DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Two - Dreary Dungeons
Harry trailed Albus Dumbledore up the dark stairwell, his pupils dilating and adjusting his vision within a heart's beat of entering the shadows. He rumbled softly as sparks and small bursts of magic flared along the walls, blinding him momentarily. Blinking away the white stars, he bit down the hiss that threatened to escape him and shook his head. A glance at the second vial hanging upon his wrist showed no change in the potion inside; the liquid still a soft green.
Breathing slowly, he sorted carefully through the various smells flowing into his lungs. He ran his tongue over his lips at the overly sweet taste of pure magic, the smell dissolving in his mouth like cotton candy. Pushing down the moan of delight that rose within his throat, he flicked his eyes to the wizard walking ahead of him.
Not a single trace of dark magic stained the wizard's aura, it was uncanny really. Demons were attracted to power. They fed upon it. Influenced their chosen prey to commit heinous crimes and sully their auras just for amusement. Yet the obviously powerful wizard before him fairly glowed with goodness, his aura shining a happy yellow. It was enough to make Harry gag.
"Just a little further." Albus Dumbledore called jovially over his shoulder. The sudden appearance of one of the castle's ghosts had him smiling and halting, preparing to make a quick introduction. However, as soon as the ghost laid eyes on the raven-haired boy it let out a panicked cry and shot back through the floor it had originally floated through. "Well, that was strange."
Harry smiled sweetly and shrugged his shoulders, inhaling deeply as he passed over the stone the ghost had vanished through. "You're not worth my time," he breathed. He was a hunter of demons, not a chaser of confused souls.
Ahead of him Albus had stopped, his soft whisper audible to the raven-haired demon's sensitive ears. Sherbert Lemons. Tucking away that little tidbit, Harry stepped onto one of the shifting steps and rode it upwards. He froze at the top of the stairs, peering into the brightly lit office. Bracing himself, he slid into the large room and glared warily around.
Things were piled everywhere, all of them seeming to glow under the candlelight. Pressing down the urge to shield his eyes with one of his hands, he slunk further into the room and halted. Dozens of seemingly insignificant pieces of metal whirled and chirped merrily. Portraits on the walls stared at him with interest, whispering amongst themselves as he prowled cautiously forward. A sudden burst of noise brought him to a stop, sending his eyes searching for the source.
Tipping his head at the high pitched whining, Harry turned slowly on the balls of his feet and stared at the clanking piece of metal. An amused smile crossed his lips as he glided forward and placed a hand atop the little device. "It's been a long time since I've encountered one of these," he murmured. His eyes lifted to meet the startled blue orbs staring at him in a combination of fear and fascination. Shaking his head, he sent a thread of magic into the Demon Detector and silenced it.
"You're a demon." Albus stated, drawing his wand and placing it calmly upon the desk in front of him.
"I am," replied Harry, walking quietly toward the old wizard. He seated himself carefully in one of the adjacent chairs, arranging the white cloak around his body. The metal of his silver wristband bumped against the arm of the chair, clattering loudly in the lingering silence.
"Why have you come to my school?" Rasped Albus, clasping his hands together and resting them on the desk inches away from his wand.
Harry recognized the threat and bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I seek someone. A member of my extended family, one might say." He slid his left hand free of the snowy garment and looked at the tattoo drawn upon his skin. A black ring had taken the place of the circle, one side appearing slightly wider than the other.
"And you think they're within the walls of Hogwarts? I can assure you, Harry, that none of my students are demons, and my faculty has been with me for many years." Albus argued, rubbing his hands together. A soft crooning drew his gaze to the phoenix perched in the corner, its feathers shimmering copper and gold. Taking a deep breath, the old wizard frowned.
"One of my brethren was here before I; that is enough to make me believe the one I seek is close." Harry said softly, his emerald eyes sparking. "My kind . . . we don't make mistakes when we hunt. Once we have the scent, we track without error."
"Who is it you're looking for?" The headmaster queried, his curiosity chasing away the fear and worry that had been consuming him.
Harry's lips curved as he slid deeper into the red chair, interlacing his fingers beneath the cloak. "I'm not at liberty to say. Besides, I doubt you've ever met him."
"I know many people, my boy, perhaps I could assist you in finding this individual."
Harry tossed his head back and laughed, slapping his knee in amusement. "The fact that you're sitting here before me is testament enough that you've never encountered my cousin." Still chuckling softly, the raven-haired demon rose and began to pace silently back and forth. "I will not give you the details of my hunt. Instead, I'll ask your permission to stay within the walls of your castle while I search. Should you say no, I'll leave immediately."
Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought, observing the fluid way the young demon carried himself. "I will allow you to remain within my school, however, there are several rules you must abide by for the duration of your stay." He announced as he straightened in his chair and used one of his fingers to push his glasses up his nose. "None of my students are to be harmed. You are to use the utmost caution while searching for your . . ."
"Cousin," Harry supplied lightly.
"Cousin," Albus echoed, frowning as he glanced at Fawkes. The phoenix let out a barrage of soft notes, unfurling its wings under the old wizard's gaze. "You will have to attend classes and be sorted like a normal student would. I'm afraid that under these circumstances it would arouse suspicion if I were to deviate from the normal routine."
"I won't be here long enough for anyone to notice me." Harry murmured, eyelids dropping to half-mast. He stared at the wizard through sooty lashes, pushing down the shiver that raced up his spine. One month. For one month he would be away from the warm fires of hell, freezing his balls off as he chased a High Court demon around through the snow. Just the thought was enough to make him want to curl up in a ball and hide.
"None the less, you'll be placed within one of the four houses. Generally the Sorting Hat would be given the task of placing you but I shall give you the chance to choose your own house." Leaning back in his chair, Dumbledore rubbed his hands together and peered longingly at the fire blazing in the hearth. "The first house is Gryffindor. Students placed within this house are brave and daring with nerves of steel; they reside in one of the towers."
Harry shook his head at the description, brave and daring he was not. Not to mention the location of their dormitories was a complete put off. Still shaking his head, he tuned back into the old wizard's rambling speech in time to catch the word dungeons. "Sold." He bit out sharply, ignoring the visible flinch his voice caused.
"Pardon?" Dumbledore asked, glancing up from the book he had been pursuing to meet glowing emeralds. His mouth snapped shut and his lips firmed under the feral gaze, fingers aching to snatch his wand.
"I shall stay with the house dwelling in the dungeons." Harry calmly stated, ignoring any attempt at a protest. "My kind prefers the dark."
"Very well," Dumbledore grumbled. He plucked a quill from the pot of ink resting upon his desk and made a quick note in a large book. "The Slytherins are not the nicest of students; many have parents who dabble in the Dark Arts. Though I suppose that will assist you in finding what you seek."
"Don't worry about me, old man, I can take care of myself." Harry murmured, flexing his fingers.
"You'll need the proper books and several uniforms. I'll handle the expe-"
"No need," Harry said. His fingers flew over the silver wristband, picking out the little gold key that swung innocently back and forth. As soon as it had been removed from its place upon his wrist, it grew bigger. Bouncing the key upon his palm, he shot the wizard a thoughtful look before lightly tossing the piece of metal at him. "Number four hundred thirty-two at Valhalla Vaults. A last name won't be required."
Dumbledore stared at the key, his wide eyes focused on the slice of black stone set among the teeth. The shimmer of red that flowed freely through the stone startled him into dropping it, wincing as it clattered upon his desk. "All right." Shaking his head, he picked the key up and slid it into the front pocket of his robe. "I trust that you'll come to me if you have any problems or find that the Slytherin dormitories don't agree with you. Tomorrow morning you'll find all of your supplies in the trunk at the end of your bed."
Harry bowed deeply as he backed away, holding the folds of the cloak together. "I thank you for allowing me to remain here. If there's anything that I might assist you with, please feel free to call me."
Albus waved the comment off, his eyes shifting to the phoenix watching the exchange silently. "Fawkes will guide you to your dorm." The wizard flicked his fingers imperiously, the gesture sending the fiery bird into the air in an explosion of red feathers. "Sleep well, Harry."
Harry chuckled at the comment; his sleep was anything but gentle. "Before I leave, Albus Dumbledore, who is the greasy haired man who sits upon the dais within the dining hall?"
Blinking in confusion, Albus replayed the description before frowning. "Professor Severus Snape is a valuable member of my staff as well as your Head of House. He has taught Potions here for many years and deserves your respect."
"Good night, Headmaster." Harry called over his shoulder, ignoring the reprimand contained within the last sentence. He trotted down the stairs, emerald eyes immediately darting to the phoenix perched upon a bust of some famous dead wizard. "Lead on, bright fowl."
XxXxX
Harry could tell as soon as he arrived within the dungeons that they would suit him just fine. Dank, dark, and reeking of black magic. A smile twisted his face as he walked quietly along one of the walls, the phoenix watching him nervously from the opposite side of the hall. He froze in mid-step, fingers hovering over the sliver of a crack in the mortar of the wall. Hooking one of his nails in the crevice, he stretched his other arm out and searched diligently for the matching line running further down the wall.
"Got you," he mumbled as he found the fissure. Pressing the tips of his sharp nails into the brick, he pushed dark magic through the stones, overriding the password with a twist of his aura. He stepped back as the section of wall swung open, waiting patiently for it to stop sliding before walking gracefully into the large room.
Shocked eyes met his appearance, mouths falling open as he flowed into the room like water. Smiling sweetly, Harry looked the group over, enjoying the various expressions displayed upon their faces. Shock. Fear. Interest. Lust. He decided to make the most of the silence and drew upon his magic. As his aura rippled to life around him, he became aware of the sour smell of dark magic that flourished throughout the room.
"Good evening," he murmured politely, sending his aura seeking. His gaze slid around the room easily, nose working in tandem as he sought out the origins of the black magic. He couldn't help the arch of his eyebrows as it became apparent that everyone in the room was marked with streaks of dark magic.
"Who the hell are you?" The blonde witch sitting cross-legged atop one of the desks inquired, putting her little nose in the air when his gaze shifted to her.
Her aura was a light brown, streaks of black circling her heart and forearm liberally. "Harry, transfer student."
"You're melting." The witch snapped as she slid off the desk, her short skirt riding up. Tossing her hair angrily, she flounced past him in the direction of one of the halls, several other witches trailing quickly after her.
Harry glanced down and sighed as he realized he was standing in a puddle. A quick brush of his fingers along the length of his snow cloak had his cheeks reddening. Damn Hades! "So I am." He agreed, daring any to question him.
"Where'd you say you transferred from?" A blond wizard seated before the massive fireplace asked.
Tipping his head, Harry studied the wizard's aura. "Hell," he drawled, curving his lips into an amused smirk. Lifting a hand to his rumpled hair, he studied the rings of black that circled the pale crown atop the blond's head.
"Oh?" The blond responded, blue eyes widening innocently. "And how's the weather in Hell?"
"Perfect," Harry breathed. Running his gaze the length of the boy's body in appreciation.
"Is that where you came by this delicious tan?" One of the witch's cooed, mincing toward him and sliding a slender finger over his narrow wrist. Batting her eyelashes seductively, she attempted to tangle her fingers with his only to have him step back and give her a disgusted look.
"It is, though I must warn you to use the utmost caution while lying next to the fires of Hell. Get too close . . . and you'll be consumed by the flames." Harry purred, delighting in the red flush that swept the blond's delicate features. Arching an eyebrow, he carefully examined the students remaining in the spacious room.
To his extreme bewilderment, every student in the room was marked with dark magic and the residual touch of demon power. Someone had been very busy, he thought. Shaking his head, he observed each student's aura; carefully taking stock of the damage the rogue demon had left upon the young witches and wizards. Only a High Court demon could have done such a thing in such a short period of time.
Minor demons and imps would work away at a person's aura, tending the seed of darkness buried deep within their victim's heart for decades in order to get even half the reaction that a High Court demon could get in weeks. With more power and intelligence, High Court demons could influence mortals from a distance, subjecting them to nightmares and terrible bouts of depression with little more than a snap of their fingers.
The silence that fell upon the room had him drifting out of his reverie and peering about in question. He tilted his head when he found the blond watching him with a frown, pale eyebrows hitched. "I apologize. It's been a long day."
"Indeed." The dark-haired boy seated next to the blond said, slumping deeper into the chair he was comfortably situated in. "What year are you in?"
"I'm sixteen," Harry replied, waiting to see what reactions his response would garner.
"Sixth year." Dark-hair murmured, shooting the blushing blond a knowing look. "You're in our dorm, then. By the way, I'm Blaise and this is Draco." The dark-haired wizard stated, rising and gliding gracefully toward Harry.
"A pleasure to meet you, Blaise." Harry stated, extending his hand politely. He accepted the hand the wizard offered and shook it carefully.
"I'll show you to the sixth year dorm." Blaise mumbled, waiting for Draco to join them at one of the long halls before leading the way down the shadowed corridor. The room he turned into was lit by several small candles, their faint light making the room seem terribly dreary. "Your trunk hasn't arrived yet." Blaise remarked, halting next to the bed he had claimed the first year he had come to Hogwarts. He quickly checked to make sure his own trunk had arrived, unable to stop a relieved sigh from slipping past his lips when his eyes landed on the dark brown box.
"I have been assured it will arrive tomorrow morning." Harry muttered, pacing down the length of the room. Pausing when he came to the wall, he reached out and placed a cautious hand on the stone, sending his magic seeking. He barely suppressed the growl that rose in his throat when the castle's wards overwhelmed his senses. Yanking his palm back, he shook his hand and stuck his tongue out at the damp brick.
"What are you going to wear to bed?" Draco queried, drawing silk pajamas from one of his oversized trunks.
The chance to see the blond blush again was just too much for Harry to take. Turning slowly away from the wall, he reached up and placed his hand on the melting cloak's clasp. With a flick of his fingers, the garment fell to the floor, leaving him standing naked. "Why, nothing." Chuckling happily, he walked slowly toward the only bed without a trunk at the end and slipped slowly beneath the blankets. "Good night, Blaise, Draco." Closing his eyes, he listened to the two wizards get ready for bed before allowing himself to slip into an unconscious doze.
A/N: My thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!