Divinity Forensis
By: RogueBHS
Chapter 2 - "When the Sun Goes Down"
Author Notes: The previous chapter didn't do so well in the reviews department, but the few I got were encouraging. So here's another. I do hope that it's up to par, and with any luck, longer than the previous two. No promises however. Also, there is a good deal of OOC on the part of the Underworld characters, I know, but I'm mainly using them for my own ends, not to be exact replicas of their movie-counterparts. The main thing I wanted from Underworld was the idea of a true immortal, and the other characters simply give me a way to cut down the number of original characters I have to use. I know everyone hates Mary sues and the like. LOL.
Harry is going to be speaking a bit weird in this chapter, but that's because if he talked normal, I really think people would pick up on who he is a lot sooner than they should. So please bear with me!
Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own any of the ideas or characters from Harry Potter or Underworld. There are original characters involved, in minor rolls, which I do own, as they are my own RPG characters that I created. I'm also borrowing (with permission) a friend of mine's male RPG characters, whom he owns.
Notice: Any songs or spells used in a chapter will be listed at the end of it, just as in "Faith." Numbers in parenthesis indicates a song, letters in parenthesis indicates spells or excerpts from the books.
Full Summary: Harry's summer at the Dursley's has never been worse; Vernon is drinking heavily and using him for a punching bag (again), and Petunia is acting like nothing is wrong. And the Order seems to have forgotten him completely, despite their claims at King's Cross Station. Can he survive the summer alone? Or will it take drastic measures to keep him alive?
Main characters: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin. From Underworld: Selene, Kraven, Viktor, Marcus, Amelia, Lucian, and Kahn.
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As Harry's third week in the lycan den drew to a close, Lucian felt that Harry's overall control over his transformation was good enough to warrant a night out. It was only a few more nights till full moon, but the boy would need to know how to hunt eventually. And hunting as a human, Lucian informed Harry, drew far less attention than a huge wolf-man walking around and tearing into innocents. Most would lie the blame at the door of vampires, if they believed in such a thing, or would choose to ignore the bite altogether, and make up some cause for the death. Harry didn't care for the idea of feasting on human blood, but in the middle of downtown London, finding livestock and such was not an easy feat. Rats might live there in abundance, but it would take over fifty of the rodents to quench a Lycan's thirst, and to catch that many would take more energy than it was worth. But Lucian assured Harry that finding a human who was already near death was easy enough, and illness mattered nothing, as there were no diseases that would survive in a werewolf's body. After all, it was a complex virus that sparked the entire change into a lycan or vampire, and those viruses killed any others that tried to enter the system.
So despite his own misgivings, Harry followed his sire through the town, entranced at the way he could sense the blood flowing in a mortal's veins. Everything was sharper, more brilliant now, through his lycan eyes, and the smells nearly knocked him back when he first stepped from the old underground station. Sounds, however, were even clearer. And the high pitched whine of car brakes going bad had him falling to his knees in pain until the car was four long blocks away. Lucian, who wasn't as particular about whom he killed, waved Harry into a muggle nightclub, telling him he'd join him shortly. Frowning, Harry walked to the door of the club, expecting to be denied entrance due to his age. Instead, the bouncer barely gave him a second look, and it took Harry a while to realize why. The bouncer was a lycan as well. Surprised, Harry turned back to the door, only to find that another bouncer had taken his place, this time a mortal. Sighing, he walked over to the bar, deciding to see exactly how much older he appeared to the rest of the world, and ordered a bottle of Bank's beer. The tender didn't question him, and instead, placed the bottle in front of him and turned to another customer. Smirking to himself, Harry looked at the bottle, remembering seeing his uncle drink a few of these. Well, guess its time to see what the fuss is about, eh Potter? He questioned himself, and then took a slow pull from the bottle. At first, the chilled ale tasted a bit like butterbeer, with its sweetly nutty flavor, but then he caught the slightest taste of the alcohol. Don't know why people think it's a big deal, he thought, Butterbeer probably has more alcohol than this stuff.
But despite that, he drank the beer slowly, eyeing the people in the room. Why Lucian would push him into a bar was beyond him, given the fact that he was on the lookout for people who would likely be dying anyway. Then, a metallic smell caught his notice. Copper. Blood. His green eyes focused on a dark corner of the room, and he found a woman nursing her date's hand, shards of broken glass littering the table. No…that's not it, he convinced himself, and the smell was far too strong…too close. So his eyes looked closer, and then he found the source of the smell. A male vampire was seated not too far away, his blonde hair gleaming in the lights of the club. In his lap, a young woman had her neck tilted to allow him access, and the vampire had his lips attached to her throat. The woman's mouth fell open in surprise, as she must have felt the teeth sinking into her skin, and the man drinking on her blood. Her blue eyes were taking on a glazed look the longer the man fed, but in her mouth, Harry noticed a pair of decidedly fake fangs. A make-believe vampire, he realized. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into. Before he even thought to go to the girl, a hand slid up his thigh seductively, drawing his attention to a woman who had seated herself next to him.
Her hair was black as his own, and hung to her shoulders in a sleek mass that his fingers suddenly itched to touch, while a pair of deep brown eyes watched him with amusement. "I don't think I've seen you here before," she said plainly, her hand still sliding itself along his leg. His eyes roved over her slowly, taking in the black silk tank top and black leather pants that hugged to a rather nice figure. She wasn't the best looking woman he'd ever seen, he knew, but there was a type of allure to her that screamed for his attention. Giving her a smile that didn't betray his race, he held out a hand to her, praying that the memories of Lucian dancing that he had wouldn't allow him to embarrass himself while he led her to the dance floor.
"And I didn't think about
All the ways I hurt you and myself
And I wouldn't say a thing to you
I keep it to myself in
My mind
And I can't stand without you
And I won't find the answers
When you're gone
But it's over to you
I can't find the answer when you're gone
And it's over to you
But you can't find the answer where you are
And you know I need you now
And this ain't easy to admit
But no one needs to know
What goes on behind
The door in my room
I'm kicking through the
Walls in my mind
And I can't stand without you
And I won't find the answers
When you're gone
But it's over to you
I can't find the answer when you're gone
And it's over to you
You can't find the answer where you are" (1)
And as the lyrics played, Harry danced with the girl, letting the music wash through him. There was something in the lyrics that sparked one of his own memories of a girl with cinnamon eyes and bushy brown hair that he couldn't think of the name of. A whisper of the name eluded him, and he frowned. Why was this girl haunting him? He'd thought of her more than once, but the more Lucian trained him, he less he remembered of his former life. So now whoever this girl was, whatever she had meant to him was little more than a flash of memory. His memories of before being turned were awash in those of Lucian's long life, leaving only these flashes of a scene for him. Lucian assured him that the memories of his own life would return with time, but something told Harry he didn't have nearly as much time as it might take.
Then, a scent washed over him, that of another vampire, and he realized this woman he was dancing with was the source of the scent. Hmm…that would be interesting, wouldn't it? He thought, only marginally aware of the fact she was eyeing his neck hungrily. Lycans and vampires have been fighting for ages, and if she's interested in me…Now there's a laugh, actually. A woman like her interested in a kid like me? I mean, no matter how you slice it, I'm still sixteen…I think. Damn it all, I hate not being able to remember my own life!
A light tug on his arm drew his attention from his thoughts, and back to the woman. Her slender hands were tugging him gently, trying to get him to follow her into the back area of the club, and he followed willingly. Once back there, she pushed open a door, leading him into an alleyway that was deserted. He smiled at her when she draped her arm around his waist, sliding a hand into his back pocket. A flash of memory appeared again, this time of a raven haired girl his own age, her eyes sparkling with laughter as he talked to her of something. But naturally, he couldn't figure out what. So rather than dwell on it again, he focused on the woman beside him, sliding his own arm around her, and letting his hand rest almost possessively on her hip. Something about this seemed off, he knew, namely the fact that she was getting so cozy with a werewolf like himself. But then again, perhaps she was one for breaking rules.
A slight tug from him had the girl's other hip tight against his own, and he looked down at her. "So what's your name, anyway?" he asked her, allowing a hint of a smile to show again.
"Selene," she said simply, speaking for only the second time since she sat beside him inside. As expected, her voice was clear and precise, and her fangs showed every so slightly as she spoke. Her eyes, which had been brown before, were slowly changing to a silver-blue that should have seemed very unusual. But on her, it somehow fit. "And yours?" She asked, stopping as they entered a darker part of the alley.
"Don't remember," he fibbed, not sure if the vampyres were supporting Voldemort or not. And if they were, then to tell her his identity would be like giving the vampires an automatic "in" with Voldemort. For the second she bit him, he was quite sure he'd die. Wait a sec, who's Voldemort? He asked himself, hating this whole memory loss thing.
Selene seemed to sense that he wasn't telling her the truth, but she didn't push matters. Instead, she shifted now and pressed her body to his as it had been while they danced. "Well, what do I call you then?"
He frowned, then remembered a nickname that seemed like it should mean a good deal to him. "Moony," he said, praying she wouldn't pick up on the werewolf reference.
"Moony?" she questioned, a slight frown marring her own expression. Slowly, she allowed the frown to dissipate, and a smile to cross her lips again. "Alright…Moony it is, then." Her hands, which had been hanging at her sides for the past few second, moved up, encircling his neck as she pressed him into the brick wall behind him. A thought occurred to her, and she raised an eyebrow. "How old are you anyway?"
He gave a shrug. "Don't remember that either."
It was obvious she didn't believe him. "Mm…Well, no matter I suppose. Not like you'll go tattling on me right?"
"For what?" he teased, sliding his own arms around her, allowing his hands to rest just above her ass.
She let out a laugh that seemed forced, and in the now neon blue eyes, he saw disdain and a deep-seated pain that he doubted she'd tell anyone about. But instead of giving him time to think about it, Selene pressed her lips against his, and proceeded to kiss him quite passionately. And no matter how angry it might make Lucian with him later, Harry returned the kiss, and allowed it to turn into another and another. Because the part of him that was still a teenage boy still was fighting for a sense of dominance, Harry removed his lips from hers and pressed his lips to her neck, again going by memories of Lucian's. Obviously he did something right though, as she returned the advance in things, pressing her own lips to his neck.
It was a good ten minutes later before Harry got a sensation those things were definitely off, but the sensation came far too late. Before he could warn her, Selene sunk her fangs deep into his jugular, only to pull back shortly after, the realization that he was a werewolf slamming into her at the taste of his blood. Her neon blue eyes were fearful of what she had done, and Harry knew why. For a werewolf to be bitten by a vampire meant death, and vise versa. And now, as his vision went black, the name of the brown eyed girl who had haunted him for days finally became clear…
…Hermione…
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…Hermione…
Her own name came like a whisper through her mind, said by a voice so familiar, she'd know it anywhere. Startled, she sat up in bed, grabbing a dressing gown from the foot of her bed as she scrambled out from under the covers and towards her door. She had no idea how or why, but she was more than certain Harry had called to her, that he needed her. Perhaps now more than ever, she realized, with no idea where the thought came from. Praying that an adult would still be awake, she hurried out of her room and down the stairs towards the kitchen, her bare feet making nary a sound on the wood floors. After what felt like ages, she reached the door she sought, and pushed it open, more than relieved to see Professor Dumbledore seated at the table.
"Professor," she said, moving forward and gaining the headmaster's unwavering attention. "I think something's wrong with Harry…"
Curious, Dumbledore held up a hand to keep Mrs. Weasley, who was also present, from speaking up. "And what makes you think that, if I might inquire?"
"I…" Hermione suddenly realized how silly what she had to say would sound, but fear of something happening to Harry kept her from saying it was nothing and returning to bed. But then the voice came again, Help me, Hermione… Then it faded, and for a moment, things went black. Driven by a new force, she met the aged wizard's eyes directly; fear consuming her at the idea that something was happening to Harry. "I heard him…in my head. And I know it sounds crazy, but I did, I know it. He didn't say anything but my name, but…I know something's wrong."
Dumbledore frowned lightly as he thought about what this could mean, and then nodded at Hermione. "I believe you, Miss Granger. Its simply a matter of how could he contact you in such a way…quite baffling given the fact that he's never shown tendencies toward having telepathic powers."
At Hermione's surprised look, Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh no, telepathy isn't just some ridiculous story, my dear. It is a very much uncommon power though, and more typical in races like vampires than those such as ourselves. But some wizards are blessed with the ability."
Taking the information in, Hermione frowned. "So…Harry could be telepathic?"
"It's an option to consider, if what you say about him contacting is true, which I have no doubt it is." He peered at her over his glasses. "After all, you're not known for lying about such serious matters."
There was something about the way he looked at her that had her wondering if he knew about the fact she had lied to keep Harry and Ron out of trouble more than once, including the Troll incident in first year, but now wasn't the time to dwell on such things. After all, Harry could be in trouble.
"Sir…Is there any way we can find him? I mean, it's been a month almost since he disappeared and still nothing…And now he's talking to me in my head? Its…its…odd."
Dumbledore sighed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the kitchen table just as Ron entered the room. The redhead looked at Hermione, then at the adults. "I couldn't sleep," he said simply, noticing the look his mother gave him for being out of bed at such an hour. "Haven't slept much this month, actually," he added, his blue eyes looking to Dumbledore. "Kind of hard to when my best mate's missing and all."
The room looked back to Dumbledore, fully expecting him to be able to tell them he'd find Harry soon, but such a thing didn't happen. Instead, the old wizard put his head in his hands for a moment, looking every last one of his over 150 years of age. When he lifted his head finally, his normally twinkling blue eyes were dull, causing those present to remember how human this man in front of them was.
"I wish I could say that we had an idea of Harry's location, Mr. Weasley,"
Dumbledore told Ron, his tone serious and tired. "But even with all of the tools at my disposal, and those the Ministry possesses there has been no sign of him."
Before Dumbledore could continue, Kingsley's head appeared in the fireplace of the kitchen. "Dumbledore, you need to get here right away," he said in a rush, and the sound of commotion was heavy behind him. "Its got to do with Potter…"
No further words were needed, as the old wizard disappeared immediately, followed shortly by Tonks and Mr. Weasley as their Ministry badges alerted them they were needed at work. Thus left to their own devices, the rest took a seat at the table, all thoughts of sleep banished from their minds. Instead, they all thought on the same thing or rather, the same person…Harry Potter.
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A sewer not far from the nightclub -
Drenched in stinking water, Harry doubled over as pain like nothing he could remember feeling shot through his body. This must be what dying is like, Harry thought grimly, and stumbled, falling face first into the water for what had to be the tenth time. The pain doubled, and Harry could hear the sound of his bones breaking and resetting themselves in a new position, very different from his werewolf form. But then the pain became too much, and he blacked out, again thinking the name of the brown-eyed girl. Help me, Hermione…he pleaded, and then faded into darkness.
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At the Ministry of Magic -
When Dumbledore, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley appeared at the ministry, Shacklebolt let them into a normally closed area of the building where records of the life and death of each and every wizard was recorded. Quills scribbled away on new sheets of parchment as a witch or wizard was born, and as one or two died. They walked past the desks where these quills wrote away, and to a larger desk at the back where two witches sat, compiling the information into books for the evening's data. When one of the witches saw the quartet heading their way, she pulled a sheet of parchment from the stack near her, and shoved it in their direction immediately, unsurprised when Shacklebolt snatched it up almost immediately.
"Here…" he said, handing the parchment to Dumbledore. The old wizard looked at the sheet in only mild interest at first, while Tonks and Arthur read over his shoulder. But when the three pairs of eyes reached the halfway mark, each had a very marked reaction to the news - Tonks, known for her clumsiness, stumbled back, hands clamped over her mouth in terror. Mr. Weasley was silent, his brown eyes wide as his hands started to shake noticeably, and his Ministry badge falling to the floor unnoticed. Dumbledore, however, simply closed his eyes, letting the parchment flutter out of his hands. When the normally twinkling blue eyes opened again, there was no real sign of life to them, aside from the tears that started to leak slowly from the corners. Even Shacklebolt, who had read the parchment only moments before flooing Dumbledore, finally allowed himself to grieve. The boy who lived had finally lost his luck…Harry Potter was dead.
Elsewhere in London, a brown-haired girl sat up in bed again, despite having just settled back down to sleep. And as a feeling washed over her, she let out an anguished cry.
"HARRY!"
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When Harry came to, he was back in the lycan den, and once again, Lucian was seated not too far away. His body felt as if nothing had happened, but memories of the vampire woman came back to him full force. Why am I not dead, he thought, and sat up slowly, realizing that he felt even better than he had before. Very odd, he realized, and looked to Lucian.
"What on earth happened to me?"
Lucian gave him a grim smile, and shook his head. "I'm not the person to ask, Harry." He glanced up, and the doctor came walking in, pulling off a pair of surgical gloves. "Instead, I'll leave it to my old friend here."
The doctor walked towards Harry, observing him closely, and then took Harry's chin in his hand and gave him a thorough once-over, then backed off. "Yes, yes…" he murmured, and gave Lucian a smirk. "You were correct in your analysis, Lucian. He is indeed the one we've been looking for."
"Pardon me," Harry interrupted, frowning. "But would you like to clue me in?"
"You do remember, in our history lessons, how I mentioned the fact that vampires and Lycans share a common ancestor, correct?"
Harry nodded, frowning. "Of course. Alexander Corvinus…12th century warlord. You said his descendants were all dead though."
The doctor smiled eerily, and gave a shrug. "It would assume we were right in thinking that the disease was passed on, the one that allowed Corvinus to survive as both vampire and lycan." He held up a vial that contained a blue/purple liquid that swirled without being stirred, and Harry stared at it.
"What is that?"
"Your blood," Lucian explained. "I'm not sure how, but you contain the same trait as Corvinus himself. None of his other ancestors were found to contain it, yet you do."
Harry frowned as a memory that he knew to be his own came forward. "A few years ago…four I guess…A basilisk managed to sink a fang into my arm," and Harry rubbed unconsciously at the spot. "There was a phoenix there…he…his tears healed the wound. And a doctor said that the mixture of tears and venom would help me later in life, because the basilisk venom would cancel out a good many potions, just like the phoenix tears."
Lucian and the doctor smiled broadly at this knowledge, and shared a look. "Well, then between that and your lycan and vampyre blood, there shall be no stopping you, I dare say."
Harry's eyes jerked up, meeting the doctor's. "What? Lycan AND vampyre blood?"
"Indeed. As I implied, you, my boy, are now a true immortal."
Harry was in awe of the idea, remembering what Lucian had told him about Corvinus' abilities. "You mean…I…I can…"
"Yes," Lucian said as he nodded. "Which is why I've contacted an eh…ally, that I have in the nearest vampyre coven. I've taught you all I can, and while you're always welcome here, its time you learned the ways of our cousins."
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Viktor's Mansion -
Harry's eyes adjusted easily to the dim lighting of the main throne chamber in the mansion of the vampires, and the man seated on the throne, he realized, was the same blonde male he had seen in the nightclub. A man moved from behind him, and Harry caught a glimpse of dark eyes and hair as long and dark as his own. Kraven, Harry remembered the vampyre Lucian was in contact with. And the woman, Selene, now stood on his other side, obviously to await some sort of punishment, though her expression didn't give anything away. It seemed that vampires were that way, he thought. They wanted those around them to think they were only capable of the darker emotion, and something like fear was to be as well hidden as possible. Granted, fear could be easily scented if one knew what it smelled like.
The blonde vampyre leaned his chin onto a hand as he studied Harry closely, and at a motion, Harry moved forward, bowing as Craven had instructed when he was in the center of the room. Another motion from the blonde had Harry rising from his bow, and moving to stand within feet of the throne, his head held high.
"Who are you?"
Harry's green eyes met the blue of this man directly. "Harry Potter, sir," he said, ignoring the gasp of Selene behind him.
"Harry Potter?" the vampyre questioned, the barest hint of surprise registering on his face before it could be subdued. "Then it is you that the Dark Lord wishes dead." A slow, rather evil smile worked its way onto his lips. "It would seem he got his wish, but not in the way he hoped."
"Indeed," Harry parried, unthinkingly quoting the Lycan doctor.
This lord of vampires rose, and Harry could sense Selene and Craven bow from behind him. "From what my senses tell me, you're a vampyre, but I smell a lycan in our midst as well. Can you explain that Mr. Potter?"
"Yes," Harry said, still meeting those unblinking blue eyes. "I am the source of the lycan scent and powers you feel and smell." The lord raised an eyebrow in silent question, and Harry continued. "I was originally bitten by the lycan, Lucian, nearly a month ago. He trained me himself in what he felt a lycan should know, and last night, he took me to a nightclub in search of a human meal. There, I met your eh...daughter? Selene. I'm certain she had no idea who I was, given the fact that my hair now covers my scar, and to tell the truth, my memories of my life before Lucian turning me were vague at best until last night. But regardless, we were interested in each other, and went for a walk outside of the club. You were there, I believe." He waited for the lord's nod, before picking up the conversation again.
"When we were far enough away from the club, we began kissing and necking. It wasn't until it was far too late than I realized she intended to bite me. And she did..." Harry pulled the collar of his shirt away to reveal the bite marks. "But instead of it killing me, I survived. Lucian believes me to be an indirect descendant of Alexander Corvinus...who I'm sure you know of, given that your fellow lord, Markus is his son." Smirking now, the blonde vampyre nodded again. "I'm not sure what happened, as I blacked out. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the Lycan den, and Lucian is telling me that I am to come here to continue training."
"That is a very interesting story, but if you indeed are the descendant of Corvinus, then that would imply that you allow for a perfect union of Lycan and Vampyre blood."
"That's what the doctor...a lycan, told me."
While circling Harry, the man spoke. "I will train you, as a death dealer would be trained." At Harry's look, he elaborated. "A death dealer is a vampyre who kills werewolves for a living. Surely Lucian told you of our war. I'd be disappointed if he didn't."
"That's why he trained me to begin with. He wants nothing to do with Voldemort, and so he felt that by helping me kill Voldemort, he would be free to continue his war with your kind. And perhaps allow Lycans more freedom, so they have the same rights as wizards do."
"That would certainly change the current standing, with us being the more advanced of the two races."
"If you don't mind, sir, I've still yet to hear your name."
Surprised though he was to be interrupted, the man smiled. "I am Viktor. That is all you need ever call me. Most of my kind call me 'lord,' but you are not really of my kind."
Harry smirked as he looked at Viktor. "Its a good thing you don't expect me to call you 'lord,' I must admit. I've never been a big fan of that title being given to anyone."
"I do hope you change your mind, because if Lucian is correct, and you are in fact a perfect blending of our species, then you, in fact, are a more powerful than either race by itself. That would make you our mutual king or lord."
Harry pondered this for a moment, then looked at Viktor. "I'll think about it, but for now, I need training, because I plan on returning to Hogwarts on September first."
Viktor smiled at this young man's eagerness, and headed towards the doors leading from the throne room. "In that case, let's begin."
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Another two weeks passed, and Harry was fast learning his limits, as well as his new powers. The addition of vampyre blood to the lycan blood meant that he could survive contact with silver and sunlight, the only true allergies of either species. And as such, that meant that killing him would be no easy feat for Voldemort to accomplish. Especially given the fact that, in all reality, he was technically already dead. His new powers included a further enhancement to his agility and speed, allowing him to move too fast for the normal human eye to see, and to actually climb walls or hang to ceilings like a bat or spider would. His height, which as a lycan had been pushed to 6'3 in human-like form, was now finally 6'5, and as tall as he was to go apparently. In his lycan form, however, when standing on only the balls of his feet as werewolves tend to do, he was an even more imposing 7'8. Though already severely lacking in the fat department, every last superficial muscle was clearly defined and visible, even under some clothing. His formerly pale skin was now imbued with the look of fine porcelain, until he fulfilled his thirst, at which point it regained a healthy glow like normal humans contain. And it was this, perhaps, that kept him from going too long without feeding.
That too, was different now, for vampires tended to use blood banks to feed their thirst these days, or fed on cattle when out in the country. So Harry could drink as much as he wanted, when he wanted, allowing him to retain the human glow for a full 36 hours or more if he drank every hour or two. In Viktor's mansion, luxury was the game they all played, and they played it well. Clothing was velvets, silks, satins and the softest of leathers and bedding was much the same, though most did sleep in a coffin-like bed. Harry, however, was not restricted to such a thing, and after so many years in a cupboard, the vampires ordered him a king sized bed with down mattress that they outfitted in only the best. It seemed everyone in the house owned a cell phone and laptop, while the garage was full of the best cars mortals could make, both European and otherwise. Their weaponry was nearly space-age, as far as Harry knew, and put what the Lycans had to shame by far.
But it was his new form that had them all entranced in the mansion. The mix of lycan and vampyre blood had created a third, very unique form in his body, and while he could become a lycan or vampyre at will, this "immortal form" as they called it was amazing. As with his lycan form, however, it was highly advised that he remove his shirt, or it would simply be wasted anyway. Shoes and pants suffered only minor damage during a transformation to this form, thankfully allowing him some modesty. And it was this form that Viktor and Lucian were both looking at right now.
The blue skin tint that took over in this form was something they couldn't explain, but it definitely marked him as one of a kind. Claws took place of fingernails on his hands, and of his toenails, but to a lesser extent on the latter. While vampyre-like fangs protruded clearly, even with his mouth closed. Those changes, combined with his chin-length black hair and amazing frame made for quite the picture. Perhaps the thing that made him look demonic, however, was his eyes. In his normal form, they were the usual emerald green. For his lycan form they became a green and golden iris with black overtaking the whites of his eyes. His vampyre form sported ice green eyes when he was about to feed or was feeding,. But this immortal form sported eyes that were completely black, iris and all.
"I'd say that his training is complete, Lucian," Viktor said, still examining Harry's immortal form. He himself had trained Harry in swordplay, while Selene and Kahn trained him in the use and care of guns of almost any shape and size. Craven's only real involvement had been in teaching the young man some of the technology the mansion had to offer.
Lucian nodded almost absently, very much pleased with the way things had turned out. "Yes." His eyes met Harry's directly as he changed from immortal form into his human form. "I'd say its time we let Voldemort know that our allegiance has changed."
Harry looked up, a smirk crossing his lips in such a way that even Viktor was wary. "I'm coming with you when you do."
"I'm not sure that's wise, Harry."
"I don't care. I was trained to use the telepathic powers I possess. There's no way he can find out its me. Besides, if I'm your lord, then he'll want to speak with me, I'm sure."
"That is true," Viktor conceded, still not sure of the plan. "Your scar is a dead give away, however. And there is no magic that would hide it, you know this."
Harry nodded. "I know. That's why I'll be in a hooded cloak, with my face completely hidden from his view." He grinned. "Besides, since you guys got my school stuff a week ago, I've spent a good deal of time reading over my books. There's a spell that will keep him from being able to move the hood without my permission and what not."
Lucian couldn't help but give a slight chuckle. "It seems you're learning that in order to beat this evil, you'll have to do more than just let other's train you."
"Yeah, yeah. Also, I want to see my friends...in the same disguise, with you there."
"Why on earth would you do such a thing?"
"I want you to pledge your allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix. You've pledged it to me as Harry Potter, and as the Immortal. Now, its time to let the Order know who you're fighting for."
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Voldemort's lair (What? Dark Lords always have a lair...) -
"My...my lord?" a squeaking voice enquired.
"What is it, Wormtail?" The responding voice was high-pitched, callous and cold.
The man who was called Wormtail faced his lord, watery eyes never meeting the face directly. It was more than obvious that this man was absolutely terrified of his lord. Peter Pettigrew wrung his hands anxiously, praying to whatever deity that might exist that his announcement wouldn't end in pain. "The Lycans and vampires have requested audience with you, My Lord. They insist upon it."
A positively evil smile flitted across the face of the Lord Voldemort. Oh yes, he had been expecting to hear from the two species. Thus far they had yet to have their services required and Voldemort was quite sure they wanted to complain on that fact. After all, Lycans and vampires were two races that wizards in general feared, and as such, did everything they could to deny rights to. And while he had no intention of following through with all of his promises, they would make excellent allies in this war against Dumbledore and his followers.
His burning red eyes looked at his servant for a moment, before he waved his hand in dismissal. "Send them in."
Within moments, nine cloaked figures entered the room. Two had their hoods pushed back upon entering, and six others pushed theirs back once they stood in front of him. But one, one kept his hood up, completely obscuring Voldemort's view of the figure's face. The two who had entered with hoods lowered were Viktor and Lucian, the heads of their kinds. The other six were the most trusted confidants of their lords. Curious, Voldemort flicked his hand in the direction of the hooded figure, only to find his spell blocked.
"You," he said, pointing at the figure. "Remove your hood in my presence."
"I will not," the man replied, his voice one Voldemort was quite sure he'd never heard before.
"Do you know to whom you speak, you insolent fool?"
Before Voldemort could make a move to do anything, Lucian and Viktor closed ranks in front of the cloaked man, despite the fact that the most trusted of Death Eaters were entering the room.
"It is you who does not know to whom they speak, Lord Voldemort," Viktor informed him, his head held high, light blue eyes blazing as he bared his fangs.
"Enough," the cloaked man said, and Viktor stepped aside, much to Voldemort's surprise. A pair of black eyes looked out at him from under the hood, and Voldemort was quite sure he saw the glint of fangs as well, startling him. "You call yourself a Lord, Voldemort, but you have yet to earn the title. And your manners leave a good deal to be desired. But none the less, I do need to introduce myself."
Thanks to a very powerful glamour charm, Harry had altered his appearance to keep from being recognizable, and so when the hood was lowered, all Voldemort saw was blue skin, black eyes and fangs with chin length black hair. The trademark scar was hidden behind the hair, and bone structure was cleverly changed as well. "I am the Immortal, Lord of both vampires and Lycans alike."
At this, Voldemort sat back in his chair, surprised more than he'd show. "You dare insult me?" he asked, but made no move for his wand as he would have otherwise.
"Yes, I do dare. And I also dare this...as of this moment; you no longer have the support of the Lycans or vampires. You've proven in the past to be unable to keep the promises you make to those who aid you, and I will not allow them to be tricked. As we speak, Lycans and vampires alike are spreading the word of your deceit to other races." Harry paused to smirk here. "I would suspect that by the end of tomorrow, you'll no longer find allies so easy to come by."
Voldemort was on his feet in an instant, wand out and pointed at this Immortal. "You FOOL!" he yelled, causing a few of the Death Eaters to cower. "You would dare cross me in such a way? I swear to you, you will die by my hand sooner or later."
Harry grinned now, showing a full set of fangs to match the more prominent pair.
"There's one problem there, Voldemort."
"What?"
"I'm already dead..." he said, and with that, he and his company disappeared from the lair, leaving Voldemort to take out his frustration on his Death Eaters.
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12 Grimmwauld Place -
A knock on the door had Molly Weasley nearly jumping out of her chair in the small study, and the second had her rushing for the door, wondering who on earth it could be. A quick peep through the peephole had her sending an alert to Dumbledore down in the kitchen, and soon, she was joined by her husband, Dumbledore, Moody and Remus, as well as Tonks. She stepped aside to allow Dumbledore to look through the peephole, and huddled against the wall when he opened the door.
"And just who are you?" Dumbledore questioned, his blue eyes trying to peer into the hoods of these people standing on the doorstep.
At his question, Lucian and Viktor pushed back their hoods to answer. "We're here to speak to you, Dumbledore. Let us in, and we'll explain further."
There was the sound of scurrying on the stairs, and all turned in that direction just in time to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny stumble down in almost unison. The three teens looked at the door, obviously hoping it would be someone else, but at the sight of the hooded figures, their hands moved towards their wands.
"Who're they?" Ron asked, moving protectively in front of the girls.
One of the hooded figures moved forward, black eyes shimmering under the hood. "We're friends; now then...may we enter?"
"Let them in," another voice said, this one coming from the stairs that led to the kitchen.
This time, the group look revealed Serverus Snape standing there. "They're werewolves and vampires...and I unless I'm wrong, that man there is the Immortal."
The hooded man smirked, this time showing a glimmer of fangs. "Correct, Mr. Snape," he said, giving the slightest of bows in his direction, surprising the Potion Master. Then, the black eyes slid to Dumbledore, who was watching them intently. "If we may enter, Dumbledore?"
Shaken from his reverie, Dumbledore moved aside, and the crowd in the entry hall parted down the middle to allow their guests entry. As the nine passed, the Order members and teens fell in behind them while Snape showed the way down to the kitchen. Once in the room, the nine remained standing, allowing the Order to take the seats around the table. When everyone had finally turned their chairs in the direction of the guests, Viktor and Lucian pushed their hoods back, revealing their almost polar opposite appearances. Viktor being winter pale, with his blonde hair and blue eyes, and alabaster skin while Lucian was shaded in browns for hair and eyes, as well as lightly tanned skin. The members were surprised, given the fact that aside from Remus, none of them had seen another werewolf, much less a vampyre. The two lords shared a look, and then turned to Dumbledore.
"I'm quite sure that by now you've heard of our visit to Voldemort, declaring that we will no longer support him in this war of yours. In all honesty, neither species would bother with a mortal's war under normal circumstances. But these are anything but normal circumstances."
Dumbledore's blue eyes peered over the half-moon spectacles at Viktor as he spoke, then moved slowly past him to the other vampires and Lycans who had finally lowered their own hoods, leaving the Immortal as the only one with a hood still up. "They most certainly are not normal circumstances, I agree. I must, however, express my curiosity at your change of heart. Lord Voldemort has a great deal more to offer you in the way of blood, I admit, if only because our side refuses to resort to such measures."
"Do not refer to that creature as a Lord. He has not earned the title."
The sudden interruption from the Immortal had all in the room turning to look at him as he finally pushed the hood back, this time using a much more powerful charm that was specially designed to trick objects like Moody's magical eye, which could see through things like walls and invisibility cloaks. The smirk he gave was anything but pleasant, really, but showed his disdain of Voldemort's unearned title clearly.
"Creature?" Hermione questioned from her spot at the table, drawing the Immortal's attention to her. Something about him softened when he looked at her, but later, when they had all had time to think on it...they'd swear it was imagined.
"Yes, creature. He is neither living nor dead, human nor non-human. He's simply a thing. Nothing more or less."
"I must agree with the Immortal," Dumbledore said from his spot, drawing attention back to him. "Voldemort is nothing more than spirit now, and that is what will make him difficult to kill. His physical form is merely a shell that is easily broken."
"Indeed," the lycan doctor said from his spot just behind Lucian. "I've studied this thing's use of magic thoroughly, and there is nothing, short of the Philosopher's Stone that would bring him back in a truly human form." He smirked at Dumbledore. "And you had the sense to have that thing destroyed years ago, thankfully."
"Wouldn't have had the chance if not for Harry, though," Ron said, unable to stop himself.
The immortal looked at him in amusement. "That is what the stories say isn't it?"
"It's not just a story," Ron declared hotly as he stood up. "Hermione and I were there!" He gestured at his friend, glaring at the Immortal all the while. "So don't talk about Harry as if he's just a legend!"
Rather than punish Ron, the Immortal gave a hint of a smile. "I'm sure your friend would appreciate your loyalty to him. And I meant no offense. I was simply stating a fact that very few really know what happened in any of his adventures, except for you two of course," he added with a respectful nod at Ron and Hermione.
Pacified for the moment, Ron sat back down, much to the relief of his mother. "Then you know he's dead, right?"
The Immortal seemed surprised by this, but shook it off. "He's not dead…"
At this, Dumbledore looked surprised. "You've seen him?"
"Yes…"
The answer might have been incomplete, but it was all that those in the room needed to hear.
"When did you see him? Where? How was he?"
These questions were fired in rapid succession by Molly Weasley as she regained her voice for the first time since seeing the cloaked figures outside the door. And yet the Immortal took his time in answering.
"I saw him recently, and will not say more, other than that he is fine. He spoke of returning to Hogwarts this fall, which, if I'm not mistaken, the new term starts in only a week. So you will see him then." There was something in the tone that made it clear that he wished to say no more on the topic, and so, with a good deal of restraint, no one did.
The Immortal glanced at Viktor and Lucian when the room went quiet, and they nodded. Both stepped forward as the immortal stepped back, pulling his hood back up to cover his face while Lucian and Viktor bowed to Dumbledore.
"Now to the reason we have come to see you," the Immortal said, his black eyes barely visible from behind the hood.
Dumbledore turned his attention to Viktor and Lucian, curious. "Yes?"
Lucian went first, his eyes meeting Dumbledore's directly. "You have my word that every lycan shall be more than willing to aid you against Voldemort, by whatever means you deem proper. With the aid of the Immortal, we no longer have the need to feed upon humans for blood, and can instead get it elsewhere. So while the killing of mortals may still be what our wolfish forms want, a good many Lycans are now able to control the transformation and retain their more human personality." He paused; taking in the surprised look of Remus, then gave the hints of a smile before stepping back again.
Now, Viktor met the eyes of the wizened headmaster, his face serious. "My coven and our allies will also aid you and yours in this war."
His shortened speech had Lucian smirking, given the lack of proclamation that bloodshed was not a necessary requirement. But then the Immortal stepped forward again, leaving his hood up. He handed a pendant in the shape of a phoenix to Dumbledore and smirked, causing his fangs to glimmer in the light. "Use this whenever you need either of them. They will answer the call promptly."
And with that, the group disappeared, leaving the kitchen in a state of chaos as each tried to talk out the ramifications of the two races joining up with the order.
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A/N: Ok, that seems like a good stopping place for now. And Sorry about the delay. If you read the Author notes I had up in place of this chapter then you know what was going on. I now have a new computer, and have spent the better part of the past two days getting it set up as I wanted it. But now that I've got all this set up, I will be working on Faith in every available moment. Thanks for your patience, and look for an update around two to four weeks from now. I won't make any more definite promise on updates than that, what with the release of HBP and all...which I am sure I'll wanna read twice right after I get it. LOL.
THANKS to my reviewers!
Songs:
(1) - "Its Over" - The Goo Goo Dolls