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Harry Potter and the Lord of the Night	By : Demonized Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 19399 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money off of this work. Kyrios, however, is my original character, and is not from any other fandom whatsoever.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
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- 3
What should have been a mere twenty-minute trip into the southern part of London turns out to be nearly double that, if not more, and it ends up with him in Central London. He had hailed a cab within a few minutes of leaving Surrey because staying out in the rain, while fine for just him, is not good for little Harry Potter. Thankfully the child is completely dry when he checks on him in the backseat of the cab and sleeping soundly.
"The closest hotel, please," Kyrios requests, just as the cabby starts driving. There is a good deal of hotels all throughout London, but he needs to get indoors as soon as possible so that he can tend to the bleeding scar on Harry's forehead. It is only when they pass by the first couple of hotels that he saw does he start to get irritated. "Stop the car," he says in a low, dangerous tone, his eyes flashing with warning.
"I have me orders, sir, so sit tight and enjoy the ride," is all the cabby relays, his voice a bit rough.
Kyrios grits his teeth and glares daggers into the back of the man's head, who is saved due to the child's presence. "Then step on it," the vampire grits out, holding back a snarl.
The minutes tick on, leaving the ancient Greek no less pissed off that he is being spirited away without a choice in the matter. Sure, he could have gotten out of the car at a stoplight, but they have hit very few, which in hindsight seems odd. Finally, the cab stops in front of a grand looking mansion, though the plaques up on each side of the entry doors indicate that the mansion is The Milestone Hotel.
"This here's your stop, sir. No charge to you." The cabby gives him a toothy grin, and once he is out of the vehicle it pulls off and drives away into the night.
There is a nicely-uniformed man standing outside of the entry door who comes down with the umbrella that is held out over Kyrios. "Welcome to The Milestone Hotel, sir. Please come inside from the rain."
"Thanks," the vampire intones and make his way inside the hotel lobby. It is a grand place with polished marble tile floors, nice medium wood trim, and a matching polished wooden front desk. LKyrios approaches the desk, looking no worse for wear than when he had left Number Four of Privet Drive, where the manager glances at what appears to be a photograph in his hand and then up at the vampire.
"Mr. Stavros, we have been waiting for you. Your requested room is ready, sir," the manager, whose name tag has Henry engraved upon the brass plating, gives him a smile that looks rather strange.
Kyrios arches a brow in response to the man's statement, recalling having made no request on his own for a room, especially here in what is known as South Kensington in Central London. Also, how this man knows the surname he is currently using is beyond him. "My room?"
"Yes, sir. You will be residing in the Signature Suite. Your butler, Mr. Michaelis, will show you to your room and, once you and your son have settled, the rest of the hotel's facilities." If even possible that arched brow shoots up higher. A Signature Suite is costly and very large. It is more space than he needs. As for this Mr. Michaelis, the name is undeniably familiar. It is the same last name as—
"Right this way, sir." An all too familiar velvety voice addresses him from his left, and he turns to face the pale-skinned, raven-haired, and red-eyed demon that is bowing before him. There is a slight smirk on the bastard's face, one that he would love to wipe off for setting all of this up. As Sebastian Michaelis straightens up, the demon's eyes glow fuchsia for a split second while his smirk deepens slightly.
"Good evening, Michaelis," Kyrios states with a smile that feels forced, his teeth once again gritting together. He follows the butler to the lift, his gaze taking in the hotel uniform the demon has no doubt lifted from one of the employees, or even the laundry room itself. It is as pristine as everything else the demon chooses to wear, and it even has its own pair of white gloves that the demon seems fond of. "What is the meaning of this?" he hisses out once they are enclosed in the lift and it is on its way up to the suite that takes over an entire floor.
"My lord was in need of suitable accommodations to raise his new ward. The hotel was not my idea, unfortunately." Sebastian gives his usual smarmy smile, the one that always makes the ancient Greek want to give him a right hook to the face.
"What do you mean, not your idea? And just how much will this cost me?" Kyrios' voice raises at this point and the bundled up child in his arms squirms a bit, quickly drawing his attention off of the demon and to the boy. "Shh… I'm sorry, little one," he soothes in a much softer tone.
"I cannot reveal the nature of who contacted me, my lord, and this jaunt costs you nothing. You now own the hotel." Sebastian looks at Harry with a bit of interest, blinking slightly before a grin replaces the smirk. "So this is who all the fuss is about."
The lift stops and the doors open before Kyrios can say anything to Sebastian, though the vampire sees fit to glare at the demon's back. He doesn't want to believe that he now owns the hotel they are going to be staying in, but Sebastian has never lied to him. "I'm beginning to wonder if I ever should have drawn up a contract with you in the first place. At least it's not like your usual contracts, demon."
"Oh, now don't say that, my lord. You make things interesting for me, and the sustenance I get far exceeds that of the souls I used to eat." Even the ones he carefully molded to suit his tastes. The last soul he had eaten belonged to a bratty Earl nearly seventy years in the ground. "You are the best master I've ever had. Not even that Phantomhive brat could compare to you."
'I would hope not," Kyrios mutters. He had been born and had grown up in a completely different time, compared to even then. It had been far more savage, barbaric, and downright brutal.
"Welcome to your suite, my lord," Sebastian states with a bow as he opens up the door leading into the Royal Kensington Suite.
Upon entry into the suite, he first notices just how big it is. Two floors! Two whole floors! The next thing he notices is an array of shopping bags on the couch and settee, all from Harrods. Last is the occupant of one of the plush armchairs. It is a stout little creature with large, pointed ears, a rather big nose, a menacing smile, and a pair of beady little eyes.
"Come have a seat, Mr. Stavros, and everything will be explained to you," the creature, a goblin by the name of Ragnok, motions for him to sit down. He has a very pleased expression on his face as he eyes the vampire and the child he held.
In the Morning
At nine sharp, one Albus Dumbledore strides into the lobby of Gringotts Wizarding Bank as if he owns it. He is dressed in purple robes that have silver stars stitched into them, matching purple high-heeled boots with pointed toes, and a deep purple cloak. It is unusual to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looking so pleased and superior. Then again, in light of recent rumors that are quickly spreading like wildfire across a bone-dry forest in the middle of summer, Albus Dumbledore has every reason to look as he does, for lack of better taste in clothes.
Regardless of the fact that the self-styled Lord known as Voldemort, a name which every witch and wizard seems to fear, with the exception of Dumbledore, is now dead, said happy Headmaster only boded ill for Gringotts. Ragnok, the King of the Goblin Nation and General Manager for the British Branch of Gringotts, himself comes out to greet the aging wizard. Greet is a term that the Goblins only use loosely. Very much so.
"How may I help you today, Headmaster?" Ragnok nearly spits the question out, his gaze furious as he levels it on the self-proclaimed Leader of Light.
"If we could adjourn to your offices, there is much we need to discuss and see to," Dumbledore states with a distinct lack of formality in regards to the King of the Goblin Nation. His tone is rather condescending, on top of it, and his blue eyes twinkle in the way that Ragnok hates whenever he deals with the Headmaster.
"Right this way, Headmaster," Ragnok grits out, and swiftly turns to lead Albus Dumbledore to his public offices. The man has never set foot in his private offices, and he'd be damned if he lets the man do so now. Those offices are reserved for very special clientele only, of which the Headmaster is not.
Once they reach Ragnok's public offices the Headmaster has the gall to conjure up a squashy purple armchair and sit in it, his hands steepled on his lap. "I am sealing the Potter Will," he begins immediately.
Seal the- Seal the Potter Will?! "On whose authority?" Ragnok quickly sneers out, a dangerous gleam to his eyes.
"Mine, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Minister Bagnold has given me permission to do so." Dumbledore smiles to himself, his blue gaze now steely as he dares the Goblin to deny his demand.
Ragnok inwardly fumes and has no choice but to acquiesce for now. "It shall be done, Headmaster." Just because it is sealed, for now, it doesn't mean that the Potter Heir won't be unable to unseal it himself once he eventually arrives at Gringotts. That is less than ten years away.
"Also, as Harry Potter's guardian, I will need his Vault Keys." This particular request is what stops Ragnok cold, and he can only stare at Dumbledore with unbridled rage.
"I cannot honor such a request, Headmaster. The Potters explicitly stated that his vault keys are to remain with the General Manager of Gringotts British Branch until he comes to us at age eleven." He says after a long moment. Ragnok levels a nasty smile at the Headmaster, only for it to dissipate at the thunderous look that forms on the old wizard's face.
"I am his guardian in the Magical and Muggle world, and I will be taking his vault keys with me when I leave this bank." Albus actually stands up from his armchair and draws a rather peculiar looking wand that he points at the Goblin.
Every fiber of Ragnok's being screams at him to cower and hide at the sight of this strange wand, which emanates a power that is more fearsome than Dumbledore's own. The power carries the whispers of an assured death, especially if he does not comply with the wizard's demands.
"So be it," Ragnok whispers harshly, and unlocks a drawer at the bottom right side of his desk. He gently extracts the Potter Vault Keys and grudgingly hands them over to Dumbledore.
The wand quickly vanishes back into the depths of the man's robes and he leaves Ragnok's public office with a spring in his step. The King of the Goblin Nation can only watch as he starts for the tellers before the door swings shut.
In the Evening
He is on an oh so important mission. It isn't so much a mission that has been given to him, but one that he has taken upon himself. He is all too much aware of his master's whims, one of which has been to stopover in Southern England for a rest. Instead of resting, however, his master had witnessed a rather peculiar thing. It was a cat.
Oh, how he loves cats. Their soft, luscious fur. Those bright and intelligent eyes. The velvety pads of their feet. It had taken everything within him to not give away his position to his master nor to the cat who is actually a magical person. He can only fathom what is going on, and lo and behold when he has been beckoned by a rather curious little creature with a very sharp spear that has pretty much appeared from nowhere, does he follow.
"You are the demon known as Sebastian Michaelis?" Ragnok questions once the demon is seated in a hard-backed chair in front of the desk in his private offices. His countenance is dark, in light of his earlier dealings with Albus Dumbledore, his sharp teeth bared threateningly.
Sebastian grins in return, his red eyes glowing fuchsia for a long moment as he takes in the Goblin. "I am he."
"You are well known from the time you served as a butler to one Earl Ciel Phantomhive, Guard Dog of Her Majesty the Queen of England." Ragnok sneers a little disdainfully, pushing a deep red file across the desktop towards Sebastian.
The demon merely glances at it then back to the Goblin. "He was my former master, yes. I am now serving my current master, whom I was watching over at Privet Drive."
Ragnok looks a little interested at this, for there had been no other save for Professor McGonagall who had been noted to be in the vicinity at the time. Well, disregarding the Muggles. "Really now? Your master is at Privet Drive?"
Sebastian cocks his head to one side and blinks languidly. "Yes, he is."
"At this very moment?" Ragnok pushes, knowing full well who resides at Privet Drive and what their relation is to a certain young savior of the British Wizarding World.
"He is." Sebastian stares at the Goblin, his expression blank.
"Who is your master, exactly?" Ragnok looks eager now, a spark of hope forming in him. Just maybe… This can be a way to foil Dumbledore and his plans.
"The Lord of the Night," Sebastian intones and just as he expects, the Goblin pales beyond measure, his mouth dropping open in shock.
"L-lord of the Night?!" There are legends of this man, this enigma, but Ragnok has never expected… Can scarcely believe…
"Yes. Kyrios is the Lord of the Night. The first human to become a vampire." Sebastian's tone is a bit gleeful as the Goblin seems to absorb this information and sputters a little more.
"Vampire, you say?" This can't work out. British wizards and witches look down on non-humans.
"Of the day-walking variety," Sebastian adds for good measure.
"That is-"
"Unheard of? I assure you, my master can walk in the sunlight, eat and drink as you or any other person can, and has more than enough power and wealth at his disposal." This seems to give the Goblin a little more hope back in his expression.
"Yes, yes. We can make that work. His non-human status doesn't need to be revealed," Ragnok murmurs conspiratorially. A thought comes to him and he gives Sebastian a sharp glance. "How much wealth does your master have?"
Sebastian looks a bit thoughtful at the question and quickly adds up the fortune his master has acquired over his long lifetime. "Let's see, he's had nearly four thousand years, more or less, to acquire his fortune. The majority of his wealth is in multiple human banks across the world, acquiring interest, so you do the math."
This is almost too much for Ragnok to process. Almost. With that much wealth, why, the supposed Lord of the Night easily outmatches all of the Great Britain wizarding families put together. He will be the wealthiest client that Gringotts bank will ever have, to date, and possibly for the longest time. They only need to fudge a bit on their documentation, and with how stupid the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain seems to be, they can pull it off.
"Your master is at the home of the relatives to one Harry Potter, the survivor of a terrible attack that left the Dark Lord known as Voldemort either dead or unable to do much of anything now. Unfortunately, due to the enchantments placed on the Potter's Last Will and Testament, I am unable to discuss anything relating to it, aside from letting it be known that it is not up for discussion." Ragnok makes a nasty expression with this statement before a decidedly calculating look replaces it. "Yes… This will work. It has to work."
"You do realize that whatever you are intending to do hinges on my master's willingness to take in an abandoned child," Sebastian estimates, and quickly realizes that he had struck gold. "He has been a father, twice over, and would not suffer a child to be abandoned to an abusive household." Of this, the demon is quite sure. "That family is unsuited to raise any child, let alone their own." He had seen the awful display that morning, of the obese child kicking his mother while screaming for sweets.
"You are positive that he would take the child in as his own?" Ragnok examines the demon carefully as if looking for him to lie.
"He would indeed."
The Goblin snaps his fingers and several others rush into Ragnok's private office with parchments, quills, and inkwells. There is a flurry of activity, in which the monarch barks out orders and they are followed, to the letter. Sebastian watches all of this with an amused smile, providing input as needed.
Within record speed, Ragnok has a form for the adoption of one Harry James Potter, official-looking documents denoting one Kyrios Stavros as the head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Stavros from Greece—in which several copies are sent to their Greece Branch and discreetly filed to appropriate departments—and a document requesting the transfer of all Kyrios' funds to Gringotts, which is promptly copied and handed off to several trustworthy and capable witches and wizards—employed by Gringotts, of course—to immediately take care of. Lastly, and most importantly, Ragnok gives the go-ahead for a purchase to be made of a suitable home for their newest client. "What would be a suitable place for Lord Stavros to stay at?"
"The Milestone Hotel," Sebastian says immediately, remembering the old mansion-turned-hotel with quite a fondness.
"It is decided, Lord Stavros and Scion Potter will make their home at The Milestone Hotel." Ragnok fills out the very last form and sends it off for the bank to purchase in lieu of the new Lord Stavros. Consider it a gift for giving me a chance to throw Albus Dumbledore off his game, the Goblin thinks viciously, a victorious smile on his face. "Now, if you wouldn't mind doing me a favor, demon Michaelis."
At Midnight
Albus Dumbledore has experienced quite a wonderful day. Everything is going according to his will and plans, and nothing can stop him. Once he had dropped the Potter child off at his Aunt's home he had made his rounds to the celebrations and feasts that were taking place. After he had tired of that he had called for Fawkes to come to take him back to Hogwarts. The phoenix isn't answering his summons, however, so he ends up having to apparate to the gates of the school.
He must be off having a celebration of his own, Albus thinks with a slight shrug. He doesn't mind it so much, as nothing can dampen his mood. Entering through the gates, he begins to stroll up to the castle, admiring the view of Hogwarts backlit by moonlight. Thankfully it isn't going to rain up here in Scotland.
The stroll is relatively short, rather he is letting his thoughts wander and so isn't paying any mind to how long the walk is, and he quickly finds himself within the castle proper and on his way up to his office. Reaching the stone gargoyle that guards the entrance to his personal quarters and office, he fails to notice that it looks somewhat newer. Cleaner even.
"Ice mice." Albus gives the password and smiles as the stone figure moves aside, revealing the spiral staircase that leads up into his quarters. He ascends the steps and immediately glances over at Fawkes' empty perch. The phoenix definitely must be out celebrating. Albus gives a small chuckle and stops to admire his shelf containing numerous monitoring devices, most of which are keyed to Harry Potter. All appear to be in working order, so he makes his way over to his desk.
He sits down in his favorite squashy purple armchair behind the desk and sighs as he takes in the various stacks of folders and parchments that require his signature. They deal with the school's budget, the daily running of the school, the curriculum, and various other things. Now is a better time than ever, especially since he is in such a good mood, to take care of them. They are a little overdue, what with the war and all, and the ministry will start clamoring for them to be filed soon.
Picking up the first stack of parchments, and plucking his self-inking quill made from one of Fawkes' feather from its holder, he begins to meticulously sign his name to each parchment. He doesn't bother to read over them, there is no need to, so as each parchment magically files itself he fails to notice a particularly special one within that exact stack that will eventually bring about his ruin.
At Midnight: The Royal Kensington Suite
Kyrios stares at the Goblin known as Ragnok, quite dumbfounded with everything that has been meticulously explained to him, mouth slightly agape. The Goblin eyes his teeth, which are as blunt as any human's, his expression curious.
"Do you understand what it is you have taken upon yourself by swearing to protect Scion Potter with your life and power?" Ragnok questions, his countenance quickly turning serious.
"That my life is forfeit should I fail to protect him." Kyrios knows perfectly well that such vows are not made lightly, and everything that the Goblin has told him only makes him that much more protective.
"Thankfully you will have help in that regard." Ragnok produces a very thick folder and quill. He also motions towards a doorway and another Goblin wearing white robes comes in. "Please let our Healer tend to Scion Potter while you sign these."
Kyrios lets his gaze go to the Healer who keeps a respectable distance from him, his scrutinizing gaze making the Goblin cower a bit. "Please check his scar," he states after a long moment. "It is still bleeding."
"Of course, Lord Stavros." The Healer carefully takes Harry from the vampire and carries him over to the settee, which has been cleared off by Sebastian—along with the couch—once Ragnok had bid the vampire to sit.
Both Kyrios and Ragnok watch the Healer briefly before the vampire turns his attention to the offered folder of documents. He takes it and the quill, and begins to read through the parchments before signing his name to any of them.
After ten minutes of nothing but the scratching of a quill on parchment, a cry comes from the direction of the Healer and Harry. The documents are immediately dropped as both vampire and Goblin monarch leaves their seats to hurry over to the settee.
Ragnok pulls the Healer side just as a vaporous black cloud oozes from the scar on Harry's forehead. Kyrios, meanwhile, picks Harry up and cradles him to his chest while the cloud screams before vanishing. Big fat tears are coming from Harry's stunningly green eyes, his cries having quickly quieted with the leaving of whatever had been in the scar.
"What was that?" Kyrios turns to the two Goblins, his expression deadly.
"T-that was—" The Healer begins to stammer out a response but is unable to do so, his fear becoming increasingly evident.
"That, Lord Stavros, was a product of one of the darkest of magics known to wizarding kind. That was a Horcrux," Ragnok grinds out, eyes still on the spot where the black cloud had been.
"A what?" Kyrios looks baffled by the term.
"A Horcrux is a fragment of a person's soul, which has to be split by committing murder and is then placed into a container so that the person cannot die. It essentially makes the person immortal," Ragnok explains in a whisper. This is bad news, because if Voldemort has made Horcruxes then he is most definitely not dead. Vanquished, but not dead.
"So Voldemort, whom I'm assuming that soul fragment belonged to, is not dead?" Kyrios tentatively questions, his gaze now focused on a sniffling Harry and the miraculously healed and almost completely gone scar on his forehead.
"That is if he made more than one, and I would assume that he did so." Ragnok sighs and dismisses the Healer.
Just as the Goblin Healer leaves a parchment appears in a flash over the coffee table between the couch and the chair that Ragnok had previously been seated in. The Goblin monarch quickly goes back over to the coffee table and snatches the parchment out of the air. He reads over it and a partial smile forms on his face. "Good, good. This is good news," Ragnok murmurs. He turns to Kyrios and holds it out.
The Greek vampire sits back down on the couch, Harry on his lap and staring around the room, and takes the parchment with his free hand. Appearing at his side, with the folder of documents back in order, is Sebastian, who exchanges the folder for the young boy. Kyrios murmurs his thanks and reads over the newest parchment, a brow raising as what he is reading sinks in. "I'm his official guardian now?"
"Once you sign that parchment, yes." Ragnok has resumed staring at the spot over the settee, his expression carefully calculating.
"And signed it will be," Kyrios responds, filling out the form and watching as it magically doubles and both copies vanish. He picks the folder back up and quickly scans over it to see if he has missed anything, signing wherever his name is needed.
"There is one more thing to be taken care of," Ragnok muses, rubbing at his chin. "You would say that Scion Potter defeated Voldemort, yes?"
Kyrios pauses and looks up at the Goblin monarch, his quill hovering over the last line he needs to sign. "From what I am to understand, yes, Harry defeated Voldemort." He glances back down at the final parchment, signs his name, and closes the folder. Both the quill and folder are returned to Ragnok, who takes them with a grin.
"Thank you very much, Lord Stavros. Scion Potter, by right of conquest—and when he is age eleven—will be able to claim any titles and fortunes that the being known as Voldemort has, just so you are aware." This is said with a vicious grin, the Goblin tucking the folder under his arm protectively. "We will have a trusted contact within the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement get in touch with you soon. Preferably when you and Scion Potter are settled."
"And who will this contact be, if you don't mind my asking?" Kyrios stands up and glances around the lounge, wondering where Sebastian has gotten to with Harry. A sweet trilling fills the suite, along with the happy laughter of a child.
"Madam Amelia Bones, the new head of the DMLE. I hope you will call Great Britain your origin of domicile for a long, long time, Lord Stavros," Ragnok informs before taking his leave, a truly happy and scary smile on his face.
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Harry Potter and the Lord of the Night