Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lemon Drops and Blood Pops	By : TokiMirage Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 12434 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JKRowling owns all that is Harry Potter. I own everything else. I make no money writing this.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Lemon Drops and Blood Pops
Warning: Sexual material
wWwWw
Chapter Ten:
wWwWw
Harry wished he was tired enough to barely remember to cast his espionage charms, but the truth was, he was still high off adrenaline from killing more than 30 people in the last 8 or so hours. Trying to knock this fact from the vampire-heavy hemisphere of his brain wasn’t working too well, either. Taking deep breaths and meditating as he walked up to the castle, he thought of bunnies and rainbows and assassinating leprechauns for their gold.
Crap.
Running a hand through his brown-again hair, he slipped through the doors of the Great Hall and made his way upstairs. He’d reset his clock, and it showed 7:52 PM, but he was pretty sure it was off by a minute or so. He didn’t really care. He just wanted to get to his portrait and sleep off the adrenaline, or work out, or something because he really needed to reboot his brain before he killed some poor student’s half-witted pet.
He made it to his portrait in record time, barely remembering to do the stupid ‘taptap… tap, taptap’ knocking ritual that he used every time he time-traveled. Which, illegally, he had done… well, more times than he could count on one hand. The Agency didn’t like them using time turners unless they absolutely had to, but Harry got away with plenty of things after killing the king pin of all Dark Lords of the 20th century.
After finishing his knock, he whispered the password and climbed inside the portrait. Perhaps the mindless cleaning of his weapons and checking supplies would help him unwind… He’d gotten rid of all the portraits in his room the first day he moved in, so he didn’t have to worry about Headmasterly spies, luckily.
Unfortunately, it was this mindset that he couldn’t get caught that got him with his pants down nearly an hour later when someone came knocking at his portrait. Looking down at the mess of weapons all over his floor, his expression just went totally blank. What does one do when…
He stripped butt-ass naked and dumped water on his head. Wrapping a conjured towel around his waist, he went to the portrait and stuck his head around the corner. Dumbledore, who had been smiling jovially and chatting with the portrait, turned to stare at the sliver of nearly-naked-DADA-professor standing in the portrait opening.
Harry smiled brightly for a moment before remembering that he was supposed to be depressed and worried. He masterfully manipulated the expression into a ‘happy-to-see-you-but-life-sucks-anyway’ face. “Ah, sorry, Albus, but do you think you could wait ten or so minutes? I need to get dressed.”
Dumbledore, apparently, had missed his expression entirely because he was staring at the water traveling down Harry’s chest. Snapping out of it nearly visibly, he turned his twinkle-vision on full power. “No problem, Harry! Shall I wait outside?”
Harry grinned nervously. “That may be best, thanks.” And with that said, he shut the portrait. “Aaawkwaaard,” he murmured under his breath, pulling off his towel before it could get in the way of cleaning up his weapons. He kicked it to the wall. He’d rather not trip on a towel and land on his sword, thank you.
As most of his weapons had been cleaned and oiled, he finished up the last few and methodically stored them back in his trunk. When everything had been returned to rights, seven minutes later, he closed the lid and popped the molar back into his mouth.
Three minutes later he was dressed, brushed, and dry. Not necessarily in that order.
Opening the door – wearing casual trousers, a button-up muggle shirt with the top three buttons undone, and no shoes at all – he invited Dumbledore into his rooms for the second time. He’d put some effort into making it look lived-in. It was hard for someone used to having the bear minimum, but he’d managed to find some interesting odds and ends, as well as some random but intriguing books to cover his empty shelves.
It was nothing like the trinket-covered and fascinating office of Albus Dumbledore, but he figured it was a good start. He needed more Dark Artsy stuff if he was to keep up his DADA ‘paranoid delusion illusion’. He grinned at the thought of the fake Mad-Eyed Moody’s office, with mirrors that showed shadows of your enemies and alarms that went off for seemingly no reason at all.
“It’s very nice, Harry. Much like a bachelor’s apartment.”
Harry blinked. Well, he hadn’t thought of that. Technically, he was a bachelor, so did that mean he didn’t have to find more random junk to throw about? “Er, thanks, Albus.” He wandered over to the chess board he’d bought at a thrift store in muggle London because he’d been fascinated with the roughly-carved metal pieces. It had been missing a few pawns, as well as a rook, but a little magic went a long way. He’d been doing some research in his down time to try to animate them. He couldn’t wait to see what little metal pieces with no arms or legs would do to try to kill each other. It was a terribly amusing thought.
“Have you heard back from your friend?”
Harry snapped out of his musing and realized he was being a terrible host. Or something. Quickly reorganizing his furniture, he set up two comfortable chairs to sit across from each other in front of the fire and put a table in the middle with the chess board sitting quietly off to the side. Next he went straight for the liquor cabinet. All without answering Dumbledore, which was exactly the plan. Show him you’re nervous and closed off. That’s what men do. Or so Hermione told him.
“Harry?”
A hand landed on Harry’s own, stopping it from pouring the liquor. He froze and blinked. Was his hand actually shaking? Maybe this wasn’t entirely acting. Since when did he get post-mission jitters, anyway?
Oh wait, since he hadn’t been on a freaking mission in more than ten flipping years.
He was definitely getting out of shape. It shouldn’t be this bloody difficult to wipe the memory of litres of blood and severed heads and hearts shooting blood out of arteries that had been cleanly sev-
He found himself with a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other moved to his elbow.
“Are you alright, Harry? Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get you the firewhisky.”
That sounded like a ridiculously good idea. He did as instructed, flicking his wrist to move his wand from the sheath on his forearm to his hand. He lit the fire with a whoosh of flame, not trusting his current concentration with wandless magic. He might light the whole room on fire. He sheathed his wand just in time for a glass of booze to be slipped into his numb fingers. Letting out a breath, he knocked back the whole glass, holding it out to be refilled. Dumbledore put another two fingers in, and this time he lifted his cold feet off the ground and curled up on the comfy armchair, sipping it.
Hogwarts always had the best furniture.
“Harry?” He looked up into concerned blue eyes. “Did you contact your friend, Harry?”
His friend? Oh right, that excuse. He was the friendly assassin who went and chopped off the heads of thirty men, or was it would be going to? Time travel always confused him. So did dimension travel, now that he thought about it… oh wait, Dumbledore had been asking him a question. What was it again? “Friend? Yes, I did. I contacted him. He… he said he’d take care of it.” He raised a hand to his face and rubbed at his eyes. God he was so tired. The adrenaline was finally starting to fade, as was the smell of blood that had been clogging his nose for the past few hours. He couldn’t smell it anymore, not after the twenty-minute shower he’d had the moment he walked through the portrait, but he knew it was there. Could see the slight tinge of brown in the cracks of his nails that only came with a lot of blood.
“Are you going to be alright, my friend?”
Going to be alright? Sure. He was just fine. He knew Darcy and Irene were going to be safe in… about seven hours. Until then, he needed an alibi and someone to be the shoulder he cried on.
Or something to that effect.
“I… I don’t know, Albus.” He looked up through his brown lashes, hoping the amber fire would bring out the brighter hues in the normally bland hazel eyes of his glamour. Seduction lesson one: use the eyes. Of course, in this case he was just trying to get Dumbledore to stay with him until the letter arrived, not actually seducing. He needed to inspire the maximum amount of pity in this situation, and if he was lucky, Dumbledore would do most of the work. “Could you just… could you stay? Please?”
Dumbledore nodded. “Of course I can, Harry.”
The half-vampire nodded and threw back the rest of his glass, holding it out for another refill.
“This friend of yours, Harry, how do you know that he won’t…”
Won’t what, get his girls killed? Perhaps Dumbledore was trying to be sensitive and not say it outright. Killed. Dead.
“I trust him, Albus. He… he won’t let me down.” He paused suitably. “He can’t let me down,” he said softer, sipping at his firewhisky and staring into the fire. It burned his throat pleasantly on the way down.
“How will you know if he… when he succeeds?”
Harry blinked and looked up from the fire into the worried blue eyes. “Something stupid. Like, a pig flooed through the fire. Or a paper bird through the window.” He shrugged. “He’s weird that way.” And he was weird that way. He’d let his fellow operatives know when to move, when to hide, by the oddest things. Like, a muggle rubber duck floating in the city square’s fountain. Or a random storm of snow in the middle of August. Just, weird things. And his fellow Agents had always been able to read into them, because they knew only he could come up with weird shit like a drunken transvestite accidentally knocking a martini full of acid into the target’s lap.
Ah, the good old days.
“Perhaps a game of chess in the meantime would keep your mind at ease?”
Harry pulled himself from his thoughts and tried for a smile. He was too tired to pull it off successfully, but in this situation it worked in his favour. Dumbledore had the board set magically in moments, and Harry let himself sink into the mindless manoeuvring of the metal pieces.
He woke to a warm hand nudging his shoulder, shaking him awake. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Wow, he had actually fallen asleep. “How long…?”
“You slept for five hours, my friend. There is an owl at the window. I was unsure whether you have wards, so I decided it best to wake you.”
Letting his numb legs fall to the floor, he winced as the circulation returned and pins started racing up his calves. “Merlin. What time is it?”
Dumbledore smiled. “Almost four in the morning, I’m afraid.”
Harry blinked. “You stayed?”
Blue eyes glowed warmly in the firelight. “You asked.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Blearily, he slowly stood from his chair, testing his legs to see if they would hold him. He hadn’t had the chance to cool down properly, so he’d be sore for the next few days, but it was all worth it. Making his way to the window, he managed to trip on a rug and nearly face plant into the wall before he caught himself. “Oops,” he murmured to himself. Wow. He must be really tired, relaxed or both, to be tripping. Lifting the ward on his window, he released the catch that held the glass panes shut. The bird came in out of the cold with a flutter of feathers. It hadn’t snowed yet, but Harry expected it to any day now. It was nearly the end of November after all.
“There appears to be a note, Harry. May I…?”
Harry nodded as he closed the window to shut out the cold. “Go ahead. What’s it say?”
“Mr. Under the Weather. Your merchandise has been returned safe and sound, tucked away in its proper packaging. If a miscommunication occurs again between our two companies, please be sure to contact me again. Hopefully, with the recent exchanging of words, this will not be necessary. Merry Christmas, Rudolf.”
Harry blinked. Had he really written that? He couldn’t suppress the giggle that escaped. In character, he reminded himself, in character. “That’s a relief.”
Dumbledore was watching him curiously, blue eyes tired. “A relief? Is this from your friend?”
“Yes. Only he has such a bizarre sense of humour. My girls should be back at home, safe and sound. Do you mind if I go and check on them?”
The Headmaster smiled. “Be glad it’s Friday. You can sleep in.”
Harry grinned and scratched at his head. “So can you.” Lowering his hand, he walked up to his old mentor, er, new mentor, whatever he was too tired to think and hugged him. “Thanks for sticking around,” he murmured into the warm fabric of the robes, letting himself find comfort in the smell that tickled the edge of his memories. Warm arms wrapped around his back.
“It was no problem at all, my friend.”
Harry let out a sigh and stayed for as long as would be normal before pulling himself away. He smiled tiredly up into blue eyes. “Thanks again. Rematch tomorrow?”
The Headmaster appeared confused for a moment before it clicked. “Ah, yes. Chess. I shall see you tomorrow. Perhaps you might bring your girls for a visit?”
Harry smiled. “Maybe. Only if they want to. I tried to drag them out to a Quidditch match once and it wasn’t well-received.”
Dumbledore laughed.
wWwWw
Harry apparated into the living room with a soft crack, and before he could so much as twitch a body had tackled him to the floor. He let himself fall back with a thud, smelling Irene’s lilac perfume. She was crying into his shirt.
Ignoring the pain in his back, he wrapped his arms around her and looked around for Darcy. She was standing nearby, looking like she wanted to join the dog pile. He smiled at her and waved her over. She didn’t tackle him, but she sat down on the floor next to them, running a hand over Irene’s back and gripping Harry’s proffered hand like it was a lifeline. He could see her valiantly fighting tears.
“Are you two okay? Are you hurt? Did anything happen?”
Darcy bit her lip. “W-we… we’re okay. Just a bit… shaken up. Irene was terrified, and… the man who rescued us. Who was he?”
Harry squeezed her hand gently before relaxing it again. “He’s an old friend. From before I came to Britain. I called in a… a favour.”
She nodded. “He was scary.”
Harry chuckled softly. If only she knew. “It’s sort of his job to be scary.”
“How did he… how did he get us free? I mean, he phoned, and said he was negotiating our release, but… he was covered in blood.”
Harry wondered how exactly he was supposed to answer that question. “Well, I don’t know exactly. I never ask for details. He just… said he’d take care of it. I got… I got a letter from a very bad man in Russia, telling me to close the store or he’d kill you two, and I didn’t know who else to… to ask for help.” He let out a shuddering breath.
Darcy squeezed his hand, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes before Harry moved them to the couch. Irene fell asleep with his hand in her hair on his lap, Darcy asleep against his shoulder.
wWwWw
“Harry!” Dumbledore called out with a bright smile as he staggered into the Great Hall the next morning. “Are the girls alright?” he asked softly, pouring Harry a cup of coffee with his wand.
The assassin smiled and accepted the drink with a flourish, wandlessly cooling it and chugging. Holding it out for a refill, he grinned sheepishly at the amused look on Dumbledore’s face. “They’re doing well. Shaken, but well. I offered them a week off work, but Darcy was adamant to get back to it on Monday. She’s quite the firecracker.” He smiled affectionately, taking a sip of his hot coffee. Speaking of brooms, Harry still had a custom one to finish for Sunday. He should probably check the exact date and location he was supposed to be dropping it off.
The Headmaster nodded with a relieved smile. “I’m pleased to hear they’re okay.”
“Yes, for a second there I thought everything might not work out.”
“Did you ask them if they’d like to come for a visit?” Dumbledore asked curiously.
Harry smiled. “Yes. And no, they won’t be visiting yet. They’re locking themselves in the house all weekend. Perhaps another time. But we’re still on for our chess match if you’re not busy tonight.”
Dumbledore nodded with a happy twinkle and opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted.
“Harry!”
Blinking, Harry turned his head to the left to see Minerva coming towards him with a frazzled look on her face. “Er, yes?”
“The next flying lesson is later today. I had meant to ask you yesterday, but couldn’t seem to find you anywhere.” She frowned. “Are you free to teach the class again?”
“Why, Minerva,” he began lasciviously, throwing his arm over the back of his chair for dramatic, sensual effect. A slight flush coloured her cheeks as he gave her his best bedroom eyes. “You don’t enjoy riding brooms? That’s such a shame.” She looked positively scandalized. “What’s in it for me if I ride the broom instead of you?”
Oh. He could see Dumbledore out of the corner of his eye. The look on his face was quite amusing, as Harry had indeed placed heavy sexual innuendo on that last one.
Minerva sputtered. “Why, I never!”
Harry blinked innocently. “I’m sorry? Did I say something offensive?” He adopted a look of fake epiphany. “Oh my, Minerva! What a dirty mind!”
Her face turned even redder, as by now a few of the other teachers were listening in and snickering into their goblets. “Will you teach the class or not?”
Harry let out a disappointed sigh. “Now, now, Minerva. You still haven’t given me enough incentive.”
“Incentive!” she exclaimed before an evil glint twinkled in her eyes. Harry froze like a cat in the headlights. “Albus,” she said, turning to the Headmaster. Dumbledore raised two questioning eyebrows. “I’ve been thinking for a while that perhaps it is best we delegate the flying lessons to a professor more qualified for the job. If it were given to a teacher with less duties, in comparison to being rotated through the Heads of Houses, the students could benefit from more plentiful and quality lessons. Especially after the new brooms were donated so generously to the school. It wouldn’t do for them to fly improperly and possibly damage one of them.”
Oh Minerva was devious. Harry pouted as Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “That is a rather good suggestion, Minerva. Did you have someone in mind?”
That damned twinkle! Dumbledore knew exactly who she was getting revenge on! If Harry were a cat, he would be hissing. Unfortunately, that position was already taken by McGonagall. Bitch.
Minerva smiled. Devious. “Why, Harry of course! He’s perfectly qualified for the position. And he’s been with the with the Gryffindors and Slytherins twice already. He’s a natural.”
Dumbledore turned those twinkling eyes on Harry. The assassin wanted to hurt something. Too bad Mrs. Norris wasn’t a permanent addition to the school yet. “Harry?”
He twitched. That entreating expression should be illegal. “Fine,” he bit out, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at them both. Minerva looked far too pleased with herself, and Dumbledore too amused.
“Wonderful!” the Headmaster said cheerfully, clapping his hands together with a jovial smile. “I’d like to thank you again, Harry, for donating the brooms to the school. It was very generous of you.”
The half-vampire waved it off dismissively. “I could hardly let the students fly around on age-old brooms that could die in the air and kill them, could I? I’d never look at a broom the same way again,” he bemoaned dramatically.
Those twinkling eyes crinkled in the corners. “I’m glad that you have relieved yourself of that guilt then, my friend.”
Harry took a dismissive drink of coffee, stubbornly ignoring the smug Minerva as she wandered over to an empty chair and started up a happy conversation with her neighbour. That cow.
“Do you enjoy teaching children how to fly, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, curious as he cut up some of his eggs and continued eating breakfast.
The assassin grunted and drank more coffee, contemplating his response for a moment. “Not really. At any moment one of them could get stupid and take the plunge.”
The Headmaster made a thoughtful sound. “Do you enjoy flying, though?”
“Yeah. I’ve always liked flying.”
“Is that why you went into the broom-making industry? You said during your interview that you had no passion for the job.”
Harry snorted. “Not really. It certainly helped me decide to take the plunge, but I started making brooms for another reason entirely. I believe you already know… part of it. The other reason was that it was easy for me. I’m rather good at enchanting them.” Actually, he took great pride in being able to create a spell on the spot depending on how dire his need was or how creative he was feeling at that moment.
“Well, I must say I am glad that you decided broom making wasn’t for you,” Dumbledore began cheerfully. “Otherwise I would not have found such a qualified Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
Harry grinned.
wWwWw
It was a week before Christmas when it happened. Harry wasn’t sure how the vampire got into the school, but he’d been doing a routine check of the hallways and defences when he discovered the trail of a shadow walk in the dungeons near the Slytherin dorms.
Cursing under his breath, he broke out into a full out run, hoping the vampire didn’t mean any ill towards one of his students, but knowing that was a false hope. He kept active the spells on his eyes that allowed him to see even better in the dark than his half-vampire traits allowed, as well as to see the trail of that particular vampire brand of magic that allowed them to bend shadows to their will. Vampires didn’t have human magic by any means, but they were still magical beings, and their particular abilities could make them even more deadly than a fully trained wizard.
Upon nearly stumbling past the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, he impatiently hissed ~open~ and burst through the opening. As it was nearly two in the morning, no one was awake in the common area, and the fire was a pathetic pile of embers. After tracing the vampire’s trail up one of the stairs, he broke the door with two brass name plates on it down with a wave of his hand.
One of the boys in the room lay unconscious on the floor, a cut bleeding on his head, while the other was about to be drained dry by the vampire latched onto his neck. He still thrashed in the man’s grip, but the vampire was too powerful for him.
Two glowing red eyes looked at him in surprise before he punched the vampire’s face in, dislodging him from the boy’s neck, as a spell could have hit both of them. Drawing his wand with a flick of the wrist, he cast a quick healing charm at the boy to prevent his neck from bleeding out before turning his full attention on the vampire who was breaking his nose back into place with a displeased sneer.
“Flee, human. This doesn’t concern you,” the vampire hissed, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it.
Harry snorted. He wished he had his sword, but if it came down to it he could just conjure one. He needed to store his weapons in a better place than his molar. He’d thought he wouldn’t require it in the haven of Hogwarts’ wards, but apparently he was wrong. It wouldn’t do to be so unprepared again. “This does concern me, vampire. He is a student, and therefore under my protection. You will leave this school immediately or I will cut off your head.”
The vampire hissed a laugh, and the sound grated on Harry’s ears. “Well, this is a surprise. A human that warns first before slaughtering one of my kind.” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t even know who, what, this student is, human. How would your sentiments change if you knew he was nothing more than a half-vampire. A monstrosity of nature.”
The student behind him gasped, but Harry just let out a snort. “The only thing monstrous in this room is your attitude,” he taunted, wand at the ready, not showing an ounce of his surprise at there being another half-vampire in existence.He’d thought it was impossible, especially as the half-vampire was being educated in magic. And vampires couldn’t cast magic.
The assassin was fast, he’d give him that. But Harry was experienced with fast. The nonverbal sectumsempra shredded the vampire that dared to underestimate him into a fountain of blood and twitching limbs. The screech that echoed through the room hurt his sensitive ears, but he ignored it as he went in for the kill and severed the vampire’s head from his shoulders with a cutting curse before he could recover from the wound and attack again.
It hit the ground with a thud and rolled under one of the beds. Ignoring the puddle of blood spreading across the dungeon stone, he turned his attention back to the student on the floor. “Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step closer to check for more injuries. It didn’t seem like the boy had lost too much blood. He was still conscious, after all.
Said Slytherin was staring at him in shock. “Y-you aren’t going to kill me too?”
Harry gaped. “Excuse me?! I just saved your ass. Why would I kill you?”
The young boy looked away nervously for a second before returning his eyes to Harry as if waiting for him to strike. “B-because he said that I’m… that I’m…”
Harry snorted. “Ridiculous. What kind of opinion do you have of me that you think I’d kill a student in cold blood? Even a half-vampire one. Not going to happen. Now, let me look at that neck of yours. I don’t know if my charm healed it well enough.” Kneeling on the floor, he ignored the way the student stared at him as if he were crazy. Pulling the boy’s hand from his neck wound, he hummed thoughtfully under his breath and cast another healing charm at the pink flesh, healing the scar tissue completely and leaving no remnant behind. “There. Flesh wounds healed,” he said, getting up and moving over to the unconscious student on the floor. After running a diagnostic charm, he was relieved to see that he only had a light concussion. He healed the wound, picked the boy up, and placed him gently on the bed.
Looking up, he saw the half-vampire was still staring at him in disbelief. “What?” Harry asked impatiently.
The student’s jaw opened and closed for a few moments before words came tumbling out of his mouth. “You don't care? That I’m half-vampire? That another vampire just tried to kill me?”
Harry blinked. “I just saved you. Of course I care that another vampire was trying to kill you. Now can you please get over this struck dumb routine? It’s getting old. What’s your name? I remember seeing you in my classes, but my memory’s not all that great.”
“R-ruben. Ruben Vale.”
Harry nodded. “Well Mr. Vale, I do believe we should see the Headmaster and drop your poor roommate off at the hospital wing.”
Two dark eyes widened in shock. “No! You can’t! If he finds out about me, I’ll be expelled from Hogwarts!”
Harry laughed, and Ruben’s face turned dark with anger. “Albus would never do that. He treats magical beings equally. As long as you weren’t a threat to the students, which I’ll assume you aren’t as none have died mysteriously from blood loss lately, then he’ll be happy to let you stay. Besides, you have no say in the matter. A vampire assassin came after your neck and injured another student.”
Ruben’s eyes widened. “S-surely he’ll expel me for that? Getting another student hurt?”
The other half-vampire rolled his eyes. “Hardly. We’ll merely have to make some adjustments to the wards of Hogwarts. It’s not your fault a vampire managed to sneak inside.” He scowled viciously. “One shouldn’t have been able to in the first place. It’s better that we find out about this weakness now than during a war or something.” He grinned.
Ruben’s wide eyes started to glisten with tears of relief, making Harry feel distinctly awkward. Before the kid could start singing his praises, he floated the unconscious student’s body off the bed and started walking to the busted door. “Come on. We’ll drop by the hospital wing first.” With an absent wave of his hand, he fixed the broken door, as his wand was keeping the student floating off the floor. Ruben watched him do this with wide eyes, and Harry was beginning to think ‘bug-eyed’ was a look for him. Mentally snickering to himself, he dubbed that the boy’s new nickname.
After they had exited the Slytherin dorms, Ruben finally got up the courage to open his mouth. “Um, Mr. Underwood? How did you get into the dorms?” he asked curiously.
Harry blinked. Well, technically only the Heads of Houses knew their House’s password. And Ruben didn’t know he was a half-vampire, as Harry build scent-covering charms into his glamour, so he couldn’t use shadow walking as an excuse. When in doubt, bullshit your way out. “I like to know the passwords to all the dorms in order to keep the students safe. It’s not really my official job as DADA professor, but more… a self-appointed one. I would feel very bad if I were able to protect a student and failed to do so. Like tonight, for example. If I hadn’t been patrolling, you would be dead.”
When Ruben looked down at the floor – ashamed or afraid Harry didn’t know – the assassin mentally smacked himself. Of course, idiot, remind the poor kid he almost got offed tonight. That’ll make him feel better. Not really knowing what to say to fix his mistake, he kept his mouth shut, suddenly missing the way Hermione could jump in and sooth a social blunder Harry made with practiced ease.
After dropping the body off at Madame Mercer’s infirmary (and waking her up), Harry took the forlorn student up to the sixth floor and Dumbledore’s office. He didn’t really know what to say to cheer the student up, so he figured he’d just leave that to Dumbledore’s lemon drops. Oh wait, the older man wasn’t addicted to them yet… Harry still hadn’t fixed that. The Headmaster was getting a giant box of them for Christmas, Harry vowed.
Standing in front of the gargoyle at half past two in the morning, Harry frowned. How come every one of the teachers except him seemed to have the password to Dumbledore’s office? He really needed to ask about that. It was getting annoying. “If you don’t open up right now, gargoyle, I’m going to turn you into a pile of rubble.”
The stone was silent.
“Damn,” Harry cursed to himself. Well, there was no helping it. He’d have to send a patronus message or spend the next ten or more minutes guessing the password. Flicking his wand into his hand, he focused on what the guardian would appear as. He hadn’t cast this spell for years, as the Dementors had been wiped off the face of the planet near the end of the war, so he had no idea if it was still a stag. Shrugging to himself, he just focused on the spell and the message, and cast it.
A white owl popped out of the edge of his wand, making him blink. It wasn’t Hedwig, no, it was too big. And then it clicked. Hermione’s animagus form had been an owl. With sad eyes, he watched the patronus fly through the stone and into the office. He was pretty sure Dumbledore’s rooms were located not far off, but as he’d never been in them he actually had no clue.
Thankfully, they didn’t have long to wait. A few minutes later the gargoyle jumped to the side to reveal Dumbledore, dressed in blue pyjamas with yellow stars, eyes puzzled. They started twinkling upon the sight of Harry, but both eyebrows rose at the sight of the student hiding behind him. “Harry? What happened?”
Harry kept his disposition professional. “Perhaps it’s best we spoke in your office, Albus.”
Alarmed now, the Headmaster stepped to the side and let them onto the moving stairs. After they’d made themselves relatively comfortable in the office, and Albus had set them all up with a cup of tea, Harry didn’t bother to sugar coat it and just started right in. “A vampire managed to get past the wards tonight.”
The older man paled behind his desk and sat back in his chair with a breath of air. “Do you know how?” he asked after a moment. “The wards should have prevented anyone with intentions of harm from coming into the school. Vampires especially.”
Ruben tensed in the chair next to Harry, so the DADA professor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment. “I don’t know why. The wards have either weakened, or the vampire figured out another way to get past. Either way, we need to strengthen the wards to prevent this from happening in the future. It was only by chance that I discovered the shadow trail and followed it back to the vampire’s victim. Mr. Vale here.”
Dumbledore turned his weary and saddened eyes on Ruben. “I am truly sorry for what has happened, Mr. Vale. I had been under the impression that my students were safe from such attacks, but apparently it isn’t so. How are you doing?”
Ruben ducked his head with a blush. Dumbledore’s singular attention was quite daunting the first time he held you under his gaze. “F-fine, sir.”
He nodded and turned back to Harry. “Do you know why a vampire would come after Mr. Vale? It seems unlikely that a vampire would come to a heavily protected school merely for food.”
Harry wondered how he should put this. Should he mention that Ruben was a half-vampire? It was his duty to tell the man, as a professor and a friend, but as a half-vampire… But Dumbledore would never tell anyone or expel Ruben. And if there was a… deeper reason for the attempted assassination – as that was what it had been – Ruben might rather Dumbledore blame it on his half-vampire status than some sort of blood feud related to said status. “He’s a half-vampire, Albus. As you know, half-breeds aren’t treated well by either society they are part of. I believe this is the reason the vampire came after him.”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened and Ruben went stiff as a board in the seat next to him. “Oh my.” He turned soft eyes on Ruben, who was staring determinedly at the floor. “You need not fear I will expel you, Mr. Vale,” he said kindly, and the student relaxed slightly and glanced up through his messy hair. “You have not harmed a single student during your stay here, and I don’t foresee why that can’t continue. Do you require a special diet that we can handle discreetly? Or do you need to leave the castle periodically to go hunting?”
Ruben’s eyes were wide with surprise and wonder. “Y-you’d… you’d do that for me?”
Dumbledore twinkled. “Of course, my boy. And perhaps it would be a good idea to contact your parents or guardians concerning recent events?”
He nodded quickly and winced. “Uh, yeah. Father’s going to be furious. I can… I can floo him if you want.”
“Perhaps that is best,” Dumbledore said, waving his wand at the fire. “Floo powder is on the side table, Mr. Vale.”
The student nodded and got up, and immediately he swayed and would have fallen over if Harry hadn’t caught him. Alarmed, the half-vampire started casting diagnostic charms. “Are you alright?” he asked, keeping his eyes steady on the student’s fuzzy gaze.
“I… I think I need blood.”
“What’s your father’s floo address? We need to get him here immediately.”
The slightly-out-of-it student rambled off an address and Dumbledore quickly moved over to the floo and fire-called. Harry kept his attention solely on Ruben. “Why didn't you tell me you were feeling the blood loss?” he asked angrily. “I’m trying to keep you alive here and you’re not making it easy.”
But Ruben was losing himself to the hunger. His dark eyes began to burn a lighter brown, fangs extending. If Harry didn’t do something soon, the boy was going to attack either him or Dumbledore. Cursing under his breath about stupid fledglings not feeding before the hunger too over, he pulled up his sleeve and brought his wrist to the vampire’s mouth. Two fangs sank in with a sharp pain, but Harry didn’t react. He’d been injured worse before. This was a mosquito bite.
“Harry?” Dumbledore asked warily as the floo whooshed and a tall and forbidding figure burst out of it.
The half-vampire raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore the way Ruben sucked away at his blood as if he were dying of thirst. “Yes?” he asked, completely blasé as if a vampire hadn’t sunk fangs into his wrist.
Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome looked like he didn’t know who to start accusing first. Finally, he asked, “What the hell happened here, Mr. Dumbledore?”
Not wanting the vampire – he could smell that the man was a vampire – to bend blame in Dumbledore’s direction when it wasn’t the Headmaster’s fault, Harry quickly jumped to his rescue. “Your son was attacked by another vampire. I saved his life.”
Dumbledore looked at him, amused for some reason, but Harry had eyes only for the vampire who was looking at him like he didn’t know what to think.
“And you seem to know of his…” the man trailed off, watching his son feeding from Harry’s arm.
“Yes. We know he’s a half-vampire. How much longer do you think he needs to feed before he’s fine? I’m starting to get dizzy.”
The vampire moved forward purposely, putting a hand on the back of Ruben’s neck and pulling gently. “Ruben,” he said in a rumbling baritone. He frowned when the half-vampire didn’t even seem to notice him. Pulling back one of the boy’s eyelids, he gasped at the sight of his eyes burning light brown. “You have very powerful blood, Mr…”
“Underwood,” Harry filled in, beginning to feel annoyed with this whole situation.
“Mr. Underwood. He won’t let go unless you are deemed a threat. He’s fallen too far into his instincts.”
Harry scowled. “Not a threat?” The absurdity of the whole situation caught up with him, and he snarled with his vampire instincts at the little blighter on his arm sucking all of his blood out of him. Stupid vampire not helping him get the leech off.
Ruben was up and away from him with a scurry of movement, glowing eyes wide, and Harry tongued his extended fangs. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, reaching into one of his endless pockets filled with blood pops. Pulling the plastic off three, he shoved them into his mouth.
“You’re…” the vampire father’s eyes were wide as he stared at him, ignoring his son who was trembling against a bookshelf.
Harry raised an annoyed eyebrow, knowing the glamour had weakened over his eyes. He needed to figure out a way to keep that from happening. He couldn’t have his vampire features bugging out of his glamour every time he saw blood or got in one of these situations. It would bite him in the ass one of these days.
“You’re a half-vampire too,” the vampire said, wonder in his tone.
Harry stared into those dark red eyes. “Great observational skills,” he bit out sarcastically after removing the blood pops from his mouth for a moment. Pulling himself off the ground, he brushed imaginary dirt off his robes. “Albus, will you be alright if I leave? I really need to feed.”
The older man nodded. “I believe so.”
Harry nodded and turned his killing curse green eyes on the vampire. “If you harm or kill him in some misguided attempt to keep your son’s secret, I will wipe out your entire coven and burn you slowly at the stake. We clear?” The vampire nodded with an amused quirk of the lips. “Good.” He walked over to a shadow in the wall and slipped through, travelling to the Forbidden Forest.
Knowing Dumbledore was more than capable of smoothing the situation over, he wasn’t really concerned about not being there. He could talk to the Headmaster later about the weakness in the wards. In the meantime, Dumbledore was more than capable of putting up wards around Ruben’s quarters so he could sleep at night. Harry knew a lot of defensive and offensive magic, and enough about warding to keep his ass safe, but Dumbledore had decades of knowledge over on him. Thus, Harry could focus on the hunt without worrying for the other man.
He had just finished draining the blood out of a rabbit when a stick snapped nearby. He spun around, wand in hand, to see Ruben’s father walk out of the shadows. Relaxing his stance slightly, he threw the rabbit a few feet away, watching as the vampire’s eyes followed the body as if unconcerned that Harry could kill him in an instant if he weren’t paying attention.
“So you saved my son,” the vampire drawled in that low baritone. Harry couldn’t help notice how attractive the man was. He hadn’t had sex in over ten years, so it was no surprise that he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. He needed to get laid. Maybe he’d visit a brothel in France. It was an easy thing for him to apparate international, and without anyone tracing it. “I am Aldon Vale. You are…?”
Harry pulled his mind out of the gutter. “Harry Underwood.”
The vampire stalked closer, sniffing the air. “I cannot smell that you are vampire, only that you are human. How is this?”
The half-vampire shrugged. “Good spellwork.”
Aldon nodded. “The spell Ruben is using currently… is not very effective. Would you consider teaching him yours?”
Harry thought about it for a moment. Really, what did it matter if the boy knew how to keep himself undetected to other vampires? It would save the assassin some effort. He wouldn’t have to worry about the kid getting sniffed out again. “I don’t see why not,” he conceded, licking his lips clean of blood.
Two slightly-glowing red eyes darted down to watch the movement, and the vampire moved closer. “You do not want payment?” His voice rumbled pleasantly in Harry’s ears.
The assassin raised an eyebrow. “Payment for what?”
Aldon moved even closer, beginning to worry Harry. “For saving my son’s life. For teaching him how to keep himself protected from other vampires.”
Harry thought about it for a moment. He shrugged. “The only thing you can give me is your silence concerning the fact that I am also a half-vampire. If it got around I could lose my job and my business.”
Aldon nodded. “Is that all?” he asked, only two feet away from Harry now. The half-vampire watched with constantly-analyzing eyes as a hand rose and gently caressed his cheek.
Harry nodded sharply. “That is all,” he said, moving to put some distance between them.
Aldon didn’t let him, and Harry found himself pinned against a nearby tree. The vampire leaned in closely and breathed his neck. “I hate not being able to smell the vampire in you. I can smell the power, oh yesss,” he hissed, “but not your vampire blood.”
Harry tensed. He’d never had a vampire come onto him before. “Really? Fascinating. Think you can let me go now?” he asked, testing the waters even as his lower regions began to take notice of the hard body pressed against him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to fuck a vampire. It was a rather dangerous activity.
Aldon smirked and latched onto his neck. If he had sank his fangs into Harry’s neck, he would have found his head cut off, but he didn’t bite. He just kissed and nibbled and teased until Harry found his head falling back under the sensation and blood flowing to his extremities. The vampire bumped his hip between his legs, making Harry groan and buck into it. Fuck, it had been so long since he’d gotten laid. He couldn’t… control himself-
Another moan burst from his throat as the vampire slipped a hand into his pants and gripped him. He wanted to kick Aldon off him, really, he did, but he couldn’t seem to make his body move. It just felt too good after too long abstaining. He jacked off like any healthy man, but he hadn’t felt the need to fuck someone until this vampire had just come onto him with that aura of sex that all vampires had and proceeded to do a number on his libido.
He let himself give in to the pleasure, but kept his senses alert and aware of possible threat. Just because the vampire was indebted to him for saving his son’s life didn’t mean that there weren’t dishonourable vamps out there that would kill him after sex.
And then the vampire kissed him, and it was one of the hottest kisses he’d had in years. He’d fucked rent boys before, during long undercover missions where the only way to vent your frustration sometimes was sex, but none of them had had mouths this talented. There was no emotion behind it, no affection or feeling, but desire, and it burned a hole in his brain and pushed him to the brink. He came with a soft groan and let his face be kissed and licked by the vampire afterwards, wanting to enjoy the haze a little bit longer.
His magic relaxed when the vampire pulled his hand out of Harry’s pants under his robes and licked the appendage clean, moving away to give Harry space to recover. The smug smirk on his face made Harry want to cut off one of his limbs, but he was in too good of a mood from the pleasant sensations still licking through his body like fire. He raised an eyebrow. “Was that payment as well?”
Aldon’s smirk widened. “No. That was for my own pleasure.”
Harry closed his pants and cleaned up the mess with an absent wave of his hand, and the hungry look in the vampire’s eyes brightened their glow again. “That won’t be happening again,” he stated firmly, wanting to cross his arms across his chest and glare, but unwilling to hinder his movements if the vampire decided to attack.
Aldon laughed. “You enjoyed it, so what is the problem?” He licked his lips and looked up and down Harry’s form suggestively.
The assassin scowled. “I don’t make it a habit of fucking people who can kill me. Period. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving.” He turned to shadow walk through the tree, but an hand wrapped around his arm. Before the vampire could react, he had the arm pulled behind his back and a conjured knife held to his jugular.
Aldon chuckled. “You are a warrior. I respect that.” He turned his head to face Harry, completely unconcerned about the knife at his neck. “I find it very… alluring. As well as your power. Did you know it pours off of you like scent of sex after lovemaking?”
Harry glared at him. “I don’t care how alluring you find it. I’m not interested.” He shoved the vampire away and pulled back, but kept the conjured knife in his hand. “Good luck with the assassins after your son,” he said sharply, ignoring the surprised look on the Aldon’s face and sank into the shadows.
Thankfully, the vampire didn’t follow him.
Feeling dirty for some odd reason, Harry rematerialized in Dumbledore’s office. The man’s expression brightened, and Harry felt even more guilty. Damnit. Why was he feeling this way? It was illogical. “Hello, Albus,” he greeted, trying to keep his reactions friendly and cheerful like they usually were.
Dumbledore twinkled back at him. “Hello, Harry. Are you feeling better now?”
The half-vampire nodded and sat down in one of the chairs. “Did you want to discuss the wards tonight?”
The Headmaster shook his head. “After Mr. Vale’s father left, I took him back to his dorms and cast a ward on his rooms. He should be protected for the rest of the night until the staff can deal with the school wards during the Christmas holidays. It is my hope that we’ll be able to fix the problem before he returns in January. If not, I’ve advised him to remain in his rooms when it is dark out, or to remain in the presence of you or myself. As long as he takes out the proper materials from the library, his marks shouldn’t suffer until we have this problem under control.”
Harry nodded and relaxed in his chair. The pleasant tingle had dissolved to an uncomfortable itch. “Sounds good. I’ll let you get some sleep then?”
Dumbledore smiled. “You should get some sleep as well, Harry.”
The half-vampire snorted softly to himself. “Not likely to happen tonight. I’ll try to get a few hours, though,” he said, standing from his chair.
The Headmaster nodded. “Pleasant dreams, Harry.”
The assassin glanced back as he opened the door to leave, offering a small smile. “You too, Albus.”
-Toki Mirage-
(whistles) Phew! This chapter took two months to finally figure itself out. I’ve been writing chapter after chapter of Bloody Skies lately, this story has been sorely neglected. Of course, now that I have an idea of where I’m taking the story, chapters may be more forthcoming. Of course, I also unfortunately have to go back to school in a month… c’est la vie. :P
Thanks for reading!
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Lemon Drops and Blood Pops