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batsutousaiTitle: Stand Against the Moon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort
Warnings: Violence, character death, Dark!Harry, werewolf!Harry, AU, ending of questionable happiness, underage sexual relationship (depending on the way you tilt your head)
Summary: Cursed against his will, Harry made the best of his life until he found himself, again, wandering in Death's realm. When Death offers him a second chance, a chance to right the wrongs he'd been blind to for too long, he can't possibly refuse.
A/N: I'm finding myself with the urge to run around referring to Voldie as the 'convenient dark lord' now.
The Dursleys finally get theirs in this chapter, near the end. The only deaths 'onscreen' are relatively minor on the violence scale, so that shouldn't be a problem for anyone.
Chapter Five – The Little Victories
-0-
It wasn't hard to win the loyalty of non-humans through kindness, Harry discovered quickly, if only because they were so unused to someone being honestly kind to them. And while that simple fact made his heart ache, it also made his life much easier, because Harry wasn't, at his core, a cruel person. There was a hardness to him, a determination to use any means to get done what he believed needed done, but he had never believed in mindless killing or torture to achieve his aims.
"Some will see you as weak," Carmilla warned as the last of the vampires finally started clearing out a little after five, most rushing to beat the sun to their abodes, which were all over the UK, Ireland, and north-western Europe.
Harry shrugged as he gently shook Remus' shoulder. His guardian for the night had fallen asleep some two hours earlier, finally calming after a night of watching the various patrons treat Harry with respect. "If someone thinks I would make an easy target, I will happily set them straight," he returned, utterly unbothered.
The thing about having been an auror, especially in service to a Ministry that had delegated non-human policing to that department, was that he knew plenty of spells capable of stopping the most violent of non-humans (those capable of visiting Bloody Eyetooth, at least, as a giant wouldn't fit). More so, he was capable of casting most of them wandlessly, he'd already discovered. He didn't, necessarily, enjoy the fact that he knew them, but preparedness was a lesson that one never quite unlearned.
"I hope you don't come to regret your arrogance, Alpha Lord," Carmilla returned with a disapproving look from next to the floo.
Harry sighed. "If I am proven the fool, then on my own head be it." He shook his head in response to Remus' tired look. "If I can't even stand against my own kind, what gives me the right to lead them against the magical humans?"
Carmilla paused in the act of tossing a handful of floo powder into the dying flames of the hearth. "Not untrue," she admitted.
"Anyway," Harry added cheerfully, "I am only five. Some allowances must be made for my age."
Carmilla let out a disbelieving laugh and left with nary a wave.
Harry wondered if he should be insulted by the slight, but then he glanced towards the clock over the bar and saw how close the hand was to the mark for sunrise. Well, he could hardly blame her lack of societal niceties when the sun was involved. "Are you ready to go?" he asked Remus as the werewolf proprietor stepped past them with a respectful incline of his head to collect the bottles and glasses left lying about by vampires in a hurry to leave.
"Yes," Remus agreed before letting out a yawn. "Merlin," he complained. "Tell me you're not due over at the Burrow today."
Harry snorted. "Nah. We can go straight home and crash properly."
"You are far too awake. How are you still awake?"
Harry bit his lip against a grin as he pushed Remus towards the floo. "Energy of youth," he managed after a moment, entirely too amused.
Sirius was awaiting them at home, grinning at Remus' obvious exhaustion and Harry's seemingly endless reserves of energy. "We can still set up a playdate for you, pup," he threatened as he took over pushing Remus along.
Harry rolled his eyes. "No thanks. I'm going to bed."
Sirius chuckled. "Of course. I'll spend today trying to hunt down the Potter family cloak, then. See if I can't find a way to tie it to Albus, beyond your certainty that he has it."
Harry eyed his godfather suspiciously for a moment, then shook his head. "Sometimes," he said drily, "you act so much the oblivious Gryffindor, I forget you were raised by Slytherins."
"That wasn't a compliment!" Sirius shouted as Harry closed his door behind him.
Harry just laughed and set about getting ready for bed.
When Sirius returned a little after one, Harry was curled up on the couch in the living room with one of the books he'd retrieved from the library in Grimmauld Place. Sirius sort of stood in the doorway and stared for a moment before letting out a resigned sound and stepping forward. "I'm pretty sure you're too young for that book," he complained.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "Because of how complicated the language is, or because of the topic?"
"Either. Both." Sirius sighed and dropped onto the couch next to him. "Your parents are rolling in their graves, knowing what you're reading."
Harry snorted, since they were both aware this book was the least of his sins. "Please. Dad's probably grateful I'm your problem, and Mum thinks you deserve me."
Sirius took a moment to consider that before agreeing, "Accurate," and shifting in his spot to get at his pocket. "Moony still sleeping?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed absently, distracted by the familiar shimmer of the fabric Sirius was pulling from his pocket. "Pinky went up to check on him earlier and said he was just tired. Is that my Cloak?"
Sirius grinned and held it out. "Yup! Albus had it, like you said," he continued as Harry dropped his book to the ground in favour of his favourite of the Hallows. "He said James lent it to him to study when they went into hiding. Something about it not doing them much good while they're stuck in one house. Figure Lily got irritated with him for pulling it on for a laugh."
Harry hugged the Cloak to his chest, curling around it and breathing just a little easier at its return. "This was all I ever had of them, before," he whispered, voice a little too tight. And while it didn't completely explain his attachment to the artefact, it was, nonetheless, true.
Sirius held very still for a breath before he twisted and pulled Harry against his chest for a tight hug. "Oh, pup," he whispered, sounding so very heartbroken.
They were both quiet for quite some time, Harry warm and secure (and maybe, just a little, thinking up ways to get the Elder Wand from Dumbledore), and Sirius...well. Harry could only assume he appreciated the quiet moment, those brief hints that, no matter how old Harry might act some days, he still very much needed his godfather.
Finally, however, Sirius cleared his throat. "I found a pensieve in the Black vault while I was at Gringotts. If you wanted to show me that memory..."
"Ah, yes." Harry waited until Sirius let go before standing and shoving his Cloak in a pocket. "It's in the receiving room?" he guessed.
"Yeah, in its carrying case," Sirius agreed as he stood and led the way into the little room hidden away between the dining room and the living room, which had the fireplace that had been connected to the floo. (A clear addition made by the previous owners, as most wizarding families simply used the fireplace in the kitchen or living room.) The room had been warded to keep any arrivals that weren't tied into the wards inside the room until they were let in and – on Harry's suggestion – spelled to keep any gases from getting out into the house.
A circular case just the right size to fit a pensieve sat on a small sideboard just inside the room, next to the door. Harry picked it up and carried it over to the dining room table, where he stepped back and let Sirius open it. It was padded inside, dark plum velvet hugging the rune-scribed bowl. Sirius pulled it out and set it on the table, then turned to Harry, wand drawn. "You let me know when you're ready and I'll collect the memory," he promised cheerfully.
Harry rolled his eyes at this refusal to let him at any wands – he was stuck somewhere between amused and irritated with the caution – and closed his eyes to recall the memory of sneaking into Bellatrix's vault. He took care to start the memory after the door of the vault had reappeared, to lessen the chance that Sirius would realise that Bogrod was under the Imperius, and ended it shortly after he'd spotted the cup, since it just got embarrassing after that.
"Kay," he heard himself say from some distance, and a wand touched his forehead. He opened his eyes to see the slime of silver memory leaving him and watched Sirius drop it into the pensieve.
They leaned forward together and entered the memory. It was dark, Griphook ordering them to light their wands and hurry. Light filled the vault a moment later and Harry noticed Sirius staring at the older version of himself with wide eyes. A motion of his hand had the memory pausing and Harry asked, "Sirius?"
"Merlin, you look so much like James," Sirius whispered as he turned to look at Harry. "How old were you?"
"Seventeen," Harry admitted with a shrug before he waved towards his two best friends. "That's Ron Weasley, who you've met, and Hermione Granger, a muggleborn. Ron and I were best friends from the train, and Hermione joined our circle after an incident on Halloween our first year."
"An 'incident'?" Sirius repeated, one eyebrow raised.
Harry grinned. "That year's Defence professor let a troll into the castle. Hermione was hiding in the loo and Ron and I went to save her."
Sirius barked out a laugh and Harry motioned to continue the memory.
When they observed the activation of the anti-theft curses, Sirius choked a bit and asked, "Did you seriously manage to steal this cup from Gringotts while the goblins knew you were there?"
Harry laughed. "Yeah, actually. It was a bit hell, and involved escaping on the back of a half-blind dragon, but we pulled it off." He grimaced, remembering what came after. "Though, the goblins got the rough end of it. When they wouldn't let any of us into Gringotts again after the war, the Ministry, ah, compelled them. It wasn't pretty."
"No," Sirius agreed as Harry's elder form described the cup and reminded Ron and Hermione that it might be Ravenclaw's item that they were looking for. "You didn't know which horcrux Bella had?"
Harry snorted. "No. We didn't even know what Ravenclaw's artefact might be, honestly. We were flying half-blind for this entire endeavour."
"It's there, it's up there!" Harry's older self called out and Harry paused the memory the moment Ron and Hermione's wands turned to light the cup.
"So, that's Hufflepuff's cup," Sirius murmured, stepping around the tens of multiplied treasures crowding the vault to get a closer look.
Harry followed him with care, recalling all too vividly how hot the vault had been and how agonising it had been to touch the objects. "It is," he agreed as he reached Sirius' side. "I can't guarantee that it'll be in exactly that spot in her vault at the moment, but that's where it was when I found it."
Sirius nodded. "Do you have a good view of the back?"
"I ended the memory shortly after this," Harry admitted. "I can add the memory of after we parted from the dragon, though. We sat and stared at the cup for a bit, so you can see all the angles."
"Let's pull that memory up, then," Sirius decided and they rose back into their bodies.
Sirius returned the memory of Bellatrix's vault and retrieved Harry's next offering with easy efficiency, then they returned to the pensieve.
"Merlin, you three look like hell," Sirius said as they watched Harry and his two friends dab the essence of dittany onto their many burns.
"Not one of our favourite adventures," Harry replied drily as his elder self pulled out the cup and set it in the grass. He paused the memory and Sirius took a slow walk around the image.
"Should be easy enough to spot," Sirius said after a moment, tone vaguely sarcastic.
Harry, remembering well how full of gold and gems Bellatrix's vault had been, just smiled knowingly.
After they'd returned to their bodies and Harry had his memory back, Sirius boxed up the pensieve. "We'll keep it upstairs," he decided as he latched the top. "Just in case there's anything else you feel the need to share."
Harry smiled and shrugged. "Entirely possible. Alternately, you could always show memories of your favourite pranks."
Sirius' eyes lit up and, as he left the dining room, Harry was left with the certainty that he'd be enjoying a number of memory-pranks for the next week.
Sirius managed to get the goblins to let him into Bellatrix's vault on Wednesday. Harry and Remus were in the living room, working on another puzzle, when he returned, and he stood over them, shaking his head.
"So?" Harry asked a bit absently as he very carefully moved a group of pieces he'd been putting together off to one side towards the connecting piece Remus had just put down.
"We could keep it with the dishes," Remus suggested and Harry and Sirius both turned vaguely horrified looks on him. "Is that a no?"
"I am not contaminating our food," Sirius insisted.
Remus rolled his eyes. "I'm thinking in a 'hide it in plain sight' manner."
Harry finished putting his group of pieces in place, then tapped his chin in thought. "It's not a terrible idea," he admitted, glancing up to grin at Sirius' disgusted look. "What? It's not. We don't have to put it with dishes we'd actually use, you know. Set up a curio cupboard in the dining room with ridiculously gaudy tableware – there's plenty left over from Grimmauld Place that Kreacher couldn't sell off because it was cursed – and put it in there. Couple strong wards on the doors to keep anyone from snooping inside, enough otherwise cursed objects to throw off any curious spells, and turn it so the badger's not showing, and no one'll even note it. And then I don't have to sleep in the same room as a pile of horcruxes."
"That's...not a bad idea," Sirius decided. "And I do approve of spreading them around a bit if we're keeping all of them in the house. Can we put the one in your room out anywhere?"
Harry considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "It's a locket, and very obviously Slytherin. Moreover, it's capable of speech, so I'd rather keep it closeted. The one Lucius has, though, is an old book, so I expect that can be shoved on a bookshelf somewhere. The diadem...will be as difficult as the locket to set out, but I expect we can sort something out for it by the time I actually collect it."
"I love that Voldemort made so much jewellery into horcruxes," Sirius muttered before raising his voice to call, "Kreacher!"
"He actually wore the ring in school, and the locket was his mother's," Harry commented as Kreacher popped into the room, a belligerent expression on his face. "Merlin's bollocks, you're a pair of children," he complained, earning a guffaw from Remus. "Kreacher, we want to set up a curio cupboard in the dining room with some of that cursed tableware and the cup Sirius is holding. It's like the locket, so treat it with a bit of caution, please."
Kreacher gave a sharp nod and held up a hand for the cup. "Kreacher understands, Master Harry."
"I thought he was calling you 'Young Master'," Sirius said after Kreacher had left with the cup.
"After you officially made me his master, he dropped the 'young'," Harry admitted with a shrug as he turned his attention back to the puzzle. "I did ask him to use it around people who don't reside here, just to keep up appearances, but I otherwise don't mind the change."
Sirius sighed and wandered away, having already discovered that he had no patience for doing puzzles the muggle way.
He was back not quite ten minutes later, a scroll clenched in one hand. "Lucius wrote back," he announced before either of the other two could ask why he'd returned. "Harry and I are welcome to visit for tea on Saturday, but Remus is to remain behind."
Harry pressed his lips together to keep from voicing some choice words about the Death Eater – he suspected Lucius hadn't used Remus' name in the letter – which left Remus to carelessly comment, "I didn't particularly want to go, anyway. This close to the full moon, I might accidentally give in to the urge to tear his throat out."
Harry shot him a gratefully amused look. "A most excellent point. Very well," he continued, looking up at Sirius, "Saturday tea it is. I'll find some way to slip away and hunt down the diary. I expect I'll be sent off with Draco at one point so the adults can 'talk', or some such rubbish, and it won't be hard to slip him."
Sirius laughed and left them again.
Harry was right about how easy it had been to slip Draco, the boy even more unobservant now than he'd been at Hogwarts as a teenager. Honestly, finding a spot where there weren't any portraits was far harder, but he managed to do so with a bit of backtracking and slipped on his Cloak. A wandless silencing charm kept him from chancing discovery by making noise.
"Point me Tom Riddle's diary," Harry whispered with his eyes closed, turned in the direction of the library. The spell, irritatingly, led him in the opposite direction – a subtle tug on his right hand – and he sighed and started off. He really should have expected that Lucius wouldn't put so dangerous a book where Draco might come across it.
The spell led him to a heavily warded door on the first floor. Harry scowled at it for a moment – there was no way he could get through there without a wand – before he turned his mind to other options: He could call Kreacher to help, but he had no idea if the Malfoys had up some sort of ward that would warn them about the presence of other house elves; he could try to get Dobby's help, but he didn't know if the house-elf was disillusioned of Lucius enough to chance betraying his master; or he could try his trump card.
"Death," he whispered.
"Master," Death replied in his mind immediately. "You have need of me?"
Harry nodded, though he doubted Death could actually see him, given both the stories of the Cloak and the fact that the other was speaking in his mind. 'Yes,' he replied, switching to thinking the conversation since it had worked in the past, and it made him feel less like a madman. 'I seem to lack any way past Lucius Malfoy's wards to get to the diary. I would appreciate your assistance.'
There was no response for a moment, then the door clicked open, the wards obediently parting before him like a curtain.
Harry raised an eyebrow at that, because wards didn't do that. 'Do you enjoy breaking the laws of magic?'
"Anything else you wish for, Master?" Death replied, and Harry rather thought it sounded smug.
Harry grinned. 'Not for the moment. Your assistance is, as ever, most appreciated.'
"Why, Master, you're going to make me blush," came the dry response.
He laughed outright at that, stepping past the mutated ward and into the room, which appeared to be some sort of study. 'Can skeletons blush?' he wondered somewhat rhetorically.
"I'll be certain to inform you if I've ever occasion to discover an answer," Death promised.
'Much obliged.' Harry paused as a thought occurred to him, eyes skipping over piles of books on the shelves behind the large, ornate desk that dominated the room. 'Have the Dursleys remained at Privet Drive?'
"They have. Dumbledore told them to remain through the end of the year, as the protective wards remain in place, though they have weakened significantly. I believe the original intention was to have you returned there if Sirius proved an inadequate guardian."
"But of course," Harry muttered out loud as he motioned for the Point me to strengthen so he could have some help finding the diary, as looking around was turning up nothing.
"Have you intentions to deal with them, Master?"
'I do, but I'd like to make those plans for a time when Sirius has an incontestable alibi, so the Ministry can't even consider dragging him in. I'd like to have my own alibi so Sirius doesn't suspect me, but I can weather that particular storm if it comes to it.' He stopped in front of a bookshelf layered in Notice-Me-Not charms and a couple misdirection spells of various strengths. He'd almost turned away twice while distracted by answering Death, but the Point me spell kept dragging him back. "Oh, for the love of magic," he muttered before bearing down on the spells with his own will and breaking past them.
Death cackled, the sound seeming almost to echo in Harry's mind, and he grimaced in response. 'I swear to Merlin, I will have a wand by the time I turn six, even if it means sneaking into Hogwarts and jumping Dumbledore.'
"I could always kill him for you," Death offered, tone disturbing in its level of sweetness.
'What, and chance you taking the Wand back? Hell no.'
Death cackled again. "I'll get it back eventually, Master."
'I'll leave it to you in my will,' Harry retorted as he snatched the diary, eyes narrowed past the spells trying so very hard to keep him away. 'Are any of the rest of these books even vaguely interesting?' he asked, deciding he'd rather cheat than fight with the spells to read spines, especially since half the spines were blank. And, honestly, stealing a couple of Lucius' books as payback for making him fight against the spells sounded like an excellent plan.
Death was silent for a long moment before it ordered, "The black one with white runes on the spine and the one made of flesh."
"Ugh," Harry complained as he grabbed the specified books. They and the diary were all slipped into the expanded pouch tied to his belt and he turned away from the spelled bookcase. 'You're invaluable. Thank you.'
"Blushing, Master," Death promised.
Harry snorted and stepped from the study, pulling the door closed behind him. The ward smoothed back out behind him and he left to find a place to remove his Cloak, then find Draco.
Harry actually forgot about the two extra books he'd snuck off with, having been dragged off to the Burrow by a curious Bill almost as soon as he'd returned home. It wasn't until Remus asked after the diary on the thirtieth, clearly trying to distract himself from the full moon, that Harry remembered he'd come home from the Malfoys' with treasures other than the intended horcrux.
The diary was put on a bookshelf in the living room with some rarer books from the Black and Potter collections. Most of them had spells on them – most to keep children from opening them, a couple to heighten knowledge retention, while two others were prank spells – so they hoped that would help distract from the diary. General alarm spells were put on the shelf, ostensibly to inform anyone if a child tried pulling down any of the books, but really to ensure they knew if anyone was a little too interested in the diary.
Harry shoved the other two books under his bed, unable to look at them until after the full moon was over and everyone had stopped stressing out.
When the moon rose, Harry and Sirius were already in their animal forms with Remus in one of the rooms at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Remus having decided they might as well test the spells Remus and Sirius had been casting to turn the building into a werewolf refuge.
Remus' change looked as painful as Harry knew it was, and he whined in sympathy.
Moony looked confused for a moment, looking between the tense dog that he very likely recalled from years previous and the wolf pup sitting placidly in front of him. After a quiet moment, Moony bared his teeth at Harry and took a step forward.
Padfoot let out a warning growl.
Moony ignored the dog and took another step forward, golden eyes glinting with murder.
Harry met the other werewolf's mad eyes and let out a low snarl, not angry, but a clear warning.
Like a switch had been flipped, Moony dropped to his belly, then rolled over, showing his soft underside in a clear sign of deference.
Harry let out a pleased yip and stepped forward to lay down at Moony's side, fully intending to sleep the night away, and certain the two adults could use the rest, after how tense they'd been all day.
Padfoot let out a confused sound, but came over to lay down on Harry's other side as Moony turned onto his side and sprawled out next to Harry, apparently agreeing that sleep was a good plan.
Harry was woken at sunrise by the feel of a body shifting next to him. He nudged Padfoot and the animagus immediately scrambled up, halfway through his own change by the time he reached the door.
"What–?" Remus asked once he'd finished the potions Sirius had plied him with before turning his attention to Harry, who had taken the hint and let himself change back.
"Sol Eyes decided we should all take a nap and Moony decided that was an excellent plan," Sirius informed Remus while Harry knocked back his potions.
Remus turned to Harry with wide eyes, and he set down his empty potion vial before holding up one hand, fingers held close together. "Teeny tiny confrontation wherein Moony tried to prove being bigger meant being alpha. I snarled a bit, he gave in. We're great friends, now."
Remus shook his head, expression split between disbelief and awe. "Merlin's beard, Harry."
Harry grinned. "Anyone else up for heading home and getting a massive breakfast from our wonderful house-elves?" He stood and started out of the room.
"Alpha Lord says you're moving in permanently," Sirius informed Remus behind him.
"I'll go out to talk to my landlord today," Remus promised, awe in his voice. "And let me just say, I can't believe I just said that. I don't feel even vaguely like last night was the full moon. How–?"
"Never question the powers of the Alpha Lord," Sirius insisted.
Remus laughed. "Does Harry know you've named yourself his personal publicist?"
"Harry is resigned!" Harry shouted back, just to prove he could hear them.
Walburga started shouting obscenities and Harry rolled his eyes while Sirius started laughing a bit madly; he really should have set Moony on the portrait to see if werewolf claws could do what no amount of spells could. (In the other reality, he'd eventually set up two-way silencing wards around her frame and reapplied them every other week or so. Not really doable here, when none of them came by regularly enough to reapply the spells.)
For the moment, he just bared too-sharp teeth at the woman until she shut up with a gulp, then tugged the curtain back into place. 'Next full moon.'
Harry finally got a chance to look at his new books that afternoon, while Sirius and Remus were off taking care of the cabin Remus'd rented and moving the rest of his things into the house.
The black book was written entirely in runes and Harry grimaced at it for a long moment before letting it fall shut and making a mental note to find a runic dictionary and start translating the book. At least it wasn't thick, but he still expected it would take him about a year to finish, especially since he had so little time to himself.
The book bound in flesh appeared to be a necromancer's journal, hand-written in spidery script that looked like it should be difficult to read, but actually wasn't.
"Why did you tell me to grab a...is there a proper word for a necromancer's book?" Harry asked, half expecting Death to be paying attention solely because it always seemed to be paying attention.
Death obediently appeared before him, leaning casually against its scythe. "It is not simply a necromancer's book, Master, it is the necromancer's book. The very text I left those non-humans with a gift for Death magic."
Harry stared at Death for a long moment before turning back to the text in his lap and running a reverential hand over the page opened in front of him. "Well then," he murmured, "I suppose it's about time it was returned to non-humans."
Death cackled at him and Harry raised an eyebrow in response. "It is most unlikely any remain with the ability to read the text, Master."
Harry frowned. "I can read it."
"You are my Master; I can hide no secrets from you," Death explained before waving its skeletal hand towards the window, fingers clicking. "Others, though, have forgotten my magic, and so they have lost the understanding I once gifted them."
"Can I teach them again?" Harry asked, looking down at the book again. "I won't live forever, after all, and it's not fair that this magic might die with me."
Skeletal fingers caressed Harry's cheek and he looked up into the heavy darkness of Death's hood. "Master," it whispered, genderless voice rattling, "I would be most grateful."
And then Death was gone, the sensation of bone fingers lingering against Harry's cheek.
Harry sighed and got up to put the runic book away on his small bookshelf, then returned to his bed to start on Death's book, half hoping there would be some sort of steps for teaching others how to read the book, but fully expecting he'd have to learn that trick through trial and error.
During the last week of November, the day after the full moon, Sirius got an owl from the Ministry saying there was a position for him in the aurors. He'd actually gone a bit back and forth about whether he wanted to join, given their stance on non-humans, but Remus and Harry were both sick of him mucking about the house all day and, as Harry said, "Better to know your enemy than live in ignorance," which had made Sirius scowl, but he'd sent his request to join their ranks off.
Harry went to the Bloody Eyetooth same as usual on December's dark moon. He waited there until Carmilla showed up well after sunset – she'd become something of an advisor for him in regards to the vampires – then motioned her forward and explained, "I have something to see to tonight, while my guardians expect me to be otherwise occupied. It should take me no longer than an hour."
Carmilla shrugged. "Anything interesting?" she asked a bit absently as she accepted the glass of warm blood from the vampire bartender.
Harry flashed her a smile that was all teeth. "Just a few muggles who need to choke on their own blood."
Her eyes lit up and she licked her lips. "Mm. Alpha Lord, you are tempting me to follow along."
Harry snorted, as he intended to travel by using a trick he'd learnt in Death's book, which used the Realm of Death as a sort of shortcut through the living realm. "Only if you can," he told her before motioning and manipulating the thin barrier between life and death, opening a doorway just big enough for himself. "One hour," he promised, trying not to smile at her abhorrent expression.
"Do feel free to return in such a manner outside the pub, my Lord," she complained.
"Apologies," he offered honestly, looking between Carmilla and the vampire bartender, both of whom were clearly disturbed by his manipulation of the Death magic.
He stepped through his doorway and absently closed it behind himself, already motioning to cast another spell that would show him the quickest path to where his next doorway would be.
He passed dozens of dark shades during his journey, some floating around listlessly, others floating in one place. It was wholly depressing, and he was quite grateful to reach his destination after only six minutes of walking; in truth, he could understand why the vampires so disliked anything to do with the Realm of Death, though he expected their distaste was more tied to their immortality than the aesthetics.
Death appeared when Harry opened the doorway that should let him out into the Dursleys' entrance hall. "You will be sending me souls, Master?" it asked, sounding almost hopeful.
"I shall be sending you three," Harry promised with a smile that was, perhaps, a little too bloodthirsty, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care; the Dursleys had this day coming.
"I look forward to it." Death motioned him on, so Harry stepped into the ground hall.
Voices came from the dining room, the lateness of the year meaning that, even with Carmilla's late arrival, he was there in time for dinner. He stopped to listen for a moment, his smile widening as he recognised a fourth voice. "Ah," he whispered, glancing back towards the closing doorway into the Realm of Death, "it seems you're in luck, Death; you will be receiving four souls tonight." And Harry would have the chance to destroy the one childhood tormentor that he'd never found it within himself to grant even a partial forgiveness.
He stepped into the kitchen doorway and leaned against the door jam, waiting for someone to notice him. It took a while, but Petunia did finally spot him. She went deathly pale and let out a shuddery little noise that might have been his name, but was more likely meant as a sound of horror.
Vernon and Marge both turned to look at Petunia, then followed her gaze to the boy in the kitchen doorway. Harry had put on a smile, pleased at his aunt's reaction, but not quite to the point of baring his teeth with the intention of terrifying them. Vernon, as consequence, paled at first, then turned purple, puffing up with indignation and self-importance.
"Come back, have you, boy?" Marge demanded. "Realise what a good soul my brother was for taking you in and decided to try worming–"
"You are a thoroughly disgusting individual," Harry interrupted, tone conversational. "Quite the fool, too, but I suppose that's simply a misfortune written into your genes."
"You dare–!" Marge started, standing and brushing off Petunia's cautioning hand.
Harry smiled a death-grin, baring too sharp teeth, and flicked a wandless spell at the woman which snapped her neck. Marge dropped like a tonne of bricks.
"Mum says hi," Harry said into the following silence, the Dursleys staring down at Marge's body in horror. "She asked me, actually, if I wouldn't mind reminding you, Aunt Petunia, of the last time the two of you had tea." Petunia went, if possible, even paler and turned terrified eyes on Harry. "She wouldn't tell me exactly what all threats she promised, but I figure I can make it up as I go along, yeah? Reckon I'm clever enough to make her happy."
"Please," Petunia whispered.
Harry let out a laugh meant to grate on the nerves and was pleased to see all three muggles flinch. The scent of urine filled the kitchen and Harry wrinkled his nose. "Oh, come on." He looked at his cousin, who looked to be about two seconds from fainting in terror. "Was that you, Dudley? That is pathetic." He huffed. "Fine, you know what, I can be gracious." He flicked the spell at Dudley to snap his neck, granting him a fairly painless end.
"You two," he continued, looking between his aunt and uncle, "will not be enjoying such a peaceful end."
He probably should have felt ashamed at the terrified whimpers Petunia and Vernon let out, but all he felt was pleasure and a sort of distant relief that, once he'd left this house, this chapter of his life would be over.
When Harry stepped back into Bloody Eyetooth not quite an hour after he'd left, absently picking at the flecks of blood stuck under his nails, he found five vampires clustered around Carmilla, the rest of the pub silent as they watched what looked to be a nasty confrontation. Harry's entrance, however, had caught everyone's attention, and two of the vampires took a step towards him, teeth bared.
Harry raised an eyebrow at them, fully relaxed after his earlier exercises. "Did you need something?" he asked.
"You are an imposter, a pretender hoping to take a throne that will never be filled!" one of the vampires who'd stepped forward declared.
"Am I now?" Harry asked, unimpressed. "And what leads you to that belief?"
"No one so weak, so pitiful, could hope to lead non-humans to victory!"
Harry smiled, tips of too-sharp teeth just barely showing between his lips. He motioned for the vampire to come at him with one hand while his other hand curled close to his chest, readying a spell meant to act as sunlight against a vampire's skin. With so many other vampires in attendance, he'd have to be careful in using it, but that was a minor matter.
Both of the closer vampires jumped towards him. Harry sidestepped one of them as he pressed the hand with the sunlight spell against the stomach of the other. The one who caught the spell let out a scream of agony even as he turned to dust.
Harry didn't bother watching the dying vampire, instead turning to the one who had run past him. He had just regained his balance and was turning towards Harry with hatred in his eyes, but an absent motion had a doorway to the Realm of Death opening behind him, and another motion had him shoved backwards into it before he could realise the danger. The doorway closed as Harry turned back to the room, dust still settling between him and his audience.
"Anyone else want to complain about my age?" Harry asked curiously.
The three vampires still standing in front of Carmilla wisely exited through the floo without another word.
Harry let out a hum and walked over to his usual spot next to Carmilla. She looked distinctly unwell and he frowned. "I can have them hunted down, if you want," he offered as he shot the bartender a sharp look. The man hurried to collect a glass of blood for the Countess at Harry's side.
"I appreciate the offer, Alpha Lord," Carmilla whispered, voice rasping like dry paper, "but I expect they'll be beyond the reach of even the most talented of hunters before you could contract one." She accepted the glass of blood with a grateful nod and drank it like a woman starved.
"You underestimate my hunter," Harry murmured, the words fond. "Will you take care of them for me?" he asked the air, certain the one he was speaking to wasn't far.
Death appeared next to the door of the pub, far enough away from any of the vampires in the room to keep from distressing them. (Next to Harry, Carmilla let out a choked noise before letting out a slightly startled laugh.) "As my Master wills," Death promised before vanishing.
"One day, Alpha Lord, I will remember not to underestimate you," Carmilla promised.
Harry chuckled. "On the contrary, my Lady, I expect you will continue to do so for the rest of my life. It is simply to your advantage that I am so very fond of you that I cannot bring myself to be offended."
Carmilla pressed a bloody kiss to his cheek. "You may be correct, my Lord. In which case, it seems I must, instead, endeavour to remain in your good graces."
"My Lady, I have every faith in you," Harry promised and she smiled.
"Harry," Sirius said over dinner some days later, sounding uncertain.
"Sirius?" Harry returned, glancing up at him from where he'd been refilling his pumpkin juice.
"I heard today that your aunt and uncle are dead."
"Are they? Hm." Harry returned his attention to his food. "Well, good riddance to bad rubbish and so on."
"It seems they were murdered," Sirius added.
Harry blinked. "Oh? Any culprits?"
"No so far as I know."
"Why?" Remus asked, his question clearly addressed to Harry.
Harry flashed him a toothy smile. "Why, I'd like to nominate them for a medal."
Remus snorted while Sirius let out a loud laugh, and that was the last time the Dursleys were ever mentioned in their home.
Stand Against the Moon Chapters:
Prologue - Like a Ghost in My Town
1 - Procuring Freedom | 2 - Exeunt From Hell, Stage Left | 3 - Never Quite Perfect
4 - Drop the Shades |
7 - Determining Boundaries | 8 - International Acclaim | 9 - Age of Mystery
10 - Absence | 11 - Eye of the Storm | 12 - No Regrets
Nose to the Wind Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20
21 || 22 || 23 || 24 || 25 || 26 || 27
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