtain of illusion.
"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered before he stepped through.
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The Vampire Council was in chaos. There was an intruder inside the citadel—the alleged impenetrable citadel.
"INTRUDER! INTRUDER!" yelled the vampire guards. "The curtain has been breached by an unidentified subject!"
Various alarms were going off in the citadel. The guards were arming themselves. The breach had been significant. There could be an incoming army!
The opposition could range from wizard slayers, unfriendly werewolves or even an enemy vampire clan. Soldiers were running into position, young vampires were gathering weapons and weaker ones were barricading doors.
The first line of defense had been the mountain illusion curtain. The second was the foot soldiers—vampires who attacked using their heightened speed, endurance and strength. The more powerful vampires were forming the third line of defense; they would unleash dark magical artifacts onto the intruder.
The council itself was tracing the path of the subject. The subject was moving rapidly towards the center of the citadel. The council was astounded; the subject was moving around the lines of defense, easily making its way through it.
What was it? Couldn't the vampires see it? It was blasting its way through magical wards, illusion curtains and solid walls.
Was it unstoppable?
The council could only sense that it was immensely powerful and its aura, dark orange. Realizing that nothing was stopping this intruder, the council prepared to defend themselves for the first time in two hundred years.
The last time the council had been put on the defensive had been when Sythe, the powerful council head himself, had breached the curtain! The council was shaken but holding themselves in a fight stance.
Twenty of the oldest vampires of the Themathien Clan waited anxiously for the subject to appear.
Seconds later, the wall was blasted open on the opposite side of the council room.
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Harry was furious with himself.
"Why didn't I think of just blasting my way through this goddammed mountain. I could've gotten in a long time ago! How could I have been so OBLIVIOUS?" he whined at the same time as his reducto hit a clay wall, creating a huge uneven hole.
He continued to make his way through the walls and the wards. He slipped around the soldiers. He was long gone by the time they turned their head around.
When he blasted through the final wall, he found himself facing twenty much-enraged vampires. Their hands were drawn in a attacking position, their back tense, and their eyes throwing daggers. They had been ready to fight to the death.
And then they saw him.
A teenage vampire, with messy hair and skewed eyeglasses, holding a much-used wand in his hand. He was scratching his head with his other hand.
They stared at him, flabbergasted.
He stared at them, disappointed. These relics were supposed to help him? They looked as if a blast of wind would finish them off. Harry sighed and stashed his wand back into his pocket.
"Well hi there, some old vampire told me to find you guys, said you could help me and all," Harry said tentatively. "You are the Vampire Council, right?"
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The Vampire Council of the Temathien Clan was having an emergency meeting.
All twenty of them were screaming themselves hoarse. They were trying to decide what to do with the intruder—the extremely powerful intruder. A magic-wielding vampire, the feat was unheard of.
"He is but a child compared to us!"
"But a dangerous one. Kill it or imprison it! He is a threat to our power!"
"There are twenty of us here. There are more outside. What could he do?"
"He breached the impenetrable citadel. He went passed a fortified vampire garrison. He slipped through the foot soldiers and the artificers! He broke into our council room! He's already done the impossible."
"You forget he has magic! Another impossible feat achieved. That alone should be enough to condemn him. He is not a true vampire!"
"Really, Harold, he is most interesting. Wouldn't you want to study him?"
"Study him, Paula? STUDY HIM! He'll kill us all before we can unhand him. He is a wizard! They have persecuted us for centuries!"
Many nodded at this.
"Harold is right!"
"You forget yourself, Harold. You were a wizard, once."
"Furthermore, the child is still part vampire. By our code of honor, we owe him an audience."
"He broke the code first, he blasted his way in didn't he? EH? EH?"
"Harold, please, calm down. He hasn't hurt anyone"
"He will, he will, I tell you. I don't trust him. He'll kill—"
"SILENCE!" roared Sythe. He put his hand up. That was how strong his personality was; the rest of the vampires stopped talking and looked at him expectantly.
"No one will kill anyone. I will not allow it. Alright, Harold?" Sythe said. "We will give the wizard child-vampire an audience. Let us hear what he has to say. And only then, will we make a decision. Understood? Good. Guards, let him in."