Disclaimer: If ye know of Harry Potter, then ye know I don't own it- I'm male. Seemplz.

PANDORA

Harry left Old Man Joe's a very happy man. He'd gotten what he came for, plus some extra. Harry came back out of Knockturn Alley, ignored the other shops, and went straight out into muggle London, leaving Jupiter to hunt pigeons in Diagon Alley.

Harry knew that muggle London would be very confusing in its layout to anyone new- so he got a map before anything else. He prodded it with his wand, circling where was, and making sure he knew his way back. Then, he proceeded to wander. He exited the Leaky Cauldron onto Charing Cross Road, heading straight for the best bookshop he could find- Vernon was forever spouting how wide the variety of books was at Foyle's. He went in and proceeded to buy all books pertaining to forging weapons, carving wood, technology and its modern-day applications, a whole host of sci-fi books and graphic novels, and then the histories of most- if not all- countries on earth. Books on cultures, languages, and races. It was while he was browsing the fantasy section to see what muggles thought of magicals, when a presence caught his attention.

He couldn't quite describe it, but it felt similar to the vampiric runes on the Potter Ring. Subtly turning and leaning his back against the bookshelf, Harry casually scanned the room. A girl dressed in a long black coat with bright silver buckles and straps on was at the other end of the shop, between the elevator and the stairs. Her blouse looked like some kind of cross between a corset and lacy lingerie, which Harry found… interesting. She wore black boots, most likely combat boots, and white fishnet tights over skin-tight black jeans with arty rips in them. Her hair wasn't black like he'd expect from someone dressing like a goth, it was pure white. Harry flicked his eyes back to the book he was flicking through, and decided it was worth it. He turned his back to the girl, and then continued on to the clothes books. He looked around for books on how to make your own, with techniques and such. Once finished there, he went to the counter, and handed over the list of books he liked. The teller looked highly suspicious, as if Harry was likely to run off.

When Harry stood there, waiting and tapping his foot impatiently, the guy behind the desk called for help.

"If you put them in your back room, I'll make sure to take them all." Both of the shop assistants raised their eyebrows, there were nearly a thousand books all told! Harry nodded. The two started to shuttle bags of books into the staff room, which gradually filled right to the door. Harry followed them, and stayed when they left. When he was sure there was no one left, he cast a large Notice-Me-Not on the books and himself, which had the same effect of knocking out the camera in the room until he and the magic left.

Then, Harry pulled on of his special trunks out of his left pocket. Expanding it, he set about packing all of the books into one of the rooms. Best buy ever! Harry thought as he contemplated the unlimited rooms of each trunk. He'd sort the books into subject matter later, maybe make it a room for muggle stuff, and a room for magic stuff. He quickly finished organising his books, and he also took the liberty of storing his other purchases while he had somewhere private to do so.

Once finished, Harry packed the trunks back into his pocket, safe with the anti-pickpocket charms as they were. Harry took down the Notice-Me-Not charms, and quickly walked out the back way of the shop- he didn't want the assistants to remember his face too much. He could still faintly feel the presence he'd noticed earlier, but he paid it no mind.

Further down Charing Cross Road was a massive shopping centre, which Harry headed for next. He knew that he didn't particularly fit in with the crowds here. They kept on giving him weird looks about his scaled overcoat and black clothes. He wandered aimlessly for a little bit, absorbing the atmosphere. He was so glad that being cooped up as a child hadn't affected his mind- some people would be terrified of the noise and crowds, but Harry liked it. It reminded him of the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts- except there were more young mums. Harry spotted one shop which looked very good to start in. The window had several mannequins dressed in long coats, but these weren't just black- some were varying colours, and cloths. He popped his head in, and saw a massive variety of clothing- not just scene, but indie, formalwear, steampunk, even some from varying cultures. He continued into the shop, and started browsing the men's side of the long room. This was pretty much the first time he had free reign in what he bought- Madam Malkin's didn't count, as he was constrained by the close-minded wizarding styles.

In muggledom, you could do pretty much anything with your body, and the only people who would really care would be your parents. Even employers were OK, if things weren't taken too far. Harry smiled- he would have fun here, trying on different fashions, finding what fit and what clashed with himself.

Shortly into his visit, a shop assistant saw him browsing, and looking somewhat unsure of himself. She walked up, and said, "Can I help you, sir? Are you looking for anything in particular? By the way, I'm Kirsty!" Not really paying attention, Harry answered on autopilot. He didn't notice her not even glancing at the Potter Ring.

"I'm reinventing myself. I've never shopped like this in my life, and never for myself. I don't even know what I'm doing, just copying other people," He admitted. The assistant smiled at that. She'd get a massive commission out of this one. She could see his clothes were expensive, and tailored from what seemed to be a reptile's skin.

"Well then, I guess I should start by explaining these different styles? First, near the entrance, is what most people call the goth and emo styles. Basically, black, with bits of colours thrown in for the emo style. Slimmer clothes and more tight-fitting for emos, too. Straps, buckles, skulls, crosses, bones, all that stuff is generally in the gothic section, but people mix and match sometimes. Emos also have a typical non-conformity thing- so weird hair, kinda all over the place, normally long over the front, short in back. They can sometimes have eyeliner and lipstick that's deemed over-the-top, but each to their own, I say! Then there's steampunk, which is basically gothic, but toned down, and then mixed in with aristocratic attire and metal. You'll find pocket watches, bird skulls embedded with bits of this and that, and a lot of pinstripe trousers for the men. Leather shoes, sometimes with metal bits on them. For the ladies, there's a bit of fishnet tights in all these three, and some lace in the last one. And small top hats in steampunk, too, for some reason. Last in the non-conformity sections, is indie. Independent, basically. For the women, it's going to either be airy-fairy, or trousers and cardies. Big shirts, too. For the guys, some have ear stretchers, tattoos, and that, but mainly its band shirts and jeans, or thin t-shirts and chinos. So, what are we after, then?"

{{{A/N: I put this in here to describe the scene groups of England, to you charming foreigners ;) speaking of which, I am one too, to whatever!}}}

Harry stood there, suddenly realising his predicament- he knew nothing about clothes. He started to fidget, worried about a decision, when the assistant started laughing.

"You don't need to choose one and stick to it! It's all about non-conformity! Take what you like, and wear it, for God's sakes!"

"Oh! Well, then, I'll start at the door, and make my way back, yeah?" With that, Harry started to browse with an actual purpose. He picked out a loud of different trousers, shirts, jackets, coats, waistcoats, ties, shoes, hats, even some badges and patches and things to customise what he had. At the end of it, he was probably trying on half the shop/ male stock. He also grabbed some bags for storage and such. One thing interested him greatly, however- the leather bracers and such that were part of the steampunk display. One looked like your average leather bracer, but had brass cogs that turned. A small glass circle held a compass, too. He noted its design down, promising himself he'd make one later.

At the dressing room, he gradually made his way through the clothes, until he had refined his tastes to a smaller selection. He had kept vestiges of each style, with the non-conformity ringing true in his mind- he was Harry Potter, the only person to survive the Killing Curse- and he therefore decided to keep several wardrobes, pertaining to each style. He resolved to style his hair, instead of just having it tied back. He'd also see what kind of things a decent hairdresser could do, so he could do it later. He enjoyed these simple things, as unnecessary to his immortality as they were. Out of the things he kept, he wore the baggy black goth trousers with vivid green highlights and straps, the army surplus combat boots, the Guns 'n' Roses band shirt, and the long leather coat that fastened like a waistcoat at his torso, with golden chevrons on the shoulders. On his hands were linen wrappings up to his elbows, over-wrapped with ragged-edged leather bindings. The gloves were strangely comfortable, too. He gave a hefty tip to the assistant, Kirsty, for her amazing help and knowledge. Harry then picked up his bags, and left the shop.

Well, one down… how many left?! Harry thought smugly. He turned into a shoe shop, called JD Sports. He thought about all of the trainers and plimsolls that Dudley had ruined due to his weight. Harry smirked as he entered, and went straight to the men's section- he knew how a shoe shop worked, at least. The men's section was the one without high heels and pink.

He ended up buying four pairs of trainers, and one pair of plimsolls. The trainers themselves were in varying styles- One was a split two-toe pair like the Japanese ninja shoes he'd seen in Dudley's DVDs. He also bought some tabi socks to go with them. The next pair were green and gold hi-tops that he thought he could charm to have moving snakes on later. Another was the same, but scarlet and silver, for lions. The fourth pair were Barefoot FiveFingers- trainers that fitted the foot like a glove, with a sleeve for each toe. This protected the foot, but allowed maximum manoeuvrability. He planned on making these even better later.

Harry was very surprised that the shoes were so expensive, actually. Four pairs of shoes and some random colours of laces had come to nearly a five hundred pounds! Harry was happy that he had the money to cater to his needs. As he walked back out of the shoe shop, he still wore his combat boots- he'd look really weird in bright red and silver trainers in his current get-up. Next up was the clothing side of JD- he needed some clothes he could casually wear, along with things that were good for training in. He walked back out ten minutes later with another bag of jogging trousers, sport socks and various shirts ranging from basketball jerseys to string vests.

Finished with his sports side of the day, Harry decided to have lunch, after storing his purchases in his trunks. He headed to the top floor of the centre, and joined a queue into McDonald's. He studied the menu with haste- the queue was fast getting shorter. He decided on a large sweet chilli wrap, large chips, and milkshake. Three things he'd never had- but he had the appetite for it now. He quickly ordered and paid, and drank his milkshake while he waited for his food. It took maybe thirty seconds for his food to arrive. Thanking the person on the till, Harry went and sat down, chewing on a chip as he went. He ate slowly, knowing he had plenty of time until dinner. He looked around at all of the different people, and how… unconcerned they looked. They didn't know what was coming, and would surely break when it did. Harry grew more determined to stop Voldemort from reaching full power- these people didn't need the stress and heartache of a hidden war affecting them.

Harry suddenly tensed. That presence… I've felt it before! That girl, in Foyle's! Is she following me? Harry relaxed as fast as he'd tensed, going back to his food. He picked up his empty cup and walked to the bin, making sure to nonchalantly look around him as he did so. There. The girl in the black goth coat and white hair was near the exit. It was almost as if she was blocking it…

Harry stood tall, and reassembled his features into his own. He stared directly into the girl's eyes, and lightly brushed her mind with a probe. What he didn't expect was an ice-cold wall even preventing the probe from reaching her. His eyes widened in awe. She's a vampire! Only the undead have minds that guarded! He remembered a passage from a book- 'The undead have walls around their minds unto ice- their bodies are dead, and so are their minds. Beware the undead, for they are masters of the mind arts!

Harry knew for a fact that the author was anti-vampire- most people then were. So it stood to reason that he'd be wrong about their attributes, too. He also knew the term 'undead' was misleading- vampires had a pulse, just like humans. The girl started moving towards him, but in an interestingly non-threatening fashion- her hands were open, and she had a small smile signifying she wanted to talk. Just as well, seeing as I can't read her bloody mind…

The girl plopped down at his table, and helped herself to a chip. She was far too perky for a vampire, surely? Harry walked back to the table, completely unsure of what to do. He sat down opposite the girl, ready to start muggle fighting if it came to it.

"Mr. Potter, pleased to meet you." She extended her hand, and shook his own. She wasn't ice-cold as he'd expected, but slightly warmer than the average human. "I was not sure if I had seen you earlier, in that bookshop across the road… Changing your face at will is an impressive skill!" Harry hadn't noticed her eyes before. They were a sharp violet, much like a pure amethyst, that seemed like pools of colour. The colour swirled slightly, with small white strands of iris arching out from the centre.

Harry shook his head slightly, back into the here and now. "Thanks. It took a while, but I managed it. You are?"

"Pandora Caedis. I can guess you know what I am? I felt your probe, after all." Harry gave a small laugh, and then continued munching on his chips.

"Yeah, I thought you were a muggle to begin with. Latin, to do with blood. Can also mean assassin. I take it you're one of the Sanguinius Assassins? Of the Order?" Pandora looked suddenly afraid.

"How do you know that? Not even my sisters know of my connection to the Order!"

"There are books on vampire heraldry. I read a lot of them, and formed some educated guesses through the bigotry." Pandora's eyes widened. A wizard who didn't hate vampires? What?

"You- you know that I'm a vampire, a killer, someone who feasts on the life force of others to maintain their life? And you casually blow it off? I could kill everyone here, and you could do nothing about it," she whispered, cautious of eavesdropping muggles. She suddenly had a thought. Wasn't he supposed to be fifteen? He looked nearly twenty, with his muscles and serene laidback-ness.

"I've killed too, you know. Once. It doesn't take much. What I'm interested in, really, is what a pretty girl like you is doing following me. Any ideas?" Harry smirked at her, giving her a grin. He swiftly took a massive bite out of his rapidly cooling wrap, and watched her as her expressions flitted across her face. She really is quite pretty… He thought.

"I- What? I was told to contact you and give you something. Nothing else, human. Your lecherous minds have no place here!" He'd hit a nerve, he was sure.

"So… show me your package. Careful, now, we're in a public place!" Harry was fighting to maintain a straight face at Pandora's reaction.

"You- Urgh! My father wants you to know something. He wants you to know that the Lightning One may count on him and his, when the final battle comes. The package, human, is an item that was found in one of our safe houses. I believe you know of your ancestors, the Peverells? Well they had other descendants, from a different brother. My father has decided to pledge him and his to your cause, and as a sign of goodwill, we present the Gaunt Family Ring." In a swirl, Pandora retrieved a box from her black coat, one with a small gold hinge and clasp, and covered in black velvet. Harry was suddenly taken back three years, his time, to his dream of a ring hidden in a shack. The magic coming off of this ring was exactly the same!

Harry remembered a ring, in a hole underneath some rotten floorboards in an old shack. And bonds… to a soul, and to something… Else. He gently took the Ring, and its case from Pandora, asking,

"Did anyone touch this? Or try to wear it?" He wore a pained expression- the curse on this ring would be incredibly damaging to a vampire, let alone their bloodline… "The curse on this would cause a mortal man or woman to gradually shrivel up and die, but to a vampire… The bloodline would be cursed. Every person turned by the infected would have no mind, they would me a mindless monster!"

Pandora's eyes widened. "You can sense magic that well? And you know there's a curse on the Ring? We sensed it suddenly yesterday, and excavated the main room of the safe house. In it was a whole load of knick knacks, and this. We could feel the pain and death on it. Comes with being a creature of the night. No one touched it at all!" Harry sagged in his chair in relief- no mindless vampires running around stacking cars and thinking the sun will burn them.

"Good. Don't hand it to me here. Let's go somewhere else." Feeble flirting aside, Harry knew that something big would happen if he took the Ring in the middle of a public place. "I suggest that you take me somewhere private." Pandora looked slightly suspicious at this- he had been making innuendo all the time she'd been there. Then, she took his hand before he could snatch another chip, and apparated out.

A/N: This is my last regular update. From here on out, we enter murky territory. A far-off land called 'Year 14 in the local Sixth Form'. Unfortunately, this means less time to write, less time to publish, and less time to enjoy myself. Simply because I was a retard and didn't try hard enough in my exams. Well, shit.

Updates will be when and where I can- no more Friday afternoons, people!

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Inspirational Music of the Week: Erotic Robotic by Marmaduke Duke

Film of the Week: The Boy in Striped Pyjamas

Book of the Week: Eragon by Christopher Paolini