Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Yeah… Slightly darker side of Harry shows up in this chapter. He's not evil, just slightly darker than cannon… you'll see what I mean. Oh, and this is slightly AU in the fact that Sirius is alive =D

The Beautiful People

Chapter 2: A Plan in motion.

Hermione hadn't seen Harry in a week. Not since that night on the bridge. They'd sat and talked about everything and anything, yet nothing substantial. He wouldn't say where he'd been or what happened to him, just that he was sorry that he couldn't see her sooner, and he definitely couldn't go up to the castle just yet.

But then he'd left her to go back to… wherever he'd been before then. He'd walked her up to the edge of the forest, and hugged her goodbye, then she'd felt his eyes burning into her back as she walked away, watching her until she'd made it safely back into the castle before disappearing back into the night. Why was it that he only came to see her and not Ron, or anyone else for that matter?

Surely they were just as important as she? He also made her swear not to tell anyone that he was safe. He said that he 'had a plan' and that he needed in to continue to run smoothly. She'd had no choice but to trust him and hope that he would come back soon.

At least she knew he was safe.

"Hermione? Are you alright? You've gone quiet again."

Ron and Ginny were looking at her with almost identical looks of concern. She shook her head. "I'm fine. Just lost in thought."

"You never did tell us what was so important about that paper…?" said Ron cautiously. "Lavender told Seamus that you were out all night."

She smiled. "It was nothing, just an article that was… misprinted. I initially went up to my dorm but… Harry popped into my head again and I needed to get some fresh air. I just lost track of time, that's all."

Ginny sighed. "He's gone, Hermione. You need to let him go."

"No, he's not." She whispered, refusing to look at either of them. "He'll come back, I can promise you that."

And with that she stood and left them sitting in the Gryffindor common room, undoubtedly talking about her. But it didn't matter anymore. Because she knew, he was coming back.

Harry had never been able to control it. That undeniable need for sustenance, for the rush, and the satisfaction that came from only one source. Blood. Out of everything that he'd originally tried to suppress that came with being a Vampire, that was the one thing that he couldn't seem to shake. He needed it to survive, for the most part yes. But he could still live without it, should he try.

And he had, desperately so. He'd hated everything about being the monster he was, hiding away and isolating himself from the rest of the world. But then one day, walking down the streets of Cardiff, it hit him. He realized that he didn't need to hold back. Why should he? It was as much a part of him as his magic was. Why should he have to suffer? Surely he, out of anyone else deserved the right to live for once.

To enjoy life, damned the consequences. He probably wouldn't have even came to such a conclusion were it not for the fact that a young girl, maybe a few months older than he had crossed his path as he meandered down an alley, in the shadows. She'd paid him no notice, why would she? He was quieter and more agile than any other living thing, and hidden away in the darkness, she couldn't hear him, or see him, and it would have been so easy to sneak up and grab her, to drink her dry. Just this once.

What harm would it do? To anyone other than her, obviously. She was one person, out of the entire population of Wales, and she'd just so happened to cross his path just as he was contemplating exactly why he was to be burdened with this curse. At that one second when he'd decided that he, of all people, should have gotten the chance to live his life for once, even if it was just for a little while.

Then that wonderful smell had hit his senses, that of warm, fresh blood pumping through someone's veins. She was the first person he'd come across in weeks, and she smelled heavenly. Mouth watering, even. The sound of her heart thudding in her chest, blood shooting up through her body, flushing her cheeks in the warm weather. Then everything had seemed to slow, and it had been out of his hands.

Suddenly he was behind her, one arm grabbing her roughly around the middle from behind, yanking her back into his chest, his other hand over her mouth before she could even open it to scream. And then his teeth were sinking into the hot skin of her neck and Merlin was it delicious. More than he could have ever imagined. He could feel it rushing down her neck past his mouth onto the back of her t-shirt and the front of his. How could he have ever so much as thought of depriving himself of this?

Before he knew it, too soon, was his first thought, he was letting her go, and she hit the ground with a dull thud. It was midnight, on a Wednesday, down a dark alley; no one was going to come by anytime soon, he didn't have to worry about that. Moaning to himself he fell back against the wall and looked up at the stars shining down upon him. But then he made the mistake of looking down at his prey and cringed.

Her glassy brown eyes were still wide-open in shock, and her blonde hair was matted with blood. It was still there, gushing from the wound and onto the floor below her, covering her t-shirt even more than it had been before. The elation and satisfaction that had came with the feed, the rush that came with the kill left him as quickly as it had came. He suddenly felt sick, ashamed at what he'd done, revolted by the fact that the pure euphoria of the feeling of her blood rushing straight from her warm neck to his had turned him on so severely that he was actually wishing he'd fucked her first. Or at the same time. Either way would have made the experience so much more satisfying.

It was a sickening thought. It felt perverted and wrong and he hated himself for taking her life. Yet, all the same, it had felt amazing. What the hell was wrong with him?

He'd gone 'home', a large apartment Cardiff, well away from where anyone would look for him, and had thrown himself straight into the shower, washing away the blood. But somehow that hadn't seemed enough. He had no idea what to do with himself. At one side of his mind he was contemplating how amazing it had felt, and how much better he felt then after feeding, rather than living on nothing, food and drink not doing anything to keep him 'alive'. But on the other he was likening himself to Tom Riddle, the carelessness of killing an innocent girl for his own needs, and the same side was thinking of how devastated that girls family would be, and what Sirius would think of him.

It had happened twice more in the coming month, completely out of his control, unable to stop himself. But after another month and a half of 'mistakes' he stopped caring, not seeing his 'victims' as people, just objects. Like in a game. It wasn't real. They didn't have a life before what he did to them, not to him. He just stopped thinking about it.

Eventually though, he came across a snag. What about his friends, his godfather? Surely they were worried about him, had been looking for him. He'd been missing for 3 months by this point, and he couldn't help but want to see someone, anyone. But maybe it would have been better for them if he stayed in hiding. He could hurt them, or worse, get them killed. Voldemort was still on the loose.

Voldemort.

Then the memory of the prophecy had hit him with full force and he realized what he needed to do. All it would take was a little planning.

Sirius nearly jumped out of his skin as a loud pop shot right through him, coming from the hallway outside the kitchen. He stood immediately, wand drawn. No one could apparate into headquarters directly. Not while it was unplotable and under the fidilius charm.

Rounding the corner of the archway up into the main hall he saw no other than Harry Potter standing at the bottom of the stair case staring right at him. He lowered his wand without even realizing it. "…Harry?"

"Yeah, it's me. It's been six months, and I've already been to see Hermione, I figure you're next on my list."

His godfather just stared at him agog. "You… where the hell have you been!?" he demanded suddenly.

Harry smiled. "Somewhere terrible. But don't worry; I definitely enjoyed myself from time to time. How are you?" he asked deftly.

"I'm… fine. We thought you were dead, Harry. What the hell happened?"

Harry walked forward and grabbed Sirius' arm, pulling him toward the study. Luckily he just went along with it, though, obviously surprised by his strength. Harry closed the door, locked and silenced the room and then turned back to his godfather. "Is there anyone else here?"

"The orders due to arrive any minute, Tonks and Remus are upstairs in the library. Why?"

He sighed. "Better be quick then, I have to be back by 5 and I can't be held up by that lot."

"But why - what do you mean 'back' you're staying here right? You need to tell me exactly what happened, Harry!" He could see Sirius getting angrier by the second, after answers.

So he gave them to him. He walked across the room and around the desk to the old covered blackboard behind it. Only, while to him it was walking, evidently it seemed a whole lot faster to Sirius, who made an undistinguishable noise, falling back into a seat nearby. Harry threw the cover off spun the board around to clear the dust and picked up a piece of chalk, his hand moving quickly across the board, so fast Sirius couldn't even see what he was writing.

"No…" he moaned. "No, that's not fair. You can't be…"

Harry smiled and stood back, a series of Symbols on the board. "Oh but I am." He walked back over to Sirius and looked down at him with a sad expression on his face. "I need you to remember that for me, it's important and I can't forget it."

"Who did this to you?" he whispered, standing up.

"I don't know." Harry replied darkly. "But whoever he is he'll be dead before he knows it."

"Is that why you left? Because you're a-"

"No. I didn't want to leave. I nearly died. And then… well the rest doesn't matter. At first, yes, I did hide away. But I recently realized that there's no need. I have a plan Sirius. And I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Hermione: You can't tell anyone you saw me. I want to come back but I can't just yet… I'll keep in touch, I promise."

Sirius strode across the room to envelope him in a tight bear hug. "Why can't you stay?"

"Because there's stuff that needs to be done first."

Sirius seriously contemplated knocking him out and keeping him there against his will for a moment before nodding, trusting him to come back safe. He was of age, he could do what he liked, godfather or not. "Okay. Just… be safe, and please, come back soon."

Harry nodded once, turned, and disappeared from sight just as the doors to Grimmauld Place banged open and Mrs Black's portrait started shrieking.

A/N: see what I mean? A bit darker than cannon… and Sirius is alive… and I'm so sorry for the delay, I'll try and update faster next time!

Dead On Impact

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