Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Cannot Save You Now	By : tigrelilje Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 15706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter fandom nor do I make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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{Parseltongue}
Chapter 5
Harry was currently sitting on a window ledge in his Father’s owlery, marveling over the creature sitting on his arm as he stroked her white feathers. His beautiful Hedwig, ever loyal, had found him even after his death. She had been the only one there for him on so many occasions, witnessing the darkest parts of his human life. He was sure he would have gone mad without her presence to talk to over the years. He hadn’t been alone when she was there.
He had found her after his trip to Diagon Alley in the owlery, just as his Father had said he would. He had introduced her to Ciaran, who had received a suspicious glare from her at first, and began explaining to her about his plans for the upcoming year.
Now it was the night before he would be boarding the train at King’s Cross to make the journey back to the first place he had ever called home. Hedwig was perched on his right arm while Ciaran was wrapped around his left. Hedwig had gotten over her annoyance of the new creature with her master and now the two were, if not friendly, at least tolerant of each other.
Harry had very mixed feelings in regards Hogwarts now. The castle was so old and steeped in centuries of magic; it was like walking into a warm blanket every time he returned. Having not grown up in the magical world, he liked that he could be constantly surprised by the things he discovered and subjects he learned within the walls of the ancient school.
But he had also always been threatened at Hogwarts - never safe, in a place that was supposedly as safe as Gringotts. He had always been trying to stay ahead of Voldemort, instead of focusing on learning about his wizarding heritage. Or he had been slandered as an insane, attention-seeking teenager, instead of being recognized as a normal teenager with normal teenage problems.
His life had never been his own the moment he stepped foot into Hogwarts. He had never been expected to be anything when he was at the Dursleys, except a useful worker; but he was expected to be everything except human at Hogwarts, and even his reemergence into the wizarding world had changed his life with the Dursleys for something far worse than it had been before.
He was always fighting to survive but never actually living.
And now he had died, and perhaps really living for the first time in death. He was no longer anyone’s puppet and he wasn’t anyone’s savior.
“Well Hedwig, my dear, ready for your costume?” Harry finally broke the calming silence they had all been sitting in.
Hedwig hooted in what Harry liked to think might be affirmative resignation.
“Don’t worry, lovely,” he reassured, “you will still be beautiful and it will not be forever. But you are too unique and stunning, everyone would recognize you immediately.” He smiled as Hedwig puffed up her feathers a little bit at the subtle compliment. Scary smart bird she was indeed.
Harry held out his hand for a moment to gather some of his magic, before running it down Hedwig’s body from head to talon. As he moved his hand, it left a trail of magic that slowly spread across her body. As he watched, her feathers melted from white into the blackest of blacks. He had left her luminous amber eyes unchanged, however. The end result was stunning, maybe even more so than when she had been white, but Harry wasn’t foolish enough to ever let Hedwig hear that opinion.
Ciaran had been watching and uncurled the upper portion of his body from Harry’s arm to inspect his fellow creature’s new appearance.
{She is the same color as me now, Master} he observed.
{Yes, she will be less conspicuous now} Harry commented. {She will blend into the night as you will blend into the shadows. The darkness is our friend now; we would be wise to use it}
{She looks better now, the white made her seem innocent. Now she looks dangerous} Ciaran hissed in approval. Harry laughed but could only agree.
Hedwig looked at Harry in surprise for a moment before looking back at Ciaran with a glare.
“Don’t worry Hedwig, he only said you looked good,” Harry soothed affectionately. Hedwig gave a haughty hoot before sticking her beak up in the air, an obvious demand for more petting. Harry was glad to have his long time friend at his side once again.
***
Harry and Tristan, along with Blaise and his mother, arrived on Platform 9 ¾ a good thirty minutes before the train was scheduled to leave. It had hit Harry hard last night that this would be the first time he would be away from Tristan since he had turned for more than an hour or two. His instincts had caused him to start to panic at the thought.
As a result, Harry had spent the night in his Sire’s bed, while he tried to make their bond calm down. Even though he never said anything, Harry could tell that Tristan was being similarly affected by their approaching separation. They both knew it was good that they would be spending time away from each other in a non-threatening situation. Otherwise, this discomfort could be used against them. It was hard for either of them to think straight at even the thought of being apart; who knows what would happen if one of them was taken hostage or something before they could learn to adjust?
Harry was feeling jittery and rather snappish now. Blaise was wisely keeping his distance, knowing full well that Harry’s vampire instincts were driving him to distraction and he wasn’t fully in control yet. Blaise could only hope no one made him angry before he could pull himself together. Otherwise, there was a good chance someone would end up dead.
“Remember what I said, Son,” Tristan murmured, only for Harry’s ears. “Keep a sharp eye out for anyone who might intend harm to you. I am not without enemies, you are going to be the easiest way to get to me now that we are separated. I would be displeased if anything were to happen to you.”
And Harry could see in Tristan’s eyes that what he really meant was that if anything were to happen to Harry, his Sire would most likely carve a bloody path through vampires and humans alike in his rage. It warmed him to know he finally had someone who cared about him.
“Don’t worry, Father,” Harry reassured. “I won’t be caught unawares.”
They quickly said their farewells before Harry and Blaise boarded the train and found a compartment in the section that tended to be populated by Slytherin House. Not many students had arrived yet, so the two friends were able to relax for a moment and concentrate on who they were supposed to be this year.
This was a yearly ritual for Blaise. He had never told anyone in Slytherin about his connections to vampires or that his father was one of them. Vampires required silence from the humans who mingled with them, and it hadn’t been hard for Blaise to keep that silence. He was protecting his family. They had always been there for him, and he would be there for them. He tried his best to subdue the vampiric urges he had developed over time, such as his appreciation for violence and sexual promiscuity, but he wasn’t perfect. So discretion, on the occasions when he cracked, was the key to keeping his secret. And he and Harry- No, Henry, I better start thinking of him as Henry if I don’t want to create any suspicion for him, Blaise reprimanded himself quickly. He and Henry were going to have to behave more like human friends.
Blaise was sure he was probably going to spontaneously combust from sexual frustration. Humans just weren’t the same as vampires…
Meanwhile, Harry was mentally preparing himself as well. He was trying to drag up his lingering human instincts. He did not want anyone to know that he was a vampire. It would be too risky, someone could connect Harry Potter to the new, green-eyed vampire who just happened to transfer to Hogwarts after Harry Potter’s death. No, that wouldn’t do at all.
So, he couldn’t casually touch people and try to seduce them. Well, he could, but he would need to be very discreet. He was sure the Slytherins would be watching the new guy among them. And Harry had no doubt he would be placed in Slytherin this time around. He would definitely need to control his bloodlust. And no unnecessary violence; that might cause him to lose control of the easily accessed rage that was always just below the surface. He could only be cold, hard, and calculating. He had too much to do, he could not be distracted.
And he had to remember to respond to the name Henry and introduce himself as such.
A greater number of students were milling around the platform now, saying their last goodbyes and enthusiastically greeting their friends. Harry watched them in stony silence, keeping an eye out for the ones he had a particular grudge against.
Ten minutes before the train was set to leave, Harry saw a mass of red moving toward the train, announcing the arrival of Weasleys. A slight scowl flitted onto Harry’s face at the same moment that their compartment door was abruptly pulled open. Quickly smoothing his face back to impassiveness, Harry turned his head slightly to the sight of Malfoy, followed by Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson. He saw Blaise stiffen with their entrance, obviously slipping back into his cold Slytherin persona.
“Zabini,” Malfoy nodded in his direction before turning to Harry, “And Henry Renard, if I’ve remembered correctly?”
“Yes, nice to see you again, Draco Malfoy,” Harry returned, not in the mood to shamelessly flirt for entertainment this time. “I am not familiar with your companions, however.”
“Ah yes,” Malfoy said, “they are Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson,” he nodded to each in turn as he said their name, “And this is Henry Renard, a friend of Zabini’s,” he added to his entourage.
They all glanced at Harry in mild surprise, letting Harry know that it was odd to be called a friend of Blaise. They all settled into their seats and waited for the train ride to begin. Harry caught Pansy eying him in a most disturbing fashion in his peripheral vision. Though, now that he was no longer blinded by prejudice toward Slytherins, he had to admit that she had developed into a rather attractive young lady. He could barely see any trace of her previously unfortunate resemblance to a pug.
Blaise noticed Pansy’s interest and mentally laughed to himself. Harry was going to have one hell of a time fighting her off if she really decided to pursue him. He almost hoped it happened just so he could watch Harry try to deal with the slutty bitch without ripping her head off. But then Blaise reminded himself that he would most likely be forced to endure her company by extension if she insisted on following Harry.
“Oh Draco,” Harry heard Pansy’s voice before he covertly began to listen intently, “how is your father? It’s simply dreadful that he was forced to spend any time in Azkaban. So lucky they realized their mistake and released him. I hope your family is pressing charges.”
Harry almost laughed as Pansy tried, and failed (if Malfoy’s face was anything to go by), to provide support and comfort to the man she desired. How the dumb bint didn’t realize that Malfoy could barely stand her presence, Harry couldn’t understand. Aren’t Slytherins supposed to be observant and clever? Harry thought in confusion. Though the information that Lucius Malfoy was once again free did fill Harry with furious anger. Cornelius Fudge would apparently turn a blind eye to anything for the right price. Harry briefly wondered if he could have made Fudge declare Voldemort officially returned earlier if he had bribed him enough. The thought made him sick.
“My father is perfectly fine, Pansy,” Draco replied coldly, “As you said, it was an unfortunate misunderstanding. I am sure it will not be happening again.”
Harry was unaware that his facial expression was reflecting his inner thoughts of anger and revenge against pompous bastards, but Blaise noticed and subtly tapped his friend’s leg with his toe. Harry became aware that his facial muscles felt tense and quickly tried to relax, even though he was mentally yelling at himself for failing to contain his anger effectively, again.
“Well, Renard,” Malfoy began, probably in an attempt to redirect Pansy’s attention, “tell us something about yourself.”
“That’s a rather open-ended request,” Harry commented with a raised eyebrow. “My father and I are from France and I will be starting my sixth year, same as you if I’m not mistaken.”
“Are you not familiar with any of the British wizarding families then?” Pansy inquired.
“Oh no,” Harry assured her, “I am quite familiar with them.”
“So you know which families hold more sway and power than others,” Draco stated, a barely hidden threat in the words, no doubt meant to let Harry know that Draco was in control here.
“I know which families think they deserve the respect and fear of others,” Harry countered with an arrogant shrug, “But that does not make it true. And they do not impress me.”
“Do not make the mistake of arrogance, Renard,” Draco reprimanded, “It is too early for you to be making enemies.”
“Who says I intend to make enemies?” Harry asked in false-surprise. “For the sake of my fellow classmates, I hope I will be left alone. I have no interest in your British politics. They mean nothing to me.”
Harry could tell that Malfoy was not taking too kindly to being blatantly brushed off as a non-threat. Not that Harry didn’t consider him a threat on some level, but definitely not something to be worried about. Except…
Now that he was no longer filled with murderous thoughts, Harry had become aware of the gentle squeezing around his heart once again. He knew what it meant. His mate was here. And Harry was pretty confident he knew who it was.
And it did not make him the least bit happy.
***
The rest of the train ride passed fairly quickly. Harry was content to absently observe his future housemates’ interactions with each other. It was an easy way to learn about them.
For example, Crabbe and Goyle, while not quite as stupid as he had believed before, were still not the brightest candles. But they were definitely sneaky enough to be Slytherins. They acted far less intelligent than they really were, and were almost overlooked by the others. But Harry could tell that they were keenly watching every interaction and filing away the information. He wasn’t certain, but Harry was almost positive that not even Malfoy knew about his bodyguards hidden observational skills.
Malfoy was too arrogant for his own good, obviously assuming that he was the undisputed leader among the Slytherins, at least of their year. Harry would have to see how he interacted with the rest of the house. Having basically brushed Malfoy aside, Harry was a bit worried he might find himself in trouble pretty shortly if Malfoy held the control in Slytherin house. Ripping that control from Malfoy could just be considered part of his revenge, though, if it came to that.
Parkinson was barely even worth noticing. She was an unextraordinary pureblood witch who acted as though it was expected that the men would pay attention to her and spent most of the train ride trying to gain Malfoy’s attention. Harry could tell she wanted to use her charms on him but wasn’t sure if she should approach him, especially after the subtle power struggle he had just had with Malfoy. Harry was glad she kept her distance.
Most intriguing to him, though, was observing his friend Blaise. After observing Blaise’s open personality all summer, seeing how cold and closed-off he was around the other Slytherins was like watching a completely different person. He clearly detested Parkinson, thought Malfoy was weak, and ignored Crabbe and Goyle. Though Harry noticed he was careful of what he said and occasionally his eyes darted to the two bodyguards suspiciously. So Harry wasn’t the only one who had noticed their silent observation.
Harry was fascinated by it all. He had been too blindly Gryffindor while alive to appreciate all the subtle signs he was picking up now. He had previously assumed that Slytherins were united as one big Dark Lord-loving, Dark Arts-practicing bee hive. Every time Malfoy’s father was mentioned, Blaise would almost sneer, and slide a disdainful look toward the younger Malfoy, clearly unimpressed with the family’s support of the Dark Lord. Every time Parkinson opened her mouth, he looked pained, but Harry could understand that. Her voice was rather high-pitched and whiny, not a pleasant combination.
Shortly before their arrival to Hogwarts, the confrontation Harry had been awaiting finally took place. As usual, Weasley was sticking his nose in places where it didn’t belong and apparently he felt it was a good time to pick a fight with Malfoy. He saw that Hermione was being reluctantly dragged along behind him, clearly wanting no part in his foolish childishness.
“Oh look, it’s the ferret,” Ron exclaimed viciously, “how’s daddy doing rotting in prison, by the way, I forgot to ask last time we ran into each other.”
Harry was momentarily stunned by the stupidity of one Ronald Weasley. Was he aware he was in all-Slytherin territory? Was he aware that there were no teachers to save his stupid arse; and definitely no Harry either? Had this really been his best friend for the last five years? Harry was momentarily ashamed of his poor choice of companions in the past before Malfoy responded.
“My father is perfectly fine, Weasel,” Malfoy sneered, “The ministry made a mistake, but he is at home where he belongs. Are you too poor to even receive a paper?”
“Your father is at home?” Ron demanded, outraged.
“Is there an echo? I do believe that’s what I just said,” Draco commented condescendingly. “Where’s the four-eyed member of your trio? Still lost him, have you?”
“He isn’t lost,” Ron spat, as Hermione desperately tried to stop him from speaking before he could reveal something he shouldn’t, but it was too late, “The dumb bastard got himself killed.”
A deafening silence greeted that statement, though Harry saw Hermione bury her face in her hands and turn away to try to hide her tears. Malfoy stared at Ron in disbelief, before his gaze flicked to Hermione and gauged her reaction. He seemed to be in shock, like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“Is that so?” Draco retorted after a moment. “You don’t seem too upset considering your best friend is supposedly dead.”
“Why should I be?” Ron snarled venomously. “He never took me seriously or gave me any credit. He just used me to get a family of his own.”
“I never thought you could be more pathetic, Weasel,” Draco said scathingly, and Harry was surprised at how much disgust was held in his gaze as he glared at Harry’s former best friend. “It’s a shame Potter didn’t heed my advice on that first train ride. You really were the rotten choice, but that’s no surprise to me. Now get out before I do something unfortunate.”
Malfoy flicked his wand quickly so the compartment door shut in Weasley’s face before he could respond and then he flicked it once more to lock the door.
“Do you really think he’s dead, Malfoy?” came Crabbe’s voice after a few moments of silence.
“Yes, didn’t you see Granger’s face? She was heartbroken,” Draco responded.
“Well, that should be great news for you, Malfoy,” Blaise spoke up suddenly. “You were always complaining that you wished Potter would die, especially at the end of last year after your father went to jail. Though that doesn’t seem to have lasted,” he muttered the last bit to himself, though Harry heard him.
“Yes, well, it will be odd, at the very least, to not have to worry about Potter bothering me for once,” Draco agreed. “But he was the most interesting… past-time I had while at school.”
“What about me, Draco?” Pansy cooed.
“What about you?” Draco asked coldly with a raised eyebrow. Pansy huffed at him in anger for a moment before stalking out of the compartment with her nose in the air. “Finally,” Draco sighed. “That bitch drives me crazy. I can’t believe Father was considering betrothing us. I hope he didn’t actually do it.”
“Why don’t you just tell your father that you despise Pansy, Malfoy? Or better yet, that you prefer cock over all those curves?” Blaise sneered. “Oh, but I forgot, Malfoys don’t really make their own decisions, they just follow the decisions that others make for them.”
“Be careful, Zabini,” Malfoy growled dangerously. “At least the Malfoys stand for something, unlike the Zabinis who are too cowardly to take a stand on anything.”
“Oh, the Zabinis stand for something, but it’s not your place to know what,” Blaise countered with a smirk as the train pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade. Blaise stood swiftly, nodded arrogantly to the other occupants of their compartment and left. Harry began to follow his friend but turned around at the compartment door.
“Gentlemen,” Harry said, nodding his head almost mockingly. “It’s been a pleasure. Hopefully, we’ll be meeting again in a moment.” And then he, too, was gone, trying to catch up to his friend and pretending he didn’t notice that the discomfort in his heart lessened with each step he took away from the compartment.
***
Harry was waiting in an alcove of the Great Hall next to the Head Table. He was going to be sorted before the first years. He had met Dumbledore a few moments before so the Headmaster could explain to “Henry” about how students were sorted at Hogwarts. Harry had wanted to rip the man’s arm off when they shook hands in greeting but had managed to keep his expression and his emotions on a tight leash. It really wouldn’t do if he had let his magic escape him so early. He didn’t want anyone to know just how powerful he was.
Harry had been more than happy to note the slightly wild look in the depths of the old man’s eyes, however, no doubt due to Harry Potter’s death. Harry wondered what Dumbledore was going to do to save face now that the Light’s weapon was dead. Harry’s eyes flicked to the Gryffindor table for a moment as a new thought occurred to him. That was something he should have considered earlier, not that it really changed his plans, but… It wasn’t his problem anymore, anyway.
Now Harry was waiting to be introduced to his classmates and take his place in Slytherin, where he should have been years ago. He was brought back to attention when Dumbledore stood to address the students.
“Welcome back, students! The regular sorting that I’m sure you are all anxiously awaiting will begin in a few moments. But first, we have a new transfer student from France that needs to be placed! Please welcome Henry Renard!” Dumbledore announced cheerfully.
Harry stepped out of the spot he had been concealed behind and strode confidently up to the stool that had the Sorting Hat placed on it. It was very different being back at Hogwarts now. Even though he had turned off his empathy, he could still smell, and even hear, the signs of many of the emotions the students were feeling at the moment. There was sweat and pheromones, and accelerated heart rates and quickened breath. It was almost overwhelming. The changes could have meant anything from anger to fear to lust.
Harry sat on the stool with an impassive face and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
'Hello again, Mr… Renard, is it now? How you’ve changed from before. Will you be fighting me again?’ the Hat inquired dryly within the privacy of Harry’s mind.
'Hmm, no. I was thinking about letting you do your job this time, what do you think?’ Harry asked sarcastically.
'How very kind of you, Mr. Renard. I’m glad to see you embracing everything that you are now, instead of letting others influence what is best for you. It is always a shame to see a wizard stunting themselves by pretending to be something they are not,’ the Hat commented. ‘I don’t get much excitement in my life, as I’m sure you know. I look forward to the day when they all realize that their savior Harry Potter was really only ever suited for-’
“SLYTHERIN!” the Hat finished out loud to the waiting school. The Slytherins cheered and Harry made his way over to the table with a barely there smirk on his face. He slid gracefully into a seat next to Blaise and waited for the actual Sorting to begin.
As the first years shuffled into the Hall, Harry took the time to observe those around him. As he glanced to the front of the Hall, his eyes met the probing black gaze of his father, Severus Snape. He returned the gaze defiantly, letting the man know he was not in the least bit intimidated by him. He knew what the best revenge would be for his human father. It was going to be subtle and slow. Perhaps even the cruelest of all the revenge he was going to seek if he really thought about it.
He let his gaze drift away only to be drawn to Dumbledore. Harry was thankful that the memories from his life were more like vague dreams unless he really concentrated on them. Especially now that he knew he was going to be rather explosive for a while. There were so many things that had happened in his previous life that he held Dumbledore responsible for. And to make it worse, Harry was fairly positive that Dumbledore hadn’t been trying to be cruel or malicious. The man was just… losing his concept of what was an acceptable sacrifice for the cause. Every time he cut a corner at the cost of someone else it made it that much easier to do it the next time and then again, until he was no longer aware that what he was doing wasn’t acceptable and was no longer plagued by guilt. Harry was sure this had been happening for many years. It was easy to become desensitized after a while.
Harry needed to make him realize his error. And then ruin him completely.
Finally Harry flicked his gaze to the Gryffindor table and observed as Ron joked with his housemates and Hermione sat in subdued silence. Many of the Gryffindors were glancing between the two in confusion, clearly wondering where the third member of their trio was, why Hermione looked so distressed, and how Ron could be so carefree under the circumstances.
How easy it was going to be to ruin his former best friend. Harry was only regretful that the bastard didn’t have far to fall in the first place.
***
The Slytherin common room looked just the same as it had in Harry’s second year. He was a bit excited at the prospect of snooping around everywhere without fear of being discovered.
Harry had originally told himself that he was not at Hogwarts to make friends, only to exact his revenge and then disappear again to live his life in peace for once. But he realized that it would be best to at least make nice with the other Slytherins, if not become friends of a sort. Blaise kept his distance to protect his family from persecution. But Harry had nothing to worry about; Tristan could take care of himself. Perhaps some backlash could hit Blaise if Harry’s vampirism was discovered, but Harry was sure he could make Blaise look the victim in the situation and keep his place in wizarding society secure.
As Harry and the other sixth year boys got ready to sleep in their dorm room, Harry noticed that Theodore Nott kept glancing in his direction. His expression was a mixture of suspicion and apprehension. Harry wondered if the boy was suspicious about him being Harry Potter or a vampire. Or something else entirely.
Whatever it is, Harry thought to himself as he began to drift into sleep after spelling his curtains shut, I’m sure I can use it to my advantage somehow.
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