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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
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A/N: I read a pretty good Harry/Albus fic a while ago that got me curious. I went looking for an even more detailed and realistic version of this pairing and found myself disappointed. Thusly, I decided to write my own for the fun of it. Because of improbability of this pairing, this fic has resulted in a different angle on the overly used dimension travelling crap that I love so much. :)
Disclaimer: JKRowling owns all, as you very well know. I’m just buggering it all up for fun. (grins) Which means, some things will be utterly disregarded from the series.
Summary: Have you ever wondered if a realistic Harry/Albus pairing exists? So did I. So I wrote it. AU. Dimension travel. Vampire. Magical creatures politics. Warning: Slash. Duh. M/M. Yaoi. So NOT chan. Harry is an adult.
If you think this idea is grotesque, please do not read it just to tell me so. Thank you.
Lemon Drops and Blood Pops
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Chapter Two:
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Harry came to consciousness with a headache knocking around in his temple. His training already kicking in, he remained utterly still and kept his breathing in the steady rhythm of sleep. Spreading his bastardized vampire senses around him, he heard nothing, smelt only dust, and felt no objects or beings of magic nearby. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Hermione’s quarters. Before she had moved in. They were completely barren.
Sitting up in surprise, he frantically looked around the room for any sign of his best friend.
There was none.
Groaning when the pain from his head made itself known, he put a hand to his head to still the swirling room in front of him. It didn’t help. Becoming too nauseous to hold it in, he leaned over and emptied his stomach onto the floor. The feeling of sickness beginning to ease, he pushed himself away from the puddle of vomit and eased himself back onto the stone to rest. What was wrong with him?
It took nearly an hour of meditation for his body to recover enough for him to feel like moving was a good idea. He didn’t dare to let himself fall asleep again, as he was in a foreign location and had no Intel. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he sighed in relief when the world remained stubbornly in place around him. He pushed himself toward a wall, not wanting to fall flat on his face when he tried to stand. Fortunately, it seemed his body had mostly recovered from whatever had happened to it. He probably had his slightly quickened healing to thank for that.
Pulling out his wand, he waved it at the mess on the floor to vanish it and nearly collapsed again. His eyes widened in shock. How had he not even noticed?? He was running dangerously low on reserves. He berated himself for not noticing the state of his magic, knowing that if he’d cast any more powerful magic he probably would have passed out.
“Fuck!” he growled under his breath, sheathing his wand and leaning against the wall to support his weight. Just his fucking luck. He had no idea where he was, and only the fuzzy memories of Hermione in her office and a scroll of parchment gave him a clue. Closing his eyes, he tried to center his mind and get his emotions under control. It wouldn’t do him any good to freak out.
At least he had his emergency kit, he calmed himself. Every person from the Agency was required to keep emergency potions, clothes, food, and money stocked in their kit at all times. It was the first thing their Commander had pounded into all of their heads. Be prepared for shit, anytime, anywhere.
It had saved his life before, and it might just do it again.
Reaching into his mouth, he gave a twist and pull and knocked out his fake molar. Muttering the personalized spell, he tossed it onto the floor. It turned a miniature trunk, brown and simple looking. Going through the motions of unlocking the complicated warding, he had it open in ten seconds.
Pursing his lips, he stared at the collection of potions in front of him. Most of them were useless at the moment, as he was uninjured, but he had hidden in a compartment a potion he’d had Snape design specifically for when his magic was this low. Convincing the bastard to help him had taken a lot of work, but it was completely worth it. If he hadn’t had it, he wouldn’t have been able to defeat Voldemort in the Final Battle.
Rubbing his finger along the inside of the lid, the runes came to life and a vial melted out of the material. Grabbing it, he tossed it back and settled himself back against the wall. Snape had adapted the potion from an old ritual that allowed the user to become ‘one’ with nature. Harry had discovered that it did all of two things. It opened the sixth sense, that of magic, and it also widened the channels in the user’s body somewhat to let his or her magic flow freely. And so, Snape had designed the new potion to allow his magic channels to accept vast quantities of magic, instead of releasing. This allowed Harry to recharge his core much faster than would normally be physically possible.
No one had ever bothered to create such a method before, because nobody known in history took as long as Harry to recover from magical exhaustion. Even Dumbledore only took a week. The less you used your magic, the faster it regenerated itself. That was why agents, like aurors, were trained to use their magic in small bursts so they didn’t tire out their cores. A normal person took three to five days to recover their entire core after they spent it all. It took Harry three weeks. He didn’t know if he was the only freak who experienced this, as no one knew how long it had taken Merlin or Voldemort to recover. The bastard had leached off his followers constantly, so he had never gotten magically exhausted. It had made him extremely difficult to terminate.
So, since it was ill advised for Harry to be wandering around god-only-knew-where with a near-empty core, it was best to take the potion.
Slipping into meditation, Harry opened his senses to Hogwarts around him. His immediate connection gave him a headache when the school latched onto him and began prodding his magic to figure out what he was. He let her explore him, slowly opening the floodgates to let her magic recharge him. When she didn’t pull it back and refuse him, he let them open all the way and soaked it up. It would take a day for his body to turn the ambient magic into his own flavour, but this didn’t particularly bother him. He could still cast spells, they just weren’t as effective.
It took an hour of meditation for his core to fill, and Harry thanked his lucky stars that no one had found him here. It would be quite awkward if someone did. ‘Excuse me? Who are you and what the hell are you doing in an unused room?’ Yeah, that would go down sooo well.
Slowly opening his eyes, he wished pointlessly that it would become Hermione’s quarters instead of the dusty empty room it had been the last time he looked at it. When endless dust greeted his eyes again, he sighed. No such luck. How the hell had he gotten here anyway? Rubbing his forehead, he wished his memory would clear up. Maybe he’d hit his head?
Reaching over, he pulled back the vial holder that hooked onto the brim of the trunk, expecting to see his invisibility cloak inside. It was gone.
Panic welled up in his throat. What the hell? Nobody had access to this trunk! He’d checked it before visiting Hermione, Merlin’s balls! Where had it gone?
Putting a hand to his forehead, he cast a mild headache healing charm and tried to calm down and think. It was impossible for someone to steal it. There was no explanation for this. It had simply disappeared.
Fuck. Now he had to use spells that could be countered or detected.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed his mind and double checked his Occlumency shields. They were up and strong. After making sure that everything else in his trunk that was supposed to be there was, he closed it, changed it back into the tooth, and stuck it in his mouth.
Looking down at his robes, he cast a quick cleaning spell to take care of the dust. Next he cast all the stealth spells he knew, going so far as to use soundless and scent blocking charms. He slipped out of the portrait that lead into Hermione’s… well. The empty room.
“What’s this? Who just snuck out of me? I don’t recall letting anyone in.”
Harry mentally cursed. Stupid portrait. Oh well, it wasn’t like he had to explain himself to her. It would just be one more unexplained mystery at Hogwarts. Let her think it was a ghost, or something.
Not waiting around to see if she called a teacher or patrolling prefect, he slipped through the familiar, yet, not familiar walls of Hogwarts. Her magic felt similar, but not quite the same. It was a different flavour, and he was already losing the taste of it as his body converted it to his own. Shrugging it off as just one more odd thing he needed to figure out, he jogged toward the entrance hall. He needed to get out and regroup.
“Mr. Riddle, would you please wait a moment?”
Harry’s heart froze in his chest.
“What is it, Professor?” a polite voice asked, nearly oozing innocence.
Harry turned his head to the left to look in an adjacent corridor.
There stood Tom Marvolo Riddle, posed at the bottom of a set of stairs, staring upwards. Harry’s eyes moved to the colourful robe and auburn hair.
No
“I had a concern about a source you used in your last Transfiguration essay.”
No fucking way
“Really, sir? What about it?”
Harry stared as Dumbledore finally arrived at the bottom of the steps, a congenial smile on his face and a hard edge to his eyes.
“I was curious what book you got the information in the second paragraph from? The one concerning human transfiguration?”
Harry couldn’t see Tom’s expression, but he did see the way his left hand twitched slightly.
“Human transfiguration? Oh… hmm… Well, I used books from the library, but I’m afraid I can’t remember exactly which one I got the information from. Sorry, sir.” When Tom made to walk away, Dumbledore cleared his throat.
“I did not dismiss you, Mr. Riddle.” Harry could see Tom’s eyes now, since the boy had turned to face him. Annoyance flashed in the boy’s eyes before smoothing into innocent confusion as he turned around.
“Sorry, Professor. Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”
Dumbledore stared at him evenly for a few moments before speaking. “You and I both know that kind of information is found in the restricted section, Mr. Riddle.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Professor.”
“I am aware of your arrangement with Professor Slughorn.”
“I’m just doing a bit of extra studying for potions class, Professor. Professor Slughorn approves.”
“Does he check the titles of the books you take out?” Harry had only seen the same level of suppressed animosity from Dumbledore once before: in the memory the diary had shared with him in second year when Dumbledore had confronted Tom about the real creature that had killed Myrtle, not Hagrid’s spider. He couldn’t believe he was seeing this live.
“I’m sorry? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor. Can I please go to supper now?”
Dumbledore stared at him for a few minutes before nodding. Tom turned away, walking towards Harry with a small smirk on his face. Harry felt the strange urge to reach out and touch the boy as he walked by, to see if he was real. He didn’t, though, as that would completely destroy his cover.
Turning to look back at Dumbledore, he found the man squinting in his direction, and nearly cursed ten times aloud. Shit! Dumbledore might be able to see something. He was a powerful wizard, after all, and he’d always had a nose for trouble. His heart clenched at the idea of running away from his old mentor, but he knew he had to before Dumbledore started casting revealing spells in his direction. Nearly booking it out of desperation, he ran back the way he came and into an unused corridor, his mind already mapping out his escape route. It would be the long way around, but he’d be able to lose Dumbledore in the maze of corridors and secret passages.
When the blood pounding in his ears began to clear, and Harry heard no steps behind him, he finally began to calm down. He either lost him or Dumbledore hadn’t bothered to follow. Breathing a sigh of relief, incredibly glad he’d been so paranoid and cast a soundless charm on himself, he slowed his run to a jog, and then to a walk. His breath was slightly uneven from his little shock back there, but otherwise his training kicked in and kept it at a steady pace. It helped having some of the stamina of a vampire, too.
Poking his head out of the last hidden corridor before the entrance hall, he was grateful to see no students wandering around. He could already hear the din from the Great Hall, however. It appeared Tom had been heading to dinner.
Shaking away the confusing bag of worms that appeared with that thought, he made a break for the door, glanced around, spread his magic and half-vampire senses to make sure no one was watching, and snuck out into the night.
-Toki Mirage-
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Lemon Drops and Blood Pops