Top Harry Drabbles: Harry/Godric(True Blood)

Harry was 15 when he got the name on his wrist, amidst the dreams of Nagini and nightmares of Voldemort coming back to life. It appeared on the morning after his first detention with Umbridge, right as he was coming awake. He blinked awake to a burning sensation around his wrist, yelping at the abrupt pain.

"Mate? Harry?"

His heart beat so quickly, fast enough that it sounded like the only thing he could hear, as whatever was happening ran its' course. Sweat poured down his back and forehead as his nerves finally stopped flaring with pain and he blinked open his subconsciously closed eyes.

"Harry?"

"I'm… okay," Harry called out, sitting up and glancing down at his left wrist. "I think…"

"You think?"

Harry stared down at his wrist, the one that he held his wand in, and peered at the markings that had appeared. They were black markings, curvy and beautiful. The markings circled his wrist all the way and didn't look like anything he recognized though… They kind of looked like a language to him but the markings weren't any language he recognized. Perhaps Hermione would know what they were.

He traced them with his fingers, revealing smooth skin, and then opened the curtains on his bed, seeing Ron standing in front of them. "Have you ever seen this happen?"

He held up his hand and Ron's eyes widened as he peered at the markings.

"No. What… Was it a spell?"

"No. I just woke up."

Ron's eyes narrowed in confusion before he shook his head. "I don't think that's ever happened? I can ask Bill or Charlie but they've never… Hermione would know."

Harry nodded, swinging his legs off the bed and going to use the bathroom, glad that it was a Saturday.

"I have not been able to find a single thing about that marking," Hermione said, her eyes narrowed in irritation. It was a week later and their friend had spent all of her spare time in the library, trying to locate a reason or source for Harry's markings. "It's definitely a language. You were right about that but… why you have it on your arm… I just don't know."

"Have you tried getting rid of it?" Neville questioned, glancing over to them as he put food onto his plate for lunch.

"I asked Pomfrey and she said she knew of no way to remove it," Harry said, shrugging and taking a bite of food. "We're just looking up what it says because what if it's a curse or hex or something new from Voldemort that's going to kill me? Because it's me!"

Hermione and Ron stared at him before going pale.

"I hadn't thought about that," Hermione whispered. "But if it were that, wouldn't it have done something by now?"

"I don't know. There's nothing to compare it to!"

During Christmas break, he finally found a book that had the language that the markings were in. He brought the book with him to Grimmauld Place and took some time to look through it, a mug of hot chocolate on the table beside him.

Harry made a noise under his breath, flipping to the page number in the book he was looking through and feeling his heart beat quickly. He had finally found the language his markings were in, finally found a dictionary that had the exact language. It was in ancient Gaul, the language that people had spoken in Western Europe during the Iron Age before it had gotten invaded by the Romans.

There had been many Celtic tribes that had lived in the area during that time and the tribes had been slaughtered by Julius Caesar and his predecessors. Harry stared down at the markings on his left wrist, traced his thumb over them idly as he flipped through the pages. He wrote down each mark or inscription as he found the translation, noting that each part of the marking on his wrist were letters. G, O, D, R, I, C. Godric.

Harry stared down at the translation, short as it was, and then slouched deeper into his chair, lost in thought. Why did he have a marking on his wrist that spelled out Godric? Did it mean Godric Gryffindor or someone else? Godric Gryffindor was long dead so that probably wasn't it. Did it mean that whoever this other Godric was was connected to him? And him to Godric?

Or did it mean… Harry sighed. There were numerous possible meanings for the black marking on his wrist. Why him? Did Fate just like screwing with him? Here he was just a week after he had saved Arthur's life just because he had had a dream from Nagini's point of view and Voldemort was back.

Harry took a deep breath, sighing in relief as he looked down at Voldemort's body two years later. He rubbed his fingers over the name on his left wrist idly, wondering again where the Godric of the markings was. Everyone cheered around him and Ron and Hermione ran over towards him, smiles on their faces and in their eyes. Though there was more relief and exhaustion in them than in everyone else.

Later, much later, he would talk with them, tell them he was feeling… off, like he was missing something. Would tell them he had died at Voldemort's hands and come back. Two days later, he would go to Gringotts and withdraw every single gold and silver piece that was in his vault and other vaults that he owned.

Over the past two years, he had gotten into the habit of tracing the markings or rune letters on his wrist and had… gotten some comfort from it. Even if whoever it was was long dead. He wondered… A week later, one of the last Death Eaters spelled a killing curse towards him and he died, only to wake up several minutes later, not a hint of injury or bruise on him.

He woke up in an unfamiliar yard, the house in front of him even more unfamiliar. It was dark, the moon and the stars shining down on him brightly on a cloudless night. The air was slightly cool, if a little humid. His trunk was right next to him and he quickly peeked into it, looking at all of his belongings and money from Gringotts bank. Harry raised an eyebrow, remembering thinking of whoever Godric was in his last moment of drawing breath.

He was still breathing right now, his heart still beating and yet he was alive. Harry closed up his trunk, miniaturized it and tucked it in a pocket, the elder wand almost humming within his other pocket. His holly wand was tucked into his right hand and it sparked while the markings on his wrist seemed to glow silver in the moonlight.

He stood up, brushed off the dirt that had clung onto his jeans, and looked around, hearing voices through the open windows of the big manor in front of him. Harry started towards the manor, idly reaching out with his magic and finding multiple vampires. The beings that were in the manor all felt… dead to him, which was a new. Or perhaps it was due to having died just a few minutes ago.

As he grew closer to the manor, he saw a man just appear out of nowhere on the front porch of the home. The guy was… quite something, tall and handsome, pale and blonde. He almost looked like one of the Vikings Harry had seen in pictures in a few of the books he had flipped through, just in more modern and… revealing. Harry's heart skipped a beat and then started to race at the image of the guy in armor and a fur cloak. Definitely a vampire and definitely someone he wouldn't say no to.

As if the guy could hear him, he turned around, all graceful movements, to look at Harry, who raised an eyebrow. The man was on the front porch one minute and the next was right up in Harry's space, peering at him, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"And who would you be?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Harry said, looking the man in front of him over. He wasn't overly scared of a vampire, regardless of the man apparently being able to walk at an inhumanly fast speed. He had been more scared of Voldemort and his power though… Harry was now perhaps stronger than Voldemort, given his just dying a moment ago.

The man was looking at him like Harry was about to become dinner and then his eyes landed on the markings on Harry's wrist and stopped there. There was almost an imperceptible stillness to the man and then Harry was suddenly picked up and run with into the house, zooming past everyone else. It left no time for him to do something about being handled that way but he figured wherever he landed, he would be equipped to handle it.

"Put me the fuck-" Harry stopped mid exclamation as he gathered his bearings and stared at the vampire in the chair in front of him.

"Eric?"

The vampire behind him spoke in another language entirely, one he recognized from the book, but Harry wasn't paying attention to it. His world had narrowed to the vampire in front of him, to the young man who looked to be still in his teens. Harry himself was 18 and had grown out quite a bit since the beginning the war but he had the sense that this young man was much, much older than just a meager 16 or 17.

And… the markings on his wrist were warm, really glowing now. He glanced down at his left wrist, at his wand hand, and then over to the young man sitting in front of him.

"Godric?" Harry tried, his voice unintentionally shaky and his heart beating fast.

The young man's brown eyes narrowed, lighting up a little with interest. "Who… Harry?"

Harry nodded and the young man- Godric - jolted up, and took a step to close the distance between them. Harry looked Godric over, noting the short dark hair and brown eyes, the loose comfortable clothes, and the little hint of a tattoo on Godric's chest through the shirt.

"How… What are these markings on my wrist?" Harry finally questioned, slightly bearing his throat for Godric's perusal. He wasn't altogether too familiar with vampires but he knew enough from having Remus as a surrogate godfather. "How do you know my name?"

Godric's eyes narrowed before he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the tattoo that Harry had glimpsed and another, this one over Godric's heart. This one was in Latin and he had enough familiarity with Latin to know it was his own name. Harry's eyes widened and his hand reached out only for him to drop his arm by his side. Probably most vampires wouldn't like strangers just touching them willy-nilly.

"They are soulmarks," Godric spoke, his voice soft but firm and… awestruck. Godric said something in Swedish to the vampire behind Harry and he heard a soft whistle of air. Without having to look behind him, Harry knew… Eric was gone. "Many people have them in today's world."

"I…" Harry trailed off, as Godric stepped further into his space and leaned in, almost right at the crook of his neck. Godric's cool skin brushed against his as the vampire sniffed him, his nose right up against Harry's skin. Harry swallowed and inhaled deeply, picking up a quiet, coldness and elsewhere, the iron scent of blood. "I didn't know it was a soul mark. They're… We're soulmates then?"

Goosebumps prickled his skin and Godric made a low noise in his throat, halfway between a gasp and a groan. "Yes."

Godric stiffened and pulled away, took a step back. "I am a vampire. You are mortal."

Harry's eyes narrowed, pondering Godric's words, his soulmate's words. He closed his eyes at the thought and then reopened them. "How old are you?"

"I was made at 16 and that was 2,000 years ago. Most human children receive their mark at 15. How young are you?"

Harry blinked, staring at Godric in amazement. "I'm 18. You're 2,000 years old? Really? Seriously? You were young when you were made then. My surrogate godfather was young when he turned into a werewolf and he never adjusted. I'm sorry to hear about your origin."

"You are sorry?"

Godric looked at him curiously then peered at his left wrist, where his mark was. "May I?"

"Of course."

Harry watched as Godric reached for his hand, grasping it with his own. Godric's cool fingers traced the markings on his wrist and he raised Harry's hand to his nose, sniffing again.

"You do not stink of werewolf," Godric said, his lips brushing Harry's skin before he pulled away. "But you smell of… power."

"I…"

"Hold on to that thought?" Godric stared at him, that curious light still in his brown eyes, before racing off in a blur of speed. Harry tilted his head in confusion and followed Godric's ancient power signature, seeing his soulmate speed into the living room of the manor and with what looked like lightning fast speed, grasped the throat of a woman who looked to be in her early 30's.

"Retract your fangs."

Harry watched, enchanted, as the woman did just that with no arguments or complaints. There was another woman behind her, blond and younger and definitely human amongst the vampires. Now that Harry looked, the group of beings were mostly vampires, with a few humans.

Eric raced over to stand right next to Godric, looming over the two women, ready for anything. Another man, a vampire, hurried over to the younger, human woman's side, wrapping her up in his arms.

"I neither know or care who you are. In this area and in this home, I am the authority. Do you understand?" Godric questioned, still holding onto the woman's throat.

The woman nodded, staring at Godric. Her eyes were slightly wide and Harry could see that it was in fear, her shoulders drawn in, and her body so frozen. Godric released her, dropping his arm back to his side, every movement graceful.

"This woman has proved herself a friend to us and you were about to treat her as a child does a dragonfly. Picking off wings for sport. No wonder they hate us," Godric said, in a tone that sounded to Harry like he was scolding a much younger person even though he looked younger than the woman. Godric was definitely someone to listen to though and Harry imagined him living for 2,000 years as a vampire. Godric would definitely have stories to tell.

"She provoked me," The woman muttered.

"You provoked me," Godric pointed out, staring at the woman, a hint of a threat in his voice. "You disrupted the peace in my home. I could snap you like a twig."

Godric turned to look at Harry after Eric's friend had escorted the vampire woman out, expecting his soulmate to have disappeared or to have not existed in the first place. But Harry was still there, still smelling of that foreign power that Godric had never smelled before. He raced back to look Harry over, taking in every feature of his… soulmate.

He had waited for 2,000 years for his soulmate to show up. Had received his mark when he had turned 15, the day after he had been taken by the Roman slavers. And now…

"Are you… leader or something of these vampires?"

"Sheriff. Who are you?"

"I…" Harry trailed off, his eyes widening a little. Godric could hear his heart beating, steady and loud, but not fast, not racing in fear. The scar on his forehead intrigued him, made him want to reach out to touch it but Harry wasn't his yet, regardless of their soul marks. "Is there… magic in this world?"

"Magic? Is that what you smell of?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, nodded. "I'm a wizard. I…"

"Excuse me, everyone."

Godric turned around, seeing Isobel walk towards him and Eric in the corner across the hallway. He looked around for the man who had spoken and found a younger human man, a tight jacket on his torso. Harry stepped up to stand beside Godric, eying the man also.

"Everyone, excuse me."

The vampires and humans in the home all stopped talking and turned to the young man.

"I bring a gift to you from Steve Newlin and the Fellowship of the Sun."

"Luke…" Jason Stackhouse trailed off at the other young man's glare, took a step back.

The young man unzipped his jacket, revealing a combination of silver nails and various other silver and wooden implements all wrapped together with a silver chain. Godric could hear Harry's heart begin to race then his soulmate stepped forward, making a motion with his fingers.

"Harry."

"He's got a bomb," Harry muttered, power flowing around him now in a great flood. Cool power flowed from Harry through the room, zooming towards the man and wrapping around him. A blue shining light encompassed the man and seemed to slide between the man and the makeshift bomb, separating the two. Godric watched as a thin piece of wood slid itself into Harry's left palm, the hand that had Godric's name written in soul ink.

Silence filled the big living room as everyone turned to stare at Harry, ignoring the guy with the bomb. Godric grinned, the knowledge that his newfound mate could protect himself filling him with pride. The bomb disappeared with a soft chime and the man was just left standing there, amongst many angry vampires.

The quiet twang of an arrow being released filled the air and Godric immediately moved in front of Harry, looking towards the suddenly shattered windows. He distantly felt pain spreading from his waist up and his fangs dropped down, along with the fangs of every other vampire in the home.

"Godric!" Eric yelled, racing over to him as Godric's feet buckled. Arms caught him and he looked up into Harry's worried green eyes.

"I'm fine, Eric. Go get the humans. Bring them to me."

"Bullshit," Harry muttered, as they both watched as Eric zoomed after the crossbow wielding humans. "You need blood and I'll remove the arrow."

"I am fine," Godric repeated, as Harry lowered him down to the chair nearest them. Harry's warm arms surrounded him and his human soulmate knelt in front of him, looking down at the arrow protruding from Godric's waist.

"Godric, you are not fine," Harry echoed, crossing his arms. "I know healing magic but-"

"I don't need-"

Harry glared at him and Godric frowned, unsure why the human in front of him cared. "I am taking that arrow out and giving you some blood."

"I do not need your blood," Godric remarked. "I am old."

"I am not losing my soulmate when I just found him!" Harry retorted, yanking the arrow out quickly enough that Godric didn't feel it. "I didn't even know I had a soulmate, Godric!"

Godric stared at Harry, blinked once as Harry palmed the thin piece of wood again, pointed it at his wrist and whispered something under his breath. The scent of blood filled the space and Godric was drawn to Harry's right wrist, the skin that had just been cut open, blood sluggishly pouring out of it. Harry held it up and raised an eyebrow.

"Godric…"

He peered at Eric, who had returned and was holding the two culprits in each arm. "My childe…"

"If he is your soulmate…" Eric trailed off, setting the two men down.

"Go to Hotel Carmilla. Tell Isobel and have them raise their security," Godric suggested, his eyes caught on Harry and the blood dripping from his wrist.

"The humans?"

"I'll deal with them," Harry said, gesturing with his hand behind him. Magic once again flowed from him and Godric saw the two humans freeze, a red light covering them then sinking into their bodies. "They're fine for now."

Eric dipped his head in a nod and then zoomed off to go tell Isobel his orders.

Harry's wrist was still dripping blood in front of him as the house quickly emptied out. "Godric?"

He slipped off the chair as soon as every vampire and human had left and stared right into Harry's almost glowing green eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Godric reached out to bring Harry's wrist to his mouth, his fangs still down, and licked up the few drops that were just about to fall. The blood dripped down his mouth and he groaned at the taste of power and energy and life. It almost tasted like how Sookie smelled but far greater.

Godric heard Harry groaning as he slipped his fangs into the cut, sucking up the blood. The richness of the blood filled his body and healed the wound from the silver crossbow arrow and slacked his thirst very well. He heard Harry's heart beat slow and he took one more deep swallow and then pulled away, licking the wound and watching it close.

Harry blinked at him then reached into a pocket to pull out a vial of some dark liquid. Godric watched as he drank all of the liquid in it and color returned almost immediately to Harry's skin. His heart sped back up to a normal speed and Godric let out a deep sigh, feeling the powerful blood flow through his body.

An arm curled around his waist and pulled, leaving them to lean against each other's foreheads. Godric could tell that Harry was slouching a little in order to stay like this but he did not care.

"Sorry about leaving you alone for 2,000 years," Harry whispered, his heart skipping a beat loud enough that Godric heard it.

"You came. That is enough for me."

Harry grinned. "Besides, I think I just traveled between dimensions and I don't want to be alone."

Godric blinked and pulled away a little, looking at Harry curiously. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means I was in my home… dimension before I-" Harry stopped mid sentence, his lips twitching up into a small, exasperated smile. "I'm not mortal anymore by the way. But where I was… There were not a lot of vampires and they certainly weren't out of the coffin, so to speak."

"A human who is not mortal. I wish to learn of your history," Godric remarked, standing up and pulling Harry up with him.

"It's certainly going to be a lot shorter than yours," Harry said, a teasing grin on his face.

Godric let out a quiet laugh. "We have time."

"Yes, we do."