Grey clouds loomed. Albus Dumbledore's face was a mixture of grim determination and clenched jaws. His beard was loosely hanging on his vest, and his hands clasped together in a thoughtful-like position displayed his seriousness. Harry merely smiled, as he took the seat in front of the Headmaster. In the corner, Fawkes squawked like a badly choked turkey, before disappearing in a cascade of flames to reappear on the man's shoulder. The Vampire merely hissed slightly at the sight of the fire-bird, mostly because of the fiery plumage than because of its 'reportedly' pureness of heart. No-one could be pure in the world.
No-one could remain pure in this world.
A slight movement of his head to the side, just as if he was distending his neck, had the phoenix squawk again and open her wings, before batting them close a moment later.
"She doesn't like me," he mocked. "I feel sad." He feigned removing an invisible tear. "What will I do now?"
"Mister Potter," Albus began calmly. "What have you done?"
"To whom?" he asked back. "And when?" he added as an afterthought.
"We are not playing games, Mister Potter. You have a debt to repay, a Life Debt. So what did you force Lillian to ingest?"
Harry brought up an eyebrow at that. "I beg your pardon?" he asked back —feigning ignorance always worked in getting the opposition on edge— as he carefully looked at his nails.
"Mister Potter!" Albus roared, his hands slamming on the desk. "You will tell me what you gave to your sister right now!"
"And how would I know what you're talking of, if I never did give something to my sister?" he replied calmly. "I mean, I didn't give her anything." The lie came out so easily he actually had to repress the urge to grin. Meanwhile, his mind was already dealing with the reason the Headmaster had called him on. Lillian clearly hadn't talked, and he doubted the old wizard himself would have actually seen something more than a mere him kissing his sister. The Headmaster couldn't be so explicit unless…
"Ah…I see." Harry smiled gently. "Severus is worried, isn't he?"
"Mister Potter, we are not discussing Severus' worries at the moment: we are—"
"The conjured blood," Harry replied, "that too was Severus' idea?" he smiled slightly wider, before making a light chuckle. "Come on, Headmaster…you can tell me."
Fawkes squawked once more, sharply this time. It sounded like chalkboard being the subject of a concerto of nails, grates and glass shards to his ears. He hissed once more to the phoenix. "Can't you keep that animal quiet?"
"Severus' did foresee the need to have a safety measure in place. He assured me it would still sustain you, but we are not discussing—"
"Thanks to that imbecile, I nearly killed my sister." He retorted sharply, his eyes narrowing as he managed to convey the necessary anger. "You should ask the Vampire rather than the man, for if he hasn't his facts straights he might just do the exact opposite of what he needs to do."
"If the Vampire was helpful rather than mysterious, then maybe I would." Albus replied.
"Conjured blood satiates me, but does not satiate my urge. The blood needs to be real: it cannot be called forth with magic. I was about to give in to my hunger, but thankfully I managed to get Miss Potter out of there in time."
"And what does that have—"
"I'm getting there," he replied sharply, interrupting the headmaster's words. "I thought it would be easier to grant her…a temporary boon, in case I did not manage to hold off my instincts long enough to get her out of the classroom. It should disappear within the day with no side-effects."
"But what did you give her?"
"Blood," Harry replied, mentally inserting in his checklist Severus Snape as a man to kill in the most drastic and painful way —possibly with the use of white phosphor, or maybe something inhuman like a mine. It could even be a fun thing: Severus entering the dungeon, billowing his cape, saying the words 'you dunder-' and going boom as he stepped on the mine. He would mentally scar whoever was among the class…but it would be worth it.
"Blood?"
"You knew it from the beginning, didn't you, Headmaster? So why are you feigning ignorance?" Harry quietly turned to gaze out of the window; the dark clouds looming in the sky seemed to be slowly condensing into a storm the more time passed.
"Mister Potter, have you done this to other students?"
"Why would I?" he retorted. "Headmaster…" he smiled, "I am a man of the world, you understand? As long as I get what I want, nobody has to be hurt."
"And maybe you should, maybe you should…but I can't help but hope you will see the light, Mister Potter."
"The light…it's nothing more than a bulb charged with the blood of the innocent and the sheep, Albus. You haven't seen what hides beneath the wall, what slowly rots its way through the floor, what slither and lurk its way up the stairs, what peers in through the crack of the door…" Harry moved his face forward slightly, pulling his arms together and clasping his hands. "You have no idea of what the darkness truly hides…pitiful fool. Voldemort is nothing more than a figurehead; you have no idea what true evil hides behind the smiles of your friends…and you will never know."
Harry took a deep breath, before standing up and turning to leave. "Trust me, Dumbledore…or maybe don't, I don't care. Know this however: you called me here and you alone can now claim the debt repaid. Until you do…everything that happens, everything that will happen…that will be your fault alone."
"Mister Potter! We aren't finished yet!" The door slammed shut in front of him as Harry turned around, his smile feral and his eyes narrowed.
"Yes we are, Headmaster! Be careful what you ask, for the answers will guide you to hell, whether you know or not, there are rules and there are laws you cannot even comprehend! Gellert wasn't a king, but a pawn! You are no hero of the light, but a Deus Ex Machina of someone grander! The strings that pull you pitiful puppets are a delight to watch unfold! Seeing them makes me shiver with desire! The desire to cut them, to chop them, to feast on your ideals, on your biased and incomplete knowledge and send it all in the depths of darkness where it belongs! So ask! Ask away, Dumbledore…but wonder and query…you are not the first to ask…so what happened to those before you!?" As Harry's face looked a mixture of pure ecstasy and delight, his half-crazed look and shivering skin making him look like a pianist who just finished a difficult son, Albus' own was ashen.
"What have they done to you, Harry?" the Headmaster whispered to himself, his eyes watery from sadness and grief. "What are you talking about?"
"A World of Darkness, Albus… A World of Darkness where you mean nothing, where Voldemort is nothing, where Gellert, the ministry, Fudge, the Girl-Who-Lived bullshit means nothing…a world where the highest grace…is death."
"You can go, Harry," Albus whispered. "Just…go and give your lessons, but do not harm anyone in the school Harry…or I will have to give you peace."
"I'm afraid that chance has been taken away years ago." Harry chuckled grimly. "All that remains now is nothing more than the taste of ashes and blood."
And then Harry turned and left, leaving behind a thoroughly shocked Dumbledore and a crying Fawkes. Such was the game of Theatrics after all. If the wizard tried to peek through the veil of the Masquerade, if he tried to remove a mask...then he would undoubtedly fail and be eaten whole.
It was because the man was Dumbledore that Harry was sure someone would be found. He didn't have to tell that to the old wizard however, and he had deftly dodged the bullet on the consequences of his actions. Maybe, once the man had calmed down, he would ask again. That time however he would be more prepared. He wasn't surprised when Susan met him outside of his classroom, her gaze hesitant and her hands twiddling together in embarrassment.
"Susan?"
"Har— Professor," she called him with a small smile, "I…well, I wanted to thank you for Neville, and…" her voice trailed off, as she blushed furiously and looked sideways.
"It's been a pleasure, Susan. Is there anything else?" he kindly asked, a smile already on his lips. The girl blushed and stammered a quick and meek no, before running away embarrassedly.
He merely smiled a bit more at such a display, before entering his class. The students remained quiet during the entire lesson, listening with rapt attention, or probably just tired from the late hour and asleep, as he spoke. Once the lesson was over, he collected his stuff and left for his office. He wasn't surprised to find it open, nor was he surprised to find Lillian in there. He was surprised to find her holding onto a stuffed stag toy.
"Miss Potter?" he asked as he saw her slightly jump. The girl looked at him with a slightly frightened gaze, holding the stuffed toy tightly.
"P-Professor…this is…this is Prongslet." The girl whispered, gently caressing the head of the stuffed toy. Harry raised an eyebrow. "I…I thought you'd like…you'd like having it, must be lonely during…during the day but if you don't want—"
He blinked. The girl was giving him a gift, seeking approval. This was really just like a Ghoul acting out of love. It was probably the twisted form of it, but just to verify it…he moved closer, and brought his right hand down to pat the girl's head. Lillian's entire body froze in fear for a moment, before slowly melting away as the girl closed her eyes and pushed her head closer to his hand.
He blinked again at that.
He had thought he had managed to scare the girl, before ghoulizing her. He hadn't thought about giving the Vitae to her through a kiss would hold these implications. It was the 'abused woman' relationship. He could probably slap her and break her nose, and she still would defend him. The girl actually began to purr lightly, mumbling in happiness.
He eyed the painting of the vampire on the wall. "Can you give us some privacy?"
The painting rolled his eyes and walked out, mumbling something about 'in my times…'
Harry reclined Lillian's head back, exposing her soft neck veins. He locked eyes with the girl, and then kissed her again, filling her mouth with a second dosage of blood. The blood filled her veins, and as her eyes locked into his, he smiled tenderly, before whispering the words of command.
"Don't scream."
A vampire's kiss was something that came out of a hedonist's wet dream. The Kiss gave an orgasm-like sensation of bliss and fulfilment as blood was drained out of the victim's body. The writhing mortal was forever tainted by the act, desiring more eventually if he was left with the memory of what had happened. A Giovanni however…
A Giovanni's Kiss was not pleasurable. It was their curse, the curse of their clan for the betrayal of Augustus to his sire…or maybe the curse of Cain himself to the blood of Cappadocius. The end result was the same: the kiss of a Giovanni was not pleasurable in the least…
It was hellish.
Lillian's eyes widened as she bucked under his grasp, the feeling of pure pain flaring through the girl's body as it tried to no avail to push him away. His vampire strength held her there, as he drank from her neck. That pain was the same he had felt in the last instants of his life. The same pain, the same horror, the same death…and yet he had come back to live again, as nothing more than the same beast that had killed him.
That feeling of pain…
It was indescribable. Iron rods slammed into a body's nerves, a thousands of Crucios and maybe even a scorching fire lit within the bones…those were nothing compared to the pain the Kiss of a Giovanni was. Yet Lillian, for all her struggling, didn't scream.
Then it was over, and with a quick lick, the twin holes on the side of her neck were closed. The girl panted hard, her face a mixture of sweat and pain as she fell on the ground exhausted.
Harry smiled as she patted the girl's head once more, before returning to his desk.
"You can keep your toy." I have mine after all. He eyed critically the girl as she stood up wobbling, before making her way outside. She'd recover her loss of blood within a few days, and until then his beast would be appeased.
He stood up, his work done.
Time would tell if everything would go as planned.
The next day, he woke up with the noise of someone rattling away the locks and chains of his office. He blearily stood up, closing his eyes for a moment as he brought his back against the wall in wait. His beast roared and grumbled, as the blood used to wake him went to waste. A minute later and Ron Weasley waltzed in with his wand ready to strike.
"I knew it!" he yelled, making him wince.
"Mister Weasley?" he asked calmly.
"You did something to Lillian, didn't you?" the Weasley asked. "She doesn't want to go to Hogsmeade today! She never refused going to Hogsmeade before!"
"RON!" the familiar voice of his sister soon came in, as she entered in a hurry after him. "Leave my brother alone!"
"Mister Weasley," Harry commented, bringing his right hand in front of his face. "I'm not in the mood for your childish behaviours. That will be fifty points from Gryffindor, and three months detention with Filch for trying to bully your way with a professor." He narrowed his eyes, a sneer on his face.
"I'm not going to stand here and let you dark monster—"
"Don't insult my brother!" Lillian's screech was soon met with the girl grasping Ron's robes and flinging him on the other side of the room. Harry brought up an eyebrow at that, slowly settling his beast who was already seeking to gut the red haired boy out. It was day-time, and so he was at his weakest.
Ron hit the wall with a loud thud, and fell on the ground like a lifeless puppet with the strings cut. He didn't remain there long however, as he slowly wobbled back up a few moments later.
"Ouch! Bloody hell Lillian, I'm trying to—"
"I don't want to go to Hogsmeade, Ron!" the girl screamed at him. "My parents died! There are people after me! How selfish would I be if I went!?"
To those words, Harry smiled as he slowly took a few steps to stand behind Lillian, putting his hands on the girl's shoulders. He gently half-closed his eyes, as he pleasantly said.
"Well done, Lillian. Well done." He then encircled the girl with his arms, letting his chin drop gently on the girl's hair. "You see, Mister Weasley? This is the difference between an adult and a kid. You have much to understand, but considering your age…I wonder if I should push for your expulsion too."
The boy sputtered, as he tried to reply to a rhetoric question.
"For this time, I will let you go," he remarked. "Try this pathetic stunt again however…and expulsion will be the last of your problems, Mister Weasley."
The boy nodded fretfully, as it darted out in fear. Harry returned to Lillian, who had instead now turned with a blush on her face to look at him.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "He shouldn't have—"
"It doesn't matter." Harry's reply was curt as the vampire stopped acting like a fond older brother and returned to his usual stern self. "You did well. How is your homework going?"
She winced, looking to the side and averting his gaze. "Fine," she pouted.
"Lillian."
"I…I haven't started it yet. Sunday is—"
"That is unacceptable," Harry said. "You will go back upstairs, take your homework and come down here once more." Her eyes lit up at the mention of spending time with him. "And I hope I make myself clear when I mean that I don't want you to skive off."
The girl nodded meekly, before running off in a hurry again.
She hadn't realized her use of his blood in lifting and flinging across the room the older boy, but after all he hadn't pointed it out. Ghouls were unluckily simple-minded unless directed. Since he hadn't actually made a Ghoul out of a finance Guru or someone smart enough to rival Einstein, he had to contend with that simple and hormonal mentality of a teenager.
He'd have to live through it for a while, at least until such a time as when the Life Debt would be paid. Then he would use the girl as a leverage for control in Great Britain…and if that failed, he'd bring her back to the Chez 'Arry to work as a waitress.
Everything was a resource just waiting to be used after all.
He cleaned his desk, leaving enough space for the two of them to comfortably work on it. The door swung open again, but this time it was Hermione who stepped in, rather than Ron.
"Miss Granger?" he asked, his hands crossed around his chest. "What can I do for you?"
"Professor," Hermione began hesitantly, "I'm sorry but…couldn't Lillian come with us to Hogsmeade? It might help her cope with what she's going through."
Harry shook his head.
"It is far more dangerous than you can imagine, outside of this castle, Miss Granger."
"But I can hold my own, and I wouldn't let Lillian out of my sights!" the girl then blushed at her own voice and lowered her gaze, "I'm sorry Professor, I shouldn't have yelled."
"If you call that yelling, Miss Granger, then you need to tell me what you think is whispering." Harry good-naturedly chuckled, before shaking his head slightly. "There is a misunderstanding however: Lillian doesn't want to go to Hogsmeade, and who am I to force her? She wishes understandably to spend time with her family, what little there remains."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, before the girl grimaced and nodded.
"I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"Now, enough of the sorry game," Harry said as he waved his right hand. "It is no-one's fault. I do not hide the fact that, even if she would want to go, I wouldn't let her: it's too dangerous."
"Yes, well, I…" a moment later, Lillian burst in the room carrying her school bag, and setting it down on Harry's desk with a huff.
"I'm here! I went as fast as I could brother, and…Hermione?"
"Lillian! Are you going to study with your brother today?"
"Well, yes!" Lillian chirped. "Harry insisted."
"Lillian," Hermione chided. "He's a professor."
Lillian merely pouted.
"But he's my brother, and we're not in class."
Hermione merely rolled her eyes, before turning to Harry and biting her lips, as if she wanted to ask a question. Harry merely nodded back to the girl, who took it as a grant to ask away.
"I have a study group going on with some of the younger years in Ravenclaw. We meet in the library and all, but sometimes we would like to peruse some of the Forbidden Sections books for extra credits…"
Harry smiled warmly.
Do ut Des. 'I give so that you may give'.
"Why not turn your study group into a study club, Miss Granger?" he clasped his hands together as he assumed a thoughtful pose. "You know, with a professor who could sign you the permission for the Forbidden Section."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "You would do that, Harry?"
"It's Professor Potter, Hermione!" Lillian suddenly said, mock-chastising the older girl by trying to imitate her tone.
"Oh, right! So—"
Harry just laughed; the sound propagated through his empty shell of a body that did not hold that emotion. He laughed because he believed that laughter was the logical solution. He laughed because being human meant this, and he subconsciously had to feign being human. An uncaring droning voice and a paralyzed face that didn't need to twitch or blink wasn't human.
"Of course, of course I'll do it." He smiled warmly again.
"Oh hell, should I write a chart of what we plan to do? Maybe a study progression line? I must look at the programs for all the years, since we're going to be a club we might have people from other years joining in and…" as Hermione began to gush and rant slightly about the club's working and what they would do, Harry merely nodded every now and then.
Things were looking up.
Of course, they came crashing down that very night, when he sat down at the staff table and was surprised to see Professor Snape not standing up to leave. He said nothing yet, but when the doors of the hall opened, he knew he should have.
A pale-blond haired man walked in with a silver walking cane, followed by another in a bowler hat. The look on the young Malfoy's face was one of pure relish at the sight of his father and the Prime Minister personally coming to Hogwarts, but to Harry they were nothing more than minor annoyances. The four Unspeakables following the two of them were instead quite the problem. Of those, he could count three who seemed to rile his own beast up, which meant that three out of four body-guards were in fact ghouls.
Judging by the mark of beast they emitted, it meant that the Prince of the district of London was a Gangrel or a Brujah, or maybe just someone with Animalism among its disciplines.
"Minister, Lord Malfoy, I was not warned of your arrival." Albus Dumbledore spoke standing up, his eyes eying with coldness the two. Of course to anyone not well versed in the art of studying one's own gestures, Albus was his usual jovial self with twinkling eyes. To him, he was like a tiger poised to strike, just like Severus' own face betrayed the small smirk that lasted only for a split second, before being replaced by a blank mask.
"Terribly sorry to intrude Albus," Cornelius said. "I was warned by Lord Malfoy of a dangerous creature teaching and, Merlin forbids, when I heard it was an Elder Vampire I just had to make sure he was in check."
"My name is Harry Potter," he narrowed his eyes on the bowler-wearing man. "And unless you wish to see just what an Elder Vampire is capable of when angered, you will address me with the same courtesy I give you, Mister Fudge." And then his beast roared.
And the three Unspeakables began to shake and sweat as they calmed their own 'gift' from their own lords. To the outside eye, this display of strength meant that he had apparently scared three Unspeakables, the strongest available wizards to the British Ministry.
"You are a foul beast then, to talk like that to your betters." Lucius Malfoy sneered as he held his cane.
"Shouldn't they place laws against having such a degree of blond hair? I believe you should clearly be considered inferior: your hair sickens me." Harry replied calmly. "Really, it must be such a shameful thing to watch the mirror in the morning with such horrendous hair."
"Careful what you say! I will not be dis—" as the man spoke, the wand came out of the walking cane and into the wizard's palm with speed, ready to strike probably.
"Oh?" Harry smiled gently. "Are you menacing me, Mister Malfoy? Should I assume you wish to wage war against me?"
"Gentlemen," Albus remarked. "We should continue this in my office."
"And why should we, Albus?" Harry said back. "I'm enjoying myself immensely, even though this foul creature with blond hair insists —in his inferiority of course— to be superior to me."
"Lord Malfoy is one of the most respected and noble members of the Wizengamot, Mister Potter," Fudge chipped in. "Your disrespect is un—"
"Why is the man talking?" Harry asked calmly the Unspeakables. "I mean, shouldn't he know he can't just butt in a conversation among others? Maybe I should add bowler wearing imbeciles to my list of inferior beings."
"Mister Potter! Control yourself!" Albus roar was soon deafened by the older Malfoy throwing the first spell at Harry. The curse hit dead-on, since Harry didn't even bother dodging it.
And nothing happened.
"A skin flailing curse? My, isn't that a dark spell." Harry purred as he slowly stood up.
"Gentlemen, this is a school…" Albus said as he stood up too.
"Dumbledore, this foul beast shouldn't be—"
"Albus, really, he's insulted me!"
"We should really go in my office."
"Dumbledore! You can't have an uncouth beast such as that teach! My son is scared out of his wits within his own room! The beast lurks the dungeons at night!"
"Really Albus, he has to be branded!"
"Do you know that I could actually kill you both and walk away scot-free?" Harry's calm words echoed through the hall, silencing even the murmurs from the students.
Cornelius was the first to blink and open his mouth to retort, but it was Lucius who understood and nearly snapped his cane as he did.
"Unspeakables! Arrest this man on—"
"We can't, sir." One of the Ghouls among the Unspeakables talked. "He's got ambassador's privileges."
Cornelius turned to gaze at the Unspeakable who had talked, and then back at Harry.
"But I never signed those!"
"The American Ambassador did, sir."
With those words, Harry merely nodded once with a small smile on his face.
"You see, bowler-hat, whereas poor and misguided lambs insult and curse with no grace at all, true men give only subtle menaces." Harry winked towards Malfoy.
"I would keep my eye on my finances, Lord Malfoy. There might be a crash sometimes in the future." Then Harry's gaze turned to the Prime Minister, "And Mister Fudge? You should start finding yourself another job. I doubt you will be re-elected."
Harry then calmly stood up, and turned to stare at the Headmaster.
"And, Albus? Maybe you should start looking into contacting Slughorn." With those words, he strolled out in the silence of the room.
The open mouths, the stares, the gazes of awe and dread mixed with those of surprise. Beneath it all however another foundation was laid, one far stronger than any of the other emotions pooled together: that of acknowledgment.
He had silenced both Malfoy and the Prime Minister, made three Unspeakables fear him and made a fool out of Albus to boot. He had done all that publicly, and the backslash would be absorbed by the Prince of London, who would be told by his Ghouls about the arrival of a Vampire older than the thirteenth Generation in Hogwarts.
Not knowing his blood potency, the Prince would undoubtedly play it safe, and considering the way he had acted without concern for both the Prime Minister and Lord Malfoy, it would simply mean he'd be valued as a low-generation member. Maybe he'd be considered a Seventh or Sixth generation.
It would be enough to be left alone, barring a formal invitation of course to attend court with the symbol of the Archons, and unless the Prince had a spy within the castle. Yet if the Prince had a spy in the castle, he wouldn't have sent three Ghoulized Unspeakables. One would have sufficed.
It was pretty clear that entering the castle of Hogwarts as a Vampire was an extremely rare feat, especially as a Vampire who could still reason and coldly keep his temper.
He'd use this, just like he'd use everything else.
Everything is a resource, just waiting to be profited from.
Truer words were never spoken.
Author's notes
Lower Generation Vampires are more 'close' to Cain, the first Vampire. Princes are the 'Kings' of Court. Ghouls can go around in the daylight of course. 'Everything is a resource, just waiting to be profited from' is what I believe a Giovanni would say (But also a Ventrue)
