Disclaimer: My writing is worse than JK's. Obvs.

VAMPIRE DIARIES

As Harry made his way to the door back out into the corridor, and Pandora, he wondered what he'd gained from it besides two pieces of other-worldly armour. Was their appearance somehow connected to the Horcruxes? Would the others do the same, and crystallise into these pieces of armour? Admittedly, he did feel… different. There was no real way to describe it, except for a kind of energy that thrummed around him. Just before he opened the door, he felt himself grow weak.

Pandora had conjured a chair to sit on after the door had remained closed for nearly ten minutes. After twenty, her age-old patience began to wear thin. After thirty, she stood up, and reached for the doorknob.

"Owww!" The doorknob was hot! Pandora rubbed her hand against her coat, as she slowly saw it turn from white-hot to red, then to orange, yellow and finally the original bronze. Before she could walk back to the door, it opened slowly revealing Harry. He looked completely dog-tired, as if he was trying to stay awake.

"Hey Pandora. Guess I was wrong. No new powers." Harry stood blinking for a second, and then collapsed into Pandora's arms.

"Harry! Someone! Get me the healers!"

Jacques Delacour sat at his desk, waiting for Harry to return. Ragnok had contacted him earlier by owl concerning Harry's donning of the Potter Ring, and his raided bank vault. The essence of the letter had been that Ragnok himself was overseeing the investigation into Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley's abuse of Harry's vault. It had also reported Harry's cold-blooded murder of Lucius Malfoy. Something about attempting to use an Unforgiveable on Ragnok. Jacques wasn't particularly worried about that- Harry would use brutality and violence when it was needed, and it wasn't for him to interfere, really. But the introduction of Charlus Potter's Inheritance was another matter. The armband Jacques had given Harry hadn't been on his arm, which worried him. The armband was supposed to protect him, but it obviously hadn't made it through… He'd talk to Harry about it when he got back, just before supper.

Speaking of which, Dinky should have it ready in just under an hour- well over enough time to enjoy a fine cognac!

Severus Snape, professional Harry-hater, sat up from his bed in Hogwarts dungeons. He knew. He knew he'd been turned against Harry Potter from the start. He knew Dumbledore's subtle fingers had been in everyone's pie- but he thought he'd stay clear of his. Of course, he was wrong. You could never judge Albus Dumbledore right the first time. He sat back on his spartan bed, and contemplated his options. Pott- Harry may help him if he approached the boy… The boy had obviously not been at Number Four Privet Drive, so he must have run away. Perhaps if he sent an owl…? He needed to phrase it just right if he was to make sure Harry would know the authenticity of his story…

Pandora Caedis- Daughter of Adam and Eve, the first Precursor-Human hybrids- sat next to Harry's bed as he was gently laid down by her guards. She looked over his form as he was tucked in. If she'd known this would happen, she would have… She didn't know. She didn't know how this happened, how to fix it, anything about what was wrong. And seventy-seven thousand years was a long time to experience everything, and yet this was still something completely new. She was confused as to why he had reacted to the ring like this! If it was meant to drain those people dry- which it did- then why was he so lifeless? It made no sense. Pandora turned to Harry laying on the silken four-poster bed, and grasped his hand.

The contact brought with it an awareness of something. A reaction, chemical or otherwise, was occurring within Harry at that very moment. His magic was boiling to the point of overflow, and then becoming utterly still. His hand felt boiling hot, when suddenly a colossal shock of electricity lanced out from his arm, singeing her hand.

Pandora gasped, letting go after just an instant of contact. He had elemental powers? She needed to talk to someone close to him. Harry had mentioned Jacques Delacour- she would need to alert him to the state his ward was in- and the developments of the past hour.

Jacques Delacour sat at the head of the family dining table, an empty place to his right. He frowned slightly, hoping Harry was OK.

"Pan… Dora… Where do you… think you're going?" Harry croaked. The vampire whirled around, and hugged the man lying on the bed. He winced slightly, but his expression steadied quickly. He weakly wrapped his arms around the woman leaning over him, smelling for the first time the crisp scent of pine needles that clung to her. Harry breathed in deeply, as his arms gradually regained their previous strength.

"Ow, Harry! How are you this strong?! You shouldn't be able to give me a bear hug, even after being comatose for the last hour! Ow!" Harry sheepishly relaxed his grip, embarrassed at his moment of weakness- he hadn't had a truly comforting hug in his life- or at least not since his parents died.

"I'm… sorry, Pandora. Just… I like your smell, that's all. What happened to me to make me pass out like that? Did you slip me a roofie?" Harry tried a hint of his old self, to get a smile on that beautiful face. Pandora blushed prettily at Harry compliment- she wasn't wearing perfume, she naturally smelt like pine. He must have known that.

"No, I didn't hit you! You said 'No new powers' and then collapsed." Pandora hesitated. "Harry, I… felt something just before I stood up to write to your friend Jacques. I took your hand for all of a second, and I got this rush of raw magic, and power that reminded me of living off the earth with my parents and brothers. You… felt like a kettle, and then you shocked me!"

Harry raised his eyebrows. He hadn't… gotten an erection while she was leaning over him had he? He suddenly started to fret about what he'd done.

"No, not like that Harry! You literally shocked me! An arc of electricity hit my hand- here, take a look!" She showed him the already-healed burn, and the soot gathered around it.

"Oh, god! I'm sorr-"

"There's nothing to be sorry for! You weren't conscious, anyway."

"Why is it always me the weird stuff happens to? Why can't someone else be the lightning rod?" Harry grumbled about his lot in life for a small while, whilst Pandora looked on in humour.

"Harry- Jacques ought to know that you're ill, don't you think? Here, write him a letter, and someone will send it off for you."

The clock chimed seven o'clock, and Dinky popped in with the post. Some letters from his advisers on how to deal with the British 'claiming everything is fine' when the Dark Lord was clearly back, one from his sister in Malta, and another from-

The Sanguinius Assassins?!

But what would they want with him?

Jacques opened the letter, visibly slumping with relief when it was in Harry's hand. All was well, he was slightly ill, some random magic thing that he'd explain in person. Well, better than worrying, I suppose, Jacques thought.

Harry sat back and thought- this lightning thing. Maybe it could be useful against Voldemort- who expected a disarmed opponent to release bolts of death from his fingertips? Harry grinned, as he imagined frying Voldemort's reptilian face with bolts of variously coloured lightning.

He lay in the large bed he'd found himself in, and brought out a trunk to pass the time until he could stand without keeling over. Rooting through the piles of shopping, he came to his books. As good a time as any to organise these things… Harry thought. He opened the lid, and looked into the stack of books. Drawing his wand, Harry waved it in a small spiral, concentrating on the order he wanted them in- sci-fi, DIY, fantasy, and things like that. As the books rushed about to their appropriate places, he saw a brief flash of a book on modern-day forges. He quickly snatched it out of the trunk compartment, and left the books to their organising. It was time to start learning about how to re-forge his weapons into the best they could be.

Harry sat back in the silken bed flipping through the large hardback on forges. It really was interesting, the different ways cultures forged their steel. Japan was completely different to that of the Norse Vikings, for instance. If Harry could refine his conjuration skills, he could conjure all the materials he needed… But, with the amount of metal he'd taken from the Potter Vaults, he wouldn't have to for a while. He intended on customising the shield that had appeared in the Ritual Room, too. Possibly with the phoenix/ lightning coat of arms he'd been seeing for a while. Anyway, the types of steel you could get by changing things like the brick type, the temperature, even the carbon content of the resulting alloy were all amazing! He'd set up shop in the grounds of the Delacour Manor grounds, if Jacques let him. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea. Maybe he'd put his forge where the Room of True Self used to be.

There was a knock on the door, and a pale-skinned individual popped his head in.

"My Lord Potter, Drakul Lord Prometheus wishes to meet with you at your earliest convenience. He is interested in your adventures within his home. Shall I take you to him?" The man's pale skin and brittle hair betrayed him- he was a lesser vampire, one who could barely stand to be in the sun.

"Yes. Take a step outside, and I will get dressed."

Harry knew, that although he was technically a guest, the Drakul Lord of this fortress had not given him express permission to be here- and thus, he was not out of bounds as dinner. He needed to keep his wits about him, at least until he had visited Prometheus. He slowly dressed himself in his clothes, sticking as much as possible to a somewhat formal style. Then, he walked out to meet with Drakul Lord Prometheus.

"My Lord Prometheus, may I introduce my Lord Potter, heir of Charlus Potter, the Peverell, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff lines, and Mercia, Azkaban and Hogwarts." To Harry, he lightly whispered, "Be careful, Mr. Potter, he has a temper that changes like the wind, and brighter than the sun. Do not anger him, for your own… safety." With that, the minor vampire left the large hall.

At the far end, shrouded in darkness like a veil sat a large and impressive throne. Formed of fused bones and skulls, it radiated death more than Harry himself. The man sitting back into its embrace, however, took the prize. He was pale, as most vampires were, but he had not lost the colour of his hair, as his daughter had. His midnight-black locks hung heavy around his face, shadowing his eyes. His nose ran straight, a regal adornment, and his irises glowed bloody red through the gloom. They were fixed upon Harry across the mile-long hall, pinning him to the flagstones.

"So. The Lightning One has graced this hall with his presence at last. Seventy-five thousand years I have waited for you. And finally you come hither, wielding the wand made with my blood. Interesting. What say you, boy? What brings you to these shrouded halls, so far from your native land? Hmm?"

To be fair to Harry, the Drakul Lord- Adam himself- was intimidating as fuck. The weight of millennia coloured his voice, but he was not bored. Oh no. He was basking in his own shadow.

"My Lord… Prometheus. I was brought to this place as a favour- I needed help with a… ritual of sorts. It went well, hence my inheriting the Peverell Line. I regret to inform my Lord of his loss of stock- a necessary evil, I assure you. Your daughter brought me here, my Lord. I also find it interesting that my wand contains your blood. The First Vampire himself as a link to Darkness… It will serve me well, to use a popular phrase."

The man sat in silence. He rubbed his chin with his knuckle, slowly, until he waved Harry forwards.

"Come, boy. I swear I do not bite. Not my allies, at any rate." Harry walked forward, until he stood at the foot of the stairs to the throne. He noticed, hidden in the shadows, a colossal sword, forged of metal blacker than the man's hair, and sharper than sin.

"I was told, my Lord, that you had pledged your support against the Dark Lord. Is this truly so?" It grated on Harry to talk so formally, but a man such as Adam would likely broker no offense of station.

"Tis true, boy. My armies have long been laid to rest, but they shall rise once more. Already, the pretender has mobilised to gain the assistance of the vampire convocations. The werewolves will gladly fight for even a small increase in standing, and the giants and other magical creatures of this world will soon follow. At least he will not have a basilisk. You took care of the last one in existence, and procuring one would take far too long." The vampire Lord looked thoughtful.

"You released the horcrux inside you, did you not, boy? And the festering piece attached to your ring?"

"I did, my Lord." What of it?

"And what came of it?" So. He knew, then.

"Two pieces of ethereal armour. Two gauntlets, and a shield. Both made of some metal that I came across earlier."

"May I see them, Lord Potter?" Ah! He finally graces me with a name! Thought Harry. He retrieved the trunk he'd stored it in, and opened up the correct compartment. Then, he withdrew the two pieces of armour, and showed them to Adam.

"Ah, so it begins. This metal, this is Valyrian Adamantium. The indestructible counterpart of Valyrian Steel. Only the person this metal is bonded to can reshape it. I once heard of a man who chose to change his sword. He was forced to use a dragon's blood to heat it, and then the magma of the earth to shape it. If you seek the same thing, Lord Potter, I would do this in the far future, when you have experience with smithing. As it stands, I am sure that the Dark Lord's soul pieces with crystallise into other pieces of armour. I will send you help in finding these soul pieces in return for one thing."

Drakul Lord Prometheus stared down at Harry, his eyes glowing ever brighter in the continued gloom of the hall.

"Yes, my Lord? I'm not sure what I have that you could want, but…" Damn. I bet it's something weird or nasty… he thought.

"Kill me, Harry Potter. I have been too long on this earth. Hecate's curse will be undone this day, or I shall find another who is powerful enough. Merlin refused me. Charlus refused me. The Founders refused me. Even Grindelwald, the slimy meat sack. Will you? I will offer my sword as recompense, and my blood as payment. More wands of unsurpassed power, if that is your will. Kill me!"

Well, shit. I finally meet a nice girl, and then her father asks me to kill him. The problem is, he's got a good point. The poor sod's been living a half-life for over seventy-five millennia, in agony! He didn't particularly fancy being paid in the man's blood, but he knew that blood was important to a vampire. If he killed the vampire, would his legions of vampires and skeleton armies follow Harry's lead? Or Pandora's?

"My Lord- Adam. I think that we had best come to an accord. You, want death. I want life. I want to live my life to the full. Which means getting rid of Voldemort, and re-arranging the world as it is today. I say this. Once Voldemort is gone, I will strike you down. Until then, I would learn from you the secrets of the past. For now, however, I need to get back to my friend Jacques Delacour. He is probably worrying about me."

The vampire looked horrified at Harry's flippant use of his name. His name! It hadn't been uttered in so long! The boy had audacity, that was for certain. He would have the spirit to take on the world, and the prophecy, when the time came. He'd been spending time with his daughter. She was far too caught up in mortal affairs- take the Sanguinius Assassins, for instance.

"Very well. I can wait a fraction longer. Come here, boy, I would give you something."

Surprised, Harry climbed up the stairs to reach him, wondering at the strange turn his day hadn't stopped taking. Prometheus leant forwards in his throne, grasping Harry's right arm. He then grazed his teeth over Harry's wrist, before he could stop him. He didn't take any blood. Just allowed his pure venom to enter the boy's veins, unlike his wild, untamed bloodletting of Pandora.

Harry could feel fire coursing through his veins, an inferno that raged through his every muscle, until his heart beat faster in pace with the throbbing of the pain. His skin grew hotter, and he lost what little colour he already had. He could feel his teeth lengthening, and his powers grow. He could sense the darkness around him, giving him strength. How different to the tales he was told as a child. He didn't crave blood, just darkness. He found an enjoyment in the shadows, as young children did in the sun. He felt lighter, stronger and faster. But still himself. The old break in his arm cracked back into proper alignment, and his legs lost their slight fractures and so too did his cheekbones.

"What… What is this? Why? I was already going to be made immortal! Why did you do this?!" Harry cried.

"This is the best I can do for you, boy. You will thank me, in time. If I am still alive to receive your thanks. Now, take my sword. You will need it break the other horcruxes. Go. I seek silence once more."

With the massive sword in hand, Harry found himself thrust back to the room he'd slept in. Well, that was weird. And bloody painful! How am I going to hide this bloody massive sword?

A/N: Yeah, so I managed to get two chapters published today, to try and make up for the wait. LOLLAGE

Song of the Week: Give 'Em Hell Kid by My Chemical Romance

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