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 Twenty-Three
Harry could not believe what the dementor had just told him. "But it must be; Tom prepared it to be the Horcrux." He looked desperately at Hermione. "What could have happened?"
Hermione began pacing like she had done before the bottles seven years before. Harry knew her mind was working on the problem.
In order to help, he began talking out loud to himself, trying to come up with an alternate plan. What other victories might he mark with a Horcrux? His first thought was Tom's triumph over his father? That would mean that the Horcrux would be in Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton. The drawback to that idea was that it would put two Horcruxes too close together, one on each side of the valley. Now that he considered it, why was he so sure that Tom could keep a Horcrux at Godric's Hollow? It seemed that it would be difficult to establish sufficient security to keep it safe. He was wondering what the next step should be. Tom would hear about the fire at the orphanage. What would he do then?
"Hermione, I just know he went to Godric's Hollow to make the Horcrux. He entered the cottage and dueled with my father. He came into the room to kill me and my mother sacrificed herself. When she died, she gave me the protection of her blood. He then cast the killing curse at me and it rebounded…"
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "When the curse rebounded, it tore his soul from his body. His soul split as it was supposed to; but the problem is that without his body and wand, he couldn't direct where his soul fragment went. It must have attached itself to the most powerful magical object it could find. It should have found its way into some other object in the house."
"We didn't find anything; we searched, remember? Might have it attached itself to a wand?" he asked.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. Wands aren't magical in themselves. The core focuses the magic, which comes from the soul. It's like an antenna capturing and directing what the dementor calls the 'flows of power'."
"Wait - the snitch! It's magical." He began digging in his back pack, scattering the contents as he dug for the small box.
With a grin of triumph he held the snitch out to the dementor. Again the cold, electric voice of the dementor told him, "There is no being within this instrumentality, silent one."
Harry collapsed in defeat. "Do you have any ideas, Hermione?" He was wracking his brain in an attempt to come up with anything else he knew of that might have belonged to his parents. Suddenly it clicked; he looked at Hermione with astonishment. How could he not have realized it before? "Hermione, the only thing it can be is…"
"Your dad's Invisibility Cloak," Hermione gasped.
Harry's mind was whirling as she dug through her backpack for the cloak. He remembered the dreams; they started after the Christmas he received the cloak. The visions occurred most often when he was in bed; the cloak was hidden in his trunk stored underneath it.
In later years, as he used it, he guessed that he was being affected by it. Tom could influence his mind from a bit farther away, like he had when he convinced him that Sirius was being held in the Ministry of Magic. Last year, even Ron and Hermione had used it enough to be influenced by it.
Ron had always hated being poor, but he had never stooped to stealing. Yet, last year he had kept the Fanged Frisbee that Hermione had confiscated. He had been inflamed by lust, using Lavender, treating her as an object, just because Ginny had taunted him about his lack of romantic experience.
Hermione had likewise been affected. She had never begrudged anyone's success, yet she had been put out by his success at potions. She had never been jealous before, but Ron's fling with Lavender had really upset her. Before, she would at least listen, last year she ignored his theories when they did not suit her expectations.
He had started showing signs the previous year to that. True he had been grieving Cedric, but his anger had been out of control. His own attraction toward Cho had turned into lust for Ginny last year. He had not really considered it at the time, but his letting everyone believe that his work in potions was due to his own genius, was really cheating. No wonder Hermione had been upset.
Harry realized that Dumbledore had been right. The scar was the connection, but neither of them realized that the power came from a bit of Voldemort's soul residing only a few feet away, hidden in his father' old cloak.
Hermione drew the silvery cloak from her backpack and presented it to the dementor.
"There is a being within this instrumentality, silent one."
This time the process took longer, the figure was larger, but its struggle was equally futile against the dementor's power. Harry could see the look of terror on Tom's now snake-like face before the fragment was swallowed up.
Harry was trembling when the dementor raised its hood once more. He nodded at the monster and commanded, "You may go." The creature disappeared into the night.
Hermione stood beside Harry looking into the darkness, "I wonder what will happen to the soul fragments. If a soul is not together, I wonder what happens when it changes? Do you think that it might not be strong enough to go to a different Frequency and be trapped in between?" To that Harry had no answer.
"What now, Harry?"
"We need to move to London. Tomorrow we'll go talk to Fred and George. I need to explain that we meant no threat and we can give the cup and ring to them; these objects need to be returned to the wizarding world. Perhaps they can hide them at Hogwarts until Tom is destroyed.
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Remus Lupin looked over the campfire at the other ragged souls huddling around. The werewolves of England gathered in loose communities in rural areas. They were required by the laws of the Werewolf Code of Conduct to get as far as possible from humans during the time of the full moon. So they tended to drift, much like gypsies. Looked down upon by wizards as being diseased and despised by Muggles who regarded them as thieves and beggars, life was never easy.
Now, there were promises of better times ahead. The Death Eaters had been among them, promising that they could have a greater say in the world in which they lived. Voldemort was promising that he would support them, gather them together in communities where they would rule the surrounding areas. All they had to do was swear allegiance to him and fight for him against the wizards that had always run their lives.
Lupin and the other werewolves that had come from wizarding stock tried to warn the others that Voldemort was a liar. They described the way he had deceived so many others, how those that served him were often sacrificed to aims that were not their own. He had been moderately successful in defusing the discontent that Voldemort had been creating through his agent, Fenrir Greyback.
But shockwaves had reverberated through the werewolves when the death of Greyback had become known to them. Even though many had disliked him, or feared him because of his innate viciousness, he was still one of them. No one knew how or why he had been killed. The Death Eaters were quick to lay the blame on the Ministry of Magic. Who knew what the motives of the wizards were? Did they have some new spell that they would be using on those who did not toady to their demands? They had all suffered at the hands of wizards or witches like Dolores Umbridge. What new humiliation was being planned against them?
Lupin feared the werewolves of Muggle stock were listening to the Death Eaters as never before. It would not be long before their leaders finally gave in to their own despair and Voldemort's lies.
He wandered away from the camp, he would not be missed. A short time later he Apparated to the Burrow. He was disappointed to find that Tonks was not visiting this evening. Molly drew him in and forced him to eat. He sat there chatting about the world in general while they waited for Arthur to come home.
With the arrival of the Weasley patriarch things got a bit more serious. Molly acted as secretary while Lupin gave his report. The Order needed to know what was going on with the werewolves and were grateful to Lupin for his undercover role among them. Noticing that Arthur made no mention of Greyback or Harry, Lupin asked no questions either. At last, Lupin prepared to depart the comfort of the Burrow. He was preparing to leave when Molly pressed a sack full of food upon him. With tears in his eyes, he gave her a huge hug and made his way into the darkness.
Arthur left Molly to clean up and he followed Lupin out of the door.
"Thanks for not mentioning Greyback. Molly doesn't know the details about his death." He told Lupin about finding Fenrir's head in their garden and how he had modified her memory. "She knows only that he is dead. The charm keeps any details from staying in her memory."
"Any ideas about what happened to him? I might be able to diffuse some of the anger among the werewolves."
Arthur bit his lip, taking a deep breath he said, "Harry happened to Greyback. I found his head in my garden. It was stuck on a pole, just like in the old days. The claw marks were unmistakable. It was a vampire. No one but Harry or Hermione could have done that."
"I don't know what has made him so inhuman so fast," Arthur continued. "Kingsley thought it would take years. Those six here, then Snape, Fenrir, and finally Bellatrix," Arthur was counting on his fingers as he ticked them off, "with all the evidence pointing directly at Harry. At least Bellatrix is still alive." He shook his head, "I just don't know what to think anymore. Maybe Kingsley is right; we should destroy him."
Lupin looked at his friend. "War is making Harry like this. We don't know the circumstances surrounding the attacks, but each time Harry is provoked, that vampire within him digs itself deeper. It has to be changing him, and when he becomes a danger to their secrecy, I'd bet even the vampires will be forced to move against him. Meanwhile, I can't use this; the werewolves will just come to see that much more danger in the world and possibly join Voldemort that much faster."
"Do the werewolves know about vampires?" asked Arthur.
"The Muggles among us don't. We'd like to keep it that way. The Ministry would have its hands full. The werewolves would be moving into the cities to find the vampires during the day. We can't risk a conflict like that coming to the notice of the Muggles. Who knows what the vampires could be capable of, or what they might do to protect themselves?"
"Have you heard about the latest hysteria at the Ministry? Since we couldn't find any vampires when they decided to crackdown against Harry, many have decided that the vampires have someone in the Ministry spying for them. No one knows who to trust anymore. If You-know-who moves against us now, he might just be able to take over."
"How many know about Harry?"
"We are being told that there is a rogue vampire making trouble, some have heard of Vlad Dracula and think that this is something like what happened then. Only a very few know that the 'rogue' vampire is Harry. On the plus side, many are pointing out that this vampire is moving against the Death Eaters, no one else has been killed. Then, there is what many are calling the 'Christmas Miracle'. Frank and Alice Longbottom are recovering, and Harry's is being named as the cause of that."
"It is like Dumbledore said; maybe there is too much love in Harry's heart to pose a danger to anyone but Voldemort." He related what McGonagall told Tonks and him about Harry.
As Lupin apparated away, Arthur returned to the Burrow with a renewed sense of hope. He was sure Harry could have killed Bellatrix if he had wanted to, but he did not. Maybe there was some hope for him after all.
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Carstairs appeared on the roof of an ancient office building. The sun hung just over the horizon as he squinted at the old factory across the street. He was pretty sure this was where Stephen had encountered Harry. He knew that checking the factory was the surest way to find if the vampires were hiding there, but since they could Apparate, he felt it would be safer just to wait for a little while each day for them to emerge. No reason to face whatever traps the vampires had engineered to protect their lair.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he shouldered his heavy crossbow and aimed at the loading dock. He knew to expect two of them and he had a second crossbow down on the second floor.
Within the factory, the vampires were preparing to leave for the evening. Harry hoped that Fred and George would speak to them, in spite of what he had done at the Burrow. It felt good to pack away their combat gear for an evening and just look like normal humans for a change. Hermione was wearing a sweater and jeans, while Harry pulled on his light jacket.
She was heading out while Harry packed up the Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's ring. He ran swiftly up the steps and walked out on the loading platform. Hermione was waiting for him so that they could Apparate to Diagon Alley. She turned to look at him as Harry scanned the street before him.
A sudden movement attracted his attention to the building on the far side of the street. He recognized the shape of a head and shoulder above the parapet. Guessing what was coming next he threw himself at Hermione crying out, "Hermione! Get down!"
Carstairs sighted his weapon and pulled the firing lever, the heavy cross bow jumped as the lignum vitae bolt fired from the weapon. Without looking to see if he had hit his target, he apparated to the second floor.
Frantically, Harry leaped. He snatched at the bolt as he shoved Hermione off the platform, to the safety of the railroad tracks below. He was successful in knocking her aside, but he missed the speeding arrow.
The bolt pierced his wrist, the force of the bolt was re-directed slightly and the sharp point buried itself in Harry's shoulder just below his collar bone. Instantly, he lost consciousness and crashed onto the hard concrete, driving the bolt even deeper into his chest.
Hermione grabbed her wand as she landed on the track below the loading platform. Her vampire was alert to the presence of danger. She heard the soft crack of a wizard apparating. Her preternatural hearing pinpointed the window where she saw the curtain twitch.
Carstairs had dropped the first crossbow and grabbed for the second. This was the most critical part of his plan. He didn't know if he would get Harry or Hermione, but he fully expected the other vampire to apparate to safety. A swift glance showed that one of the vampires was down. He hoped that the other vampire would expose itself giving him a second shot before the shock of being under attack wore off.
He had not counted on the swiftness of vampire reflexes combined with powerful magic. Suddenly, the wall before him exploded. He was slammed backwards into a wall and his last awareness consisted of the realization that the building was collapsing on top of him.
Hermione leaped onto the platform. She knew she could not stay here long. One corner of the building across the street had collapsed under the power of her blasting spell. She did not know if the vampire hunter had survived, and she really did not care.
"Harry?" she thought as she rolled him over, "are you all right?"
He was unconscious and unresponsive to her touch. His right arm had been twisted and pinned to the left side of his chest. The quarrel had gone deep, but Hermione was pretty sure it had missed his heart.
Fighting a growing sense of panic, she knew she needed help, but she had no idea of where to turn. The vampires had labeled them outcast, so there was no help there. She thought about the Weasleys. She might go there, except she could not be sure of her reception since Harry had pulled that stunt with Fenrir's head. Fred and George had said that they would help, but Harry had not had time to explain, and there was no where for them to hide in Diagon Ally. It seemed that there was only one place that they could go, Hogwarts. She hoped that if she didn't enter the school itself McGonagall or Hagrid might be able to help Harry.
Her vampire strength meant that she would have no difficulty carrying Harry. She gathered him up, cradling his wounded arm against her breast and holding his head between her cheek and shoulder.
In moments, she was standing outside the Shrieking Shack. She hoped that Lupin might accidentally be there, but a quick scan of the area revealed no one nearby. It was rather difficult to navigate the narrow passage to the Whomping Willow, but in the end she made it. Taking only a moment to immobilize the hateful tree, she plunged on to Hagrid's hut, hoping that the half-giant would be home.
Even as she crossed the lawn to Hagrid's, she could feel the alarm emanating from the school. Fang was reacting as well. He began barking, and Hagrid, unsure of what was going on was opening his door with his crossbow in hand. Undaunted, she hurried on and climbed the steps to Hagrid's small porch.
Hagrid reacted to the figure that had appeared so swiftly out of the darkness by leaping back into his house. As Hermione had approached, Fang had stopped barking and had begun backing away, his tail tucked between his legs. When she set foot upon the steps, he howled and fled for the cover of the forest.
Hermione had never seen Hagrid look afraid, but as he stood there it seemed his hair and beard was standing on end. There was a wild look in his eyes, as if he could not comprehend what he was seeing.
"Hagrid," she said in a small, plaintive voice, "it's me, Hermione. Please help me."
To Hagrid the voice was dry and hollow, but it did sound rather like the Hermione he remembered. But he thought she was dead. He had read the reports, heard the students talking, and had seen Ron's grief.
As ever, he was moved to pity by a voice asking for help, and he knelt in the door. It was a shock to recognize the bushy hair and familiar face. There was something wrong with that face, and then he realized that there were dark streaks coming from her eyes.
He reached out gently and touched one cold cheek. Examining the tip of his finger in the firelight he recognized that it was blood. "My Gawd, Hermione, yer a vampire," he groaned. He scrambled to his feet and beckoned her to enter. "What's tha matter?" If he thought that there could be no worse surprises that night; he was wrong.
Hermione entered the room and laid her burden on Hagrid's bed. "It's Harry, Hagrid, he's been wounded, and I can't get him to wake up."
With trembling fingers, Hagrid felt for Harry's pulse; there was none. "Hermione, he's-"
"A vampire, too. He's the one who turned me."
Hagrid was reeling from the shock. He had encountered vampires before, he knew how heartless and cruel they could be, but now Harry and Hermione were undead too. He had heard the rumors about Harry in connection with some of the events since Christmas, now some of it made sense.
He was examining the wound in Harry's shoulder when the door to his cabin flew open. Headmistress McGonagall entered with her eyes blazing and her wand drawn. "What is going on here?" she demanded.