Blood Bound: A Vampire Tale
Disclaimer: Everything concerning Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing, nor is this done for any purpose except my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of anyone reading this. There is no attempt to make any profit.
I wish to extend a grateful thank you to my beta readers, Amanda and Prof Roz. Any mistakes left in this story are due to my last minute revisions.
A/N Conversations in italic print are telepathic in nature.
Chapter Nineteen
"Harry, I can't believe you did that! The Weasleys must feel awful!" Hermione sounded alarmed as she stood there with her arms akimbo, reminding him of Molly Weasley.
"No, Hermione, I wanted them to know Fenrir is dead. They can tell Bill and Lupin that the one that ruined their lives is gone; he paid for what he did. Mr. Weasley can tell the Ministry and maybe everyone will breathe easier now that the monster is dead," Harry protested. Nevertheless, he was looking down at his feet, as he wondered if Hermione might be right.
He had sent her ahead to London, because he did not want her to know what he was going to do. It was the work of a minute or two to take Fenrir's head, and only about ten to plant it in the Weasley's garden, then he had Apparated back to the factory in London. What he had not expected was her horrified response when he expected her praise.
"Harry, in the old days we used to do that as a threat or warning, don't you realize that is what Arthur and Molly will think that this is? Kingsley is afraid of us as it is, now you've made it worse," she chided gently.
Secretly, she realized that Harry's vampire had done it. The battle with Fenrir had given it control; and by the time Harry had come to his senses, the deed was done. It bothered her that some small part of her had enjoyed smashing Fenrir against that tree, and she was disappointed that she had not hurt him worse. She wrapped her arms around herself and wondered how long it would take before the vampire within her would began to do things like this?
Seeing the rather woebegone look on Harry's face, she reached out and took his arm. She sighed and said, "What's done is done, and it won't be any use fussing anymore. Maybe we can explain to Fred and George." She smiled at him and gave him a reassuring hug before she left Harry on the roof of the old factory and went down to gather what she needed for her night's research at the library.
As Harry brooded on the roof he slowly became aware that he was being watched. He looked down on the street below and sensed a figure standing in the shadows across the street. As he touched its mind he knew it was another vampire.
Aware of his knowledge, the vampire stepped out of the shadows. He was powerfully built with dark hair gathered in a long ponytail. He was dressed in a black ulster and had on heavy boots. Harry ran down the stairs as Hermione was coming up from the basement. He pointed at his wand and she handed it to him. He motioned her to stay out of sight behind him as he exited the loading dock. He stood there facing the other vampire across the street. Even at a distance he could see the vampire had strongly chiseled features set in an arrogant expression. His eyes were almond shaped and reminded Harry of Blaise Zabini.
"Lawbreaker, you are summoned by the governor to appear before him for judgment. You have not presented yourself before him, as custom demands. Be at Westminster Palace at midnight. If you fail to appear as commanded you will be hunted and destroyed."
The dark figure turned and began walking swiftly down the street. Harry Apparated to the corner ahead of him and as he approached Harry stepped into the sidewalk in front of him. The vampire's eyes went wide in shock as he turned to see if Harry was still standing at the factory. Before he could do anything else, Harry gestured with his wand and ropes bound the newcomer. The vampire was probably very strong, but he could do nothing against the ropes Harry had conjured. At last he slipped and fell helplessly to the sidewalk. Harry again waved his wand and the dark haired vampire was hanging upside down before him.
"Who are you?"
Harry could feel the other's anger and embarrassment as he hung there, but he refused to say anything. "Fine," thought Harry, "I'll leave you like this on the factory roof over there. I want to see if any of my rope will be left tomorrow night."
Sensing the truth of Harry's intention he thought, "I'm Stephen, the governor's chief Enforcer."
Before Harry could reply someone else entered their conversation, "Stephen, I told you to be polite. Why did you disobey?" The voice made Harry think of golden honey.
Harry spun around as a beefy, middle-aged man approached. He was very tall and was wearing an impeccably tailored suit under an Inverness cape. Except for the fact he was extremely pale and he moved with an inhuman grace and speed, he might have passed for a mortal.
Stephen's eyes went wide as he stuttered, "G-g-overnor Varney I-I-I-"
"Disobeyed my direct order that you be polite to this young vampire, who, by the way, is more powerful right now than you or I will ever be." Harry noted that the governor's face had heavy jowls that reminded him of Aunt Martha's bulldogs. Varney's bushy eyebrows met as he expressed his displeasure with his Enforcer.
"Will you please release my foolish servant, Harry Potter?" Seeing the startled expression on Harry's face, "Yes, after your little demonstration I guessed your name. Is your consort, Miss Granger in the factory? Never mind, I can feel her presence there." His too-wide smile revealed his fangs; Harry noticed that all of his teeth were sharp, just like some kind of shark. He suddenly felt that the honey was undoubtedly poisonous. Harry shuddered at that smile, and he sensed that in spite of what Governor Varney had said about his power, he felt that it would be unwise to provoke a confrontation. With a wave of his wand Stephen crashed to the pavement as the ropes vanished.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Stephen, you may go about your business. I will render my judgment and bring it to the council later tonight. Mr. Potter, will you please walk with me?" Stephen hunched his shoulders and walked swiftly up the street.
"Please forgive Stephen, he trusts too much in his vampiric gifts and believes we are the top of the food chain. He won't accept there are older powers in the earth. I, however, know better.
He began walking up the street, away from the traffic and into the areas even more desolate. He traveled at a seemingly normal pace, yet it ate the blocks like a wildfire.
"Why, didn't you present yourself before the council? We are far less sticky about travel these days," he chided amiably.
"I didn't know I was supposed to."
"Didn't your sire teach you the customs? Come, I have observed you obey the law, why do you ignore the customs?"
"My sire taught me the law; he left it imprinted on my mind. But I don't know who he was, he destroyed himself without teaching me," Harry thought defiantly.
The governor halted abruptly and stared at Harry. The young vampire thought that there was interest in the expression, but disbelief in the elder vampire's eyes. "May I examine your memory?" Harry nodded yes. "Think of your first days," Varney instructed. Harry looked into the governor's eyes, suddenly he felt as thought he had been transported through time to that cool July day. Harry thought back to the attack and how he woke up in the culvert. How he had attacked Piers and Gordon and how his sire had instructed him and left him the message.
After a few moments Harry seemed to come to himself; he looked at the elder vampire before him. The governor was lost in thoughts of his own. He smiled at Harry; this time it appeared far more genuine, "Martin of Canterbury was your sire. Giving you a second chance would have appealed to his sense of justice, since those mortals killed you. However, I'm surprised he got involved. He was growing very tired, but it was irresponsible of him to bring you over and not instruct you." Varney appeared angry at Martin, but the ancient vampire was now beyond the governor's power.
"He told me when he discovered that I was a wizard that he hoped they would help me. But when the time came I panicked and ran from them. I don't understand; what was he was tired of?"
"He was tired of existence. You will understand, eventually. Observe a few mortal lifetimes and you will see. They grow, Mr. Potter, and they age and become tired. Often, they become ill and there is pain. They look forward to the release of death. In that moment you can sense a feeling of freedom in them as they slip away. You will come to envy them, and the release of death, until at last; the pain of your unchanging existence will be more than facing the pain you will experience in your final sunrise. I have seen this many times in my two hundred and fifty years."
They walked on in silence for a few minutes as Harry processed the information he had received. Varney looked at him and thought, "What am I to do with you, Mr. Potter? What are you doing? I have tried to contact you before, but you and Miss Granger come and go in the blink of an eye."
"My former headmaster and my friend, Albus Dumbledore, gave me a task before he died. I am trying to fulfill it. I can't speak of what it is, he told me not to," Harry answered.
"Wait just a moment, if you please, Mr. Potter. Fudge, come to me. I command it." Varney lifted his head and spoke to the air. His voice had an odd resonance to it, but it was deep with none of the spectral quality that Harry noticed when Hermione spoke to him. He supposed he sounded different to her, too.
Harry goggled at the voice he just heard; and was having a harder time processing what it said, when Cornelius Fudge, pin-striped cloak, lime-green bowler, and all Apparated to them about five minutes later. He had the remains of a large sandwich in one hand, a tumbler of whiskey in the other, and a vacant expression on his face. Harry noticed that he did not look well. His face was lined and what hair he had was even grayer. He had lost some weight but it made him look ill rather than better.
The governor stared at Fudge, who began answering his questions like a monotone machine gun. "Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is dead now. Yes, Minister Scrimgeour is most upset that Harry Potter has disappeared. No, he wouldn't tell anyone. The minister knows he's a vampire. The Aurors and vampire hunters are after him, but they can't find him. They fear him because he took the head of one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's servants. It appears he has declared war on us; he is responsible for the death of several other wizards, but there is doubt, all of them were servants of You-Know-Who."
Varney addressed Harry once more. "You know that it was this business with that head that made it imperative that we meet; it has really upset the wizards that know you are one of us." Varney looked at Harry with consternation. "Why are you going after Voldemort, what are you planning to do to him, and what are your plans for afterwards?"
Harry was startled at the depth of Varney's knowledge and he answered without thinking. "I'm going to destroy him because he killed my parents and he's been trying to kill me ever since he murdered them. When this is over, I want to see some of the world. I've never had the chance to go anywhere." Harry realized that Fudge had been in Varney's thrall for a long time; therefore it should not surprise him that he knew a great deal of what passed in the wizarding world.
Seeing that Harry was staring at Fudge, the Governor commanded him to leave and the wizard Apparated away again.
"A very lucky and useful acquisition, I caught him in a youthful indiscretion many years ago. He has taught me a great deal about the world. Do you have any questions?"
"How do I contact the vampire council?"
"Appear at the city hall of the city you are in at midnight. A representative of the local council will be there. However, as you do not wish to be a part of vampire society at the present time…" Harry started to protest, but the governor silenced him. "Since you are engaged in a vendetta with a wizard, we cannot allow ourselves to become involved. It would be too dangerous for us. Stephen can handle most any vampire; you bested him with a wave of your wand. At such time as your vendetta is over, we will welcome you, should you still desire it. Till such time you will be labled Outcast, and no vampire will either aid you or thwart you. I will pass word to the Synod of my judgment. Know this, Harry Potter, the name of Voldemort had darkened our councils as we have debated how best to cope with him. For my part, I wish you well. Anything else?"
"Your teeth…," Harry blurted.
The governor smiled that shark-like smile, "It comes with age, after a hundred years or so your teeth will be like mine."
Varney turned and began walking away. He rounded a corner and vanished from Harry's sight and his vampire senses.
Harry Apparated back to the lair and found Hermione waiting for him. They discussed what had transpired between Governor Varney and him, each of them admired the secrecy with which the other vampires had managed to observe them. Hermione Apparated to the library as Harry wondered what to do.
He decided the best thing to do was explain to Fred and George what he had been trying to say by leaving such a grisly token in their parent's garden. He Apparated to Diagon Ally and walked close to their shop. The windows were dark and his senses told him that no one was there. He waited to see if there was a message for him on their sign, but after reading the advertisements several times it appeared that they had not left a message.
He supposed that he ought to go to the Burrow to apologize, but he wasn't sure how to contact Mr. Weasley or Fred and George, he was sure he didn't want Molly to know that he was a vampire if she didn't already. He remembered that the secret of his being a vampire was known by only a few wizards. Only Lupin, McGonagall, Arthur, Fred, and George had actually seen him, he didn't count Tonks because she would not remember him. Scrimgeour, Kingsley and a few of his Aurors probably knew, but Harry was pretty sure most of those hunting him did not know his actual identity.
Taking his cue from Varney, Harry Apparated to the cemetery where Hermione's parents were entombed. He knew instinctively that Tonks would answer his call, but he was unsure of how to contact her. He centered his mind on Tonks, trying to see and hear through her eyes and ears as he was inspired by the book "Dracula".
He passed into a trance there on the bench under the stars. He felt that he was in a room somewhere; the lights were dim and he could hear soft music coming from a Wizard Wireless. He vaguely remembered hearing music like this when he stayed at the Burrow. Suddenly, he realized he was in the kitchen of the Burrow! Tonks was visiting Molly and Arthur. He could hear the voices as they sat and talked. Evidently Fred and George were there too, for they interrupted from time to time with a funny comment. The topics of conversation were light and unfocused; apparently they were trying to get away from the stress of the war. He could sense that Tonks was worried about Remus and she did not know where he was. She was passing the time with all of the friendly faces she could find. He basked in the feelings of love and companionship as the conversation drifted.
He became aware that the feelings changed; clearly Tonks was preparing to leave.
Through her eyes he saw the back door and the garden beyond. As she walked out of the anti-Apparition ward he sent her a command to come to the graveyard as he had instructed her. He withdrew from her mind and waited.
In less than a minute she had appeared before the octagonal structure where the Grangers were buried. Harry went to her. She appeared as unfocused and blank as Fudge had been. During the course of the questioning Harry found out what had been going on in England.
The news that Snape was dead had spread through the wizarding world like a fire. There weren't too many that had known of Harry's accusation of Snape being the one that murdered Dumbledore, but many remembered him as a teacher.
Tonks related the meeting in Shacklebolt's office when he had alerted Carstairs to the problem that he felt Harry and Hermione were becoming. In the weeks following, the vampire hunters redoubled their efforts to locate them. They were severely handicapped because they were after vampires that could Apparate, and it was making them all very tense.
It had been a difficult time for Tonks personally; she knew that Harry was a vampire, yet she had sworn not to betray him to the vampire hunters until the Order knew what kind of threat he represented. Nevertheless, she had helped organize the search for him, all the while hoping not to find him
Harry realized what a great stroke of luck they had been granted. When the vampire hunters had been looking for him in England, they had been in Albania. They were sure to have been discouraged because at the time that they were trying the hardest to find them he had not even been in the country. He now realized how his vampire nature had betrayed him. He had been hidden, but now he had once more called attention to himself. He and Hermione were in greater danger than ever before. The Ministry would renew its efforts to find them in the face of the perceived threat he and Hermione represented.
"Tonks, thank you for not betraying us," he thought. "Go home and be at peace, you will not remember this when you wake up. No matter what happens, I am grateful for your friendship. I hope, when all of this is over, you can be happy with Remus. Good bye for now."
Tonks Apparated away and Harry Apparated back to the lair. He appeared on the loading dock and was walking toward the stairs when a hand reached out and pulled him into the shadows. Harry was startled and angry. His eyes flashed red and he extended his talons as he prepared to attack the person that was holding him against the wall.
"Wait, Harry, it's me," Hermione's thought was nervous. "At the library my amulet beeped twice. There were vampire hunters near the library, so I came here to wait for you. I think they are looking for us."
"They are, and it is because of that stupid stunt with Greyback. We've got to get out of here, but I don't know were we could hide," Harry was rapidly growing more concerned as he discarded possibilities. The wizards would be checking everywhere they could and they knew the places that had been known to him when he was alive.
Hermione thought, "There's one place we might hide that they may not think of. You'll have to side-along Apparate with me." Harry appreciated that there was not a hint of "I told you so" in Hermione's thoughts.
Harry nodded and went down to get their belongings; his mind was racing as fast as his hands and feet. He knew that the Misuse of Magic office had detected him before. They did not know who did the magic, but knew where it had been done. If they did magic, and the Ministry did detect it, it would give away the location of their lair. He returned to the loading dock and gave her his thoughts on the matter.
Suddenly, their amulets emitted a quiet beeping noise. Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and held her still, because she had instinctively risen on her toes. Quickly he slung on his backpack, handed Hermione hers, and mounted the Firebolt. After kicking off, he gained only enough altitude to clear the fence and sped down a deserted street to the river. Together, they raced eastward keeping low to the water as Harry dodged the ships in the channel leading to the sea. Once they cleared the London area, Harry slowed the Firebolt and turned toward the shore. They touched down in a vacant field and tried to calm themselves. Harry could tell the close call had allowed Hermione's vampire to try to gain ascendance, she was struggling to control it.
"Are you ready?" she asked. Harry took her arm.
"Where are we…" he tried to ask, but he was trapped in the constriction of the Apparition process before he could voice his question.
They appeared in a quaint village square surrounded by opulent mansions. The green was an immaculate park with benches, sculptured trees, and well tended beds for flowers. There were no flowers in the winter, of course, but it was obvious that the work was a year round effort.
Harry recognized all of this in a moment before he registered Hermione's horrified gasp, "Oh, my God, I forgot."
He looked toward the east, at the mountains rising behind the village. The majestic peaks were crowned with fire and golden flames were shooting overhead. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him to the door of one of the houses on the eastern side of the square.
The home was built of gray stone, with tall windows framed in elegant curtains. Harry could see smoke coming from the chimneys on both sides of the house. Hermione raced up the steps and began pounding desperately at the door.
She had forgotten to breathe and she was telepathically shouting, "Victor! Victor! Help us, please help us!"
A voice spoke from behind them, "Hermy-own-ninny, is dat jou?" Victor Krum was coming up the steps behind them dressed in running clothes. He was wiping his face with a towel and had a ring of keys in his other hand.
Harry looked at Krum, behind him he noticed the steeple of the local church blaze with light as it was touched by the rising sun. Krum was looking at Hermione with an expression of disbelief on his features, "Vat are you doing here? I heard that you were…"
Hermione's eyes rolled upward in her head as she collapsed into Harry. He quickly wrapped his arms around her as Krum hurried to unlock the door.
Before he could turn and ask Harry if he needed help, he found himself flying down the hallway. Harry had grabbed the back of his sweatshirt and thrown him two-thirds of the way to the staircase that rose to the second story. Angrily, he rose from the floor and whirled around, as he did so he heard the door to the closet next to the entrance snap shut.
He stalked to the closet and threw open the door. Hermione lay with her back against the wall, apparently sleeping. Harry had collapsed onto his side with his head in Hermione's lap. Krum rolled him over and recoiled in shock. Harry's eyes were open, but instead of the green that Victor remembered, his irises were glowing blood red. His mouth was fixed in a snarl that showed off his fangs and Krum noticed the claws that tipped his fingers.
With trembling hands he felt for Hermione's pulse, there was none. In addition, her skin was cold as the snow outside and hard. Victor Krum looked in horror at the figures in his closet. Running his fingers through his hair, he whispered, "Mein Gott, Nosferatu."