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
- 4
- 5
- 6
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.
Lemons Drops and Blood Pops
wWwWw
Chapter Five:
wWwWw
Anatoli made the Quidditch team he tried out for. This was good for Harry because it brought a lot more business. He was finally getting a name for himself. And he finally had more than seven brooms on display at a time.
He also got a lot of applications for apprenticeship, which totally threw him the first time it happened. Harry? Teach someone broom carving? Riiight. Nobody had the same ‘sense’ of the trees as Harry did, so eventually he had left a stick sitting in the corner specially for testing wannabe stick carvers, as he was starting to call the profession.
Hopscott went out of business a couple years after Under the Wood opened, as the word spread around that his brooms could die in midair and nearly kill you. Battista and Anatoli might have helped spread that. A bit.
Members of the rich Italian family came to visit once in a while, either to just say ‘hi’ or buy a broom. Harry didn’t get many custom requests, but when he did, he started pulling in 200 galleons or more. Whenever he got a huge amount like this, he liked to give Darcy a bonus for being such a good employee. He knew it must be hard for her to see her old business erased and replaced by his own. She seemed to be having a good time, though. She’d even invited him to her new house in the countryside for a cup of Earl Grey.
He still preferred coffee.
His business was successful for five boring years for Harry before something extraordinary finally happened.
“Excuse me? What’s your name?”
The young girl, who had muttered her name into an embarrassed hand, repeated herself softly. “Irene.”
“And you want to become a stick carver? Why’s that?”
He demurely looked down at the ground and whispered, “Because I like to fly.”
“Really. And what do you think of trees?”
“They’re peaceful.”
Harry stopped what he’d been doing – sweeping the floor – and actually paid attention to the girl. “You like trees?”
She smiled softly. “Yes. We have many behind our house.”
‘Hmm’ing softly to himself, Harry went over to the dutiful stick that sat in the corner and picked it up. It felt the same as it had the last time someone had asked to be his stick carver. Like it didn’t want to be here. The very first wannabe carver had brought him this stick in the hopes that he would take him on as a student. It had only convinced Harry the boy was a lost cause.
Placing it in her hands, he waited for a reaction.
“It wants to go home,” she said, the very instant it touched her hands. Then she looked embarrassed and stared down at the floor.
Harry stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted.
“Darcy!” he called, watching Irene with careful eyes when she flinched. It made him wonder. She was pretty young. Probably in her fourth year of Hogwarts. Why did she want a job here? Had she left home?
“What do you want, you crotchety old crab!” she yelled, coming crashing into the room from upstairs. She’d probably been in the middle of casting some spells on the latest project he’d assigned her. She was getting a better feel for the enchanting process, for sure. He was quite pleased with her. He also made her go slowly, so she could put enough power into each spell separately. Because of this, it sometimes took her weeks to finish a broom, but the end result was almost the same quality as Harry’s. He bet she’d be as good as him in predicting the flow of the enchantments in a couple more years.
And now he had his little wood sniffer.
“We have our first stick carver. Go draw up the contract.”
Darcy stared at the petite blond standing in the middle of the room with the dead stick in her hands.
“And take that stick back to Bristol, it wants to die already.”
When Darcy just kept staring, Harry raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t until he actually waved a hand in front of her face that she snapped out of it, busily brushing her brown bangs out of her eyes. “Maybe you need a haircut.”
“Maybe you need to bugger off.”
The poor child in the middle of the room gasped quietly, staring at the two of them with horrified eyes.
Darcy was immediately at her side, wrapping an arm around her and cooing in her ear. Harry had to admit it was creepy. “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’re always like this. It’s our way of showing our affection for one another.”
Pale silver eyes glowed up at Darcy. “Really?” she asked, and the sheer hope and wonder in her eyes nearly broke Harry’s heart. She turned to Harry after Darcy nodded gently.
Harry mentally sighed and kneeled before the girl. Using a gentle brush of Legilimency, he caught sight of a fist, a dark space, and a forest. She was a runaway alright. He didn’t know how she found her way to him, but he found himself deciding then and there that he would let her stay with him, or with Darcy, until she was able to stand on her own two feet.
In the following weeks Harry took Irene with him around the world, teaching her how to apparate and find the trees they were looking for. He found her sheer feel and touch for the forest to be beyond even his own understanding. She could sit still in a forest for five seconds, and immediately know exactly where the tree or stick was that she was looking for. It was phenomenal.
When September came Harry offered to let Irene go back to school, but she refused profusely, telling him with a little of the confidence she had gained since coming there that she enjoyed working with him, and she loved how she could talk to the trees with him and he didn’t think she was a freak. That word nearly broke his heart all over again. He knew how that felt.
It took a couple years, but Under the Wood finally had enough business, and her co-operators had enough experience, to be allowed to sail under the power of her own wings. So Harry started looking for another job, or something else to entertain himself now that the money was pouring in. He only took on the most difficult of the custom jobs, and even now he was only doing the charm work as Irene was a much better treehugger than he was.
Once he decided that the girls had learned as much as they could from him, he upped their profits from the selling brooms from 5% each to 10%, on top of their bi-weekly wages. He told them that he would love to pay them more, but that he needed the money for something great he was planning, and they understood. He loved them for that.
wWwWw
Harry frowned from where he sat waiting on the door step. Darcy and Irene, who were now living together since Harry’s space upstairs had long since gotten too big for two people, had invited him over for dinner and he found it extremely rude that they still hadn’t answered the door. Getting annoyed, he popped into the entrance hall prepared to give them a piece of his mind when his brain froze. And so did the two women. In a lip lock.
They quickly broke apart, faces aflame and horror in their eyes, and Harry decided that some drastic action was needed to cool this situation down.
Grinning brightly, he cooed. “Aaaw, my little girls are all grown up! How long did it take you to get together, eh? I’ve been waiting for seven years you know! I expected you to invite me to the celebratory celebration! I hope you didn’t forget me.” Standing there with his fists on his hips, a friendly smile on his face, he felt the bundle of nerves in him relax when the two women sobbed and latched onto him. He could practically smell their relief.
“We thought-“
“Everybody always called-“
“Unnatural-“
“Said cruel things-“
“Whoa, calm down girls,” Harry cajoled. “Breath. I have absolutely no problem with you two being lovers, or whatever. I happen to be very good with a wand, myself.” He smiled at them slyly.
Darcy was the first to get it. Her eyes widened. “Seriously?! No way!”
Irene looked confused until Darcy explained the double entendre to her. Then she turned red. She quickly excused herself to prepare them some tea.
Harry and Darcy smiled after her. “She’s so cute. Now, bitch. Tell me why you left your old man standing outside in the cold for so bloody long.”
Darcy had the decency to look embarrassed. “We didn’t hear you knock, sorry.”
Harry rolled his eyes, muttering stuff like “too busy snogging” just to see the embarrassed pink of Darcy’s cheeks as he walked towards the sitting room.
Sitting down with a loud sigh, he gratefully accepted the tea from Irene. The girls knew he liked coffee in the mornings and green tea in the evenings. Caffeine content. Earl Grey could go hug a tree.
“So girls, how’s business going?”
They both looked amused at him, as he had been basically jobless for the past two years now, only coming in occasionally to do a custom broom, or a broom that was needed in a hurry. He’d once finished an entire broom, with Irene’s expert tree sniffing and carving capabilities, in the fifteen minutes a Quidditch team had managed to get for a timeout. The broom hadn’t been a beautiful work of art, but it had served her seeker beautifully for the rest of the match. Said seeker had ended up keeping it afterwards, and the team paid Under the Wood a hefty sum for their speed and quality.
Unbeknownst to Harry, the art of broom crafting had far exceeded its craft in his original world. He remained stubbornly glued to his old Firebolt, however, never making himself a new broom. He would ride it until death did they part.
“It’s going well, you jobless bum. The goblins are very happy with the gold we’re raking in. I did what you suggested when making the daily deposit with the ‘may your gold always flow’ thing. They really like us now. They’ve been asking after you, actually. Apparently you speak Gobbledegook?”
Harry chuckled. Ah, yes. He’d had quite the interesting conversation with his account manager the last time the went to Gringotts.
“How is the job hunting going, anyway?”
Darcy had never been very patient.
“Still waiting for something worthwhile to come along. I think I may have finally found what I’m looking for.”
Even Irene looked interested now. “Really?”
Harry nodded. “The DADA position has recently opened at Hogwarts. I was thinking of applying for it.”
Darcy and Irene stared at him in surprise. Darcy was the first to break the silence. “Are you even qualified?”
Harry pretended to look hurt. “I’ll have you know I’m very qualified. Besides, with you girls running the business that will financially back my nefarious plots, I wanted to get a job that I enjoy for once.”
Irene frowned. “You never told me you don’t like making brooms.”
Harry sighed. “No, I didn’t, because you like it so much. There was no point in me taking away from your enjoyment of it. To me, stick carving has always been about the business. I like flying, but carving and enchanting sticks isn’t my passion.” He stared off out the window, imagining all the dark and deadly creatures and beings out there who were hurting people and being prosecuted respectively.
He missed being in the thick of that part of the world. He’d been keeping his eyes, ears, and nose open for Voldemort’s activities, but so far the bastard was stubbornly remaining hidden. Harry could even feel when he began creating his horcruxes through his scar (which used to be a horcrux, but was now just a dark magic detector hidden on the top of his head under his unruly mop of hair). He’d felt the dark magic rising, and he’d kept moving his money around wisely, investing in muggle and wizarding businesses alike. He’d had to take a crash course on investing at the University of London to know how to do it, but he was glad he did. For example, he knew what brands of telephone had existed in his own world, so he knew that the business could be successful. He’d invested large amounts of money in electronics, cars, oil, you name it, he’d invested in it. He swore that the money he now had was coming close to what the Potter vault had had when he’d inherited everything.
He was gathering the resources for a revolution. He was still looking for the Hermione to lead it, though. He knew, being a half-vampire himself, that if he lead the gigantic reforms in the Ministry, he would eventually be discovered and all his hard work would fall apart. No, he needed someone entirely human to lead it. Perhaps a pureblood and a muggle-born working together.
Thoughts for another time.
“What is it that you miss?” Irene asked.
Harry looked down at his tea. He knew she could sense it, she was sensitive enough. The deep aching desire buried in the pit of his heart. The ball of emotion he hadn’t let himself touch for the past seven years because he was afraid he would lose all drive to move forward.
He just hoped his goals would be realized before he finally burned out. He’d already fought all of this once already, and now he had to fight Voldemort and the Ministry all over again.
“Harry?”
Harry looked up to see Darcy kneeling in front of him, but he couldn’t make out her eyes, because his own were filled with… tears? Is that what was blurring his vision?
“I miss Hermione,” he choked out, not feeling it when soft hands pulled the cup of green tea from his hands. “She always had the a-answer to everything.” Blinking rapidly, he tried to clear his vision, but it had disappeared into a wave of brown hair. Why? Why was he cracking now? He had to be strong. He had to be a rock, if he was to survive this all over again, this time without any of his friends. He whispered to himself, not realizing he was speaking aloud, “I miss them all, but their either dead or gone from me…”
A small body wrapped around his back, and a larger body hugged him from the front, Harry wept for the first time in many years, finally letting go of the frustrations and fears that plagued him.
wWwWw
“Would you like some tea, Mr. Underwood?” Dumbledore asked as soon as Harry had walked through the door.
Harry smiled in greeting and glanced at his watch. It was evening. He could suffer some tea. “Yes, please.”
He watched Dumbledore do some fancy wand waving, knowing the secret that he was actually summoning tea from the kitchens, not conjuring it. It had been a technique Dumbledore had used, er, would use? Not that it mattered, but it brought on a wave of nostalgia on Harry’s part, sitting in this office as he had so many years ago with the Headmaster’s trinkets spread about the place and Fawkes sitting devotedly on his perch. He almost wanted to break into tears right then and there, but knew he couldn’t. This was a business meeting, not a reuniting of old, lost friends.
“So you’d like to apply for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position?” Dumbledore asked, and Harry was momentarily taken aback by the straightforward approach. Perhaps he hadn’t created his deviation tactics yet. Harry suppressed a snicker. Or maybe he just wasn’t barmy yet.
“Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore. I read about the job opening in the paper, and thought perhaps this would be a good opportunity to return to my passion.” Harry smiled congenially.
Auburn eyebrows, laced with a heaping of silver, rose slightly in surprise. “And what are you doing now which is not your passion?”
Harry wondered if Dumbledore would take a broom crafter seriously, but figured it was best to be completely honest with the fellow. He really wanted this job position. He missed his home, and… there was the coming war that he thought about constantly these days. He wanted to start training the new generation to defend themselves. “Making broomsticks.”
Blue eyes widened slightly in recognition. Harry found he missed the full blown twinkle the man had developed in his ripe old age.
“Underwood… Under the Wood… Very interesting, Mr. Underwood. Very interesting.”
Harry had a feeling the geezer was teasing him, and he couldn’t help but blush and come to his own defence. “It wasn’t my bloody idea. Darcy threatened to curse my sign with the name unless I caved.” He couldn’t help but pout, turning his head to look at one of the many odds and ends contained in the office. There weren’t as many as Harry remembered, but Dumbledore still had plenty of time to add to his collection. Since he wasn’t looking, he didn’t notice the assessing gaze, and the way the blue eyes twinkled slightly in amusement.
“And why is broom making not your passion, Mr. Underwood? Surely you have profited much from the business.”
Harry blinked and turned his wandering thoughts away from the tables and walls of the office. “Sure, it’s a great way to be financially secure, but it’s never been something I would jump in front of a bone-shattering hex to do.”
Silvery auburn eyebrows rose in surprise at this, and Harry found himself blushing in embarrassment. Why had he had to use that analogy?
“And what would you jump in front of a bone-shattering hex to do?”
Harry looked at him funny. “To protect someone, of course.” He was distracted again by the spinning globe with rings around it, and so he missed the look of shock on the Headmaster’s face. Looking back on the meeting, Harry would wonder why he remembered so little of it, and the only conclusion he would be able to come to was that he felt safe with Dumbledore. He felt that he didn’t have to watch the man, wary of threat, physical or otherwise. The respect he had gained in his own dimension was colouring his opinion on this other Dumbledore, but he couldn’t help it. He had missed the man so dearly.
“I see.” Harry snapped out of his daze and returned the smile that was being sent his way. “Perhaps I could see your credentials?”
Harry did a mental ‘crap!’. He had his OWLs and NEWTs from America, but there was no other documentation for his ‘knowledge’ (cough)experience(cough).
Reaching into his pocket, he slowly pulled out his results to give his slow brain some time to come up with a brilliant way out of this mess.
“I can give you my OWLs and NEWTs, but I’d prefer it if you judged my knowledge on my present knowledge and experience rather than what a piece of paper says,” he covered his ass, wandlessly waving the copy over to Dumbledore’s desk. He didn’t miss the surprised look this time, and once again mentally berated himself for forgetting that normal people did not use wandless magic as carelessly as he did.
Dumbledore put a pair of half-moon glasses on his nose, obviously uncomfortable with them. This made Harry smile. It appeared the geezer wasn’t quite used to reading glasses yet, he thought affectionately. Luckily Harry had been able to get laser eye surgery in the muggle world during his training, so he no longer needed to wear glasses. His Commander had nailed into their heads, don’t be noticed, so everyone had pitched together to help those in the group with glasses to get rid of them (and Harry had donated just a little more money to the pot than anyone else).
“These are impressive marks, Mr. Underwood. You said you were home schooled?”
Harry nodded. “Yep. My mother didn’t like me leaving her sight, so she was a little over protective.” He decided to stick with the story he’d told a long time ago about having to work in a restaurant with his mother for ten years before her death. The numbers had added up close enough in the file, which Harry had memorized upon assuming the identity, so he stuck with what was simple.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “If I may ask, any idea why?”
Harry shook his head. “No. Not really. I mean, I have some educated guesses, but she died before I got the guts to confront her about it. I mean, it was the way things had always been, so I didn’t know to question it.”
Dumbledore nodded his head and folded the papers. “I’ll ask you a few questions pertaining to the position, and then I have another interview.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Oh sorry, I hope I’m not keeping you.”
Blue eyes smiled at him. “Nonsense, nonsense. They can wait a little longer. Now, tell me 20 shields you know, 20 dark curses you have experience with, and 20 dark creatures you know how to deal with. You have five minutes. Oh, and don’t forget the details.”
As Harry’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth was already moving, following the orders of someone who he held in the highest respect. The shields were rattled off in the order of most used to least used, the curses named quickly with short descriptions of their effects, and he only managed to get through 17 creatures in the last two minutes he had. When his brain reached the mental countdown, he stopped halfway through a sentence.
Dumbledore blinked. “Do you only know 17 creatures, Mr. Underwood?”
Harry gave him another funny look. “I ran out of time.”
wWwWw
Sent away with a polite boot and a short explanation that a letter would be sent to him to tell him if he did or did not receive the job, Harry walked down the stairs to the gargoyle with high hopes. Unfortunately, he met someone he had not anticipated waiting at the bottom.
Voldemort.
Red eyes and everything.
Pain spiked through his hidden scar, instantly giving him a headache. He politely greeted the monster and got a sneer in return. The future Dark Lord pushed passed him without a word, going up the stairs. Once the gargoyle had closed behind him, Harry couldn’t help but stand there and massage his scalp where the old curse scar now lay. What had Tommy-boy been up to since Harry had last seen him? How many horcruxes had he made? These were the dark thoughts that plagued Harry’s mind as he let himself out of the castle, leaving a confused Minerva McGonagall standing at the gargoyle a couple minutes later, as she had come to escort the ‘stranger’ to the entrance hall.
It was two days of painful waiting before Harry finally received an owl from Dumbledore.
“Is this it? Is this the response to that new job you applied for?” Darcy asked excitedly after letting the owl in the window. Harry had been visiting her house in the countryside when the owl had found him.
Harry bit his lip nervously as he pulled the letter from the owl’s leg. “I dare not open it,” he said, mock-seriously, eyeing the loopy green script. It reminded him of his first Hogwarts letter.
“Then give it!” Darcy snatched it right out of his hands, eliciting a gasp from Irene and a look of mock-outrage from Harry. She tore the letter open without a care for whether he wanted to preserve it, and yanked the parchment out, tossing the envelope to the side. Harry summoned it with a wave of his hand, eyeing the torn green script sadly.
“Dear Mr. Underwood,” Darcy read dramatically, “I am pleased to inform you that I have chosen you for the DADA position!” She squealed, wrapping her arms around Harry and jumping up and down. “You got the job you always wanted!!”
Laughing, Harry plucked the letter from her grasp before she could crinkle it any further. Gently opening it, he finished reading the loopy green script.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Underwood,
I am pleased to inform you that I have chosen you for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position here at Hogwarts.
Please be aware that all professors are required to send their book list as well as a curriculum outline for all years to Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress. I would have liked to give you the last professor’s outline, but all of his paperwork has unfortunately undergone a small accident.
I was somewhat surprised by your application, but I assure you, am very pleased to welcome you on board. I greatly enjoyed our little chat, as I’m sure you enjoyed looking at my plentiful trinkets. (here Harry groaned out loud, nearly sending Darcy into a frenzy) I hope that we can share such discussions again in the future.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Harry smiled so widely he was sure his face would crack. He folded the letter back and slipped it into its damaged envelope. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he jumped in the air and yelled, “I’M IN!! TAKE THAT!!” and started laughing uncontrollably from joy. The girls joined him, and the evening turned into happy celebrations of laughter, food home cooked by Harry himself, and plenty of whisky to go around.
-Toki Mirage-
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Lemon Drops and Blood Pops