I - Moving to Forks
Harry Potter sighed impatiently and tapped his foot, resisting the urge to shove his way out of the damned plane. He rubbed his temples in agitation, his slender fingers clenching his carry-on bag as his eyebrow twitched. If he felt even more hot breath down his neck, he wasn’t so sure if he could restrain himself from ripping out throats. Harry nearly cried out in relief when he was able to exit the plane. As he stepped out into the airport, Harry smiled somewhat sadly. His heart felt both heavy and light at the same time. Heavy because he missed London and his friends terribly, yet light because a change in scenery was much needed.
Ever since the war was over and Voldemort was dead, Harry felt like something in his life was missing. He had distressed over feeling his way, especially since the Weasleys and Hermione had been so kind to him and were basically his family. Harry had figured when the war was all over, he could enjoy life and relax. But, instead, he was restless. And, after enduring such torture for a couple of years, Harry finally worked up the courage to take his money out of his Gringotts’ vaults, not all of it though, and decided to relocate to America. Of course, he had first researched places that wouldn’t…ah…affect him badly. See, Harry, for years now, has kept a secret from everybody. Not that he didn’t trust anybody well enough, no, that wasn’t the reason. After years of being belittled by his only living blood relatives, fear of rejection ruled deeply within Harry’s heart. Even the Weasleys and Hermione couldn’t accept him completely if they knew what he was.
For ten years, since just before the Final Battle, Harry Potter has been a vampire. This came to be a few nights before his birthday while he took a stroll through Privet Drive, attempting to make it back to his current residence before night fell and he was encompassed by total darkness. Of course, the only way to do this would have been to take shortcuts. One moment he was walking calmly down an alleyway, the next he was slammed against the wall and something was biting his neck. He had tried to fight off the thing that was attacking him, but the only thing he managed to do was bruise his hands and legs. It was at that moment, when he felt his life draining him, that he realized the thing that attacked him wasn’t human. No, that was all too painfully clear when he felt those teeth in his skin and the assailant’s mouth sucking blood from his wound. He was getting weaker and weaker, and had no strength to go for his wand and retaliate against the being. When he was completely drained of life and his heart was beating painfully slowly, the creature dropped him carelessly onto the ground. A nearby street lamp glowed, its light spreading to Harry’s forehead where his hair had parted to show the tell-tale lightning bolt scar.
“Oh, fuck, I just drained Harry Potter!” Harry’s attacker had said, panicky as the creature paced back and forth. “What the hell am I going to do? I’ll be tortured if the Elder gets wind of this!”
Harry had groaned, his eyes starting to close on their own accord. The rest of what happened had been a blur for Harry, not remembering much except for an overwhelming sense of pain. His blood felt like it was searing in his veins and traveling throughout his body, burning him completely. The agony was unbearable and he had screamed for hours; it was a wonder nobody came to find him. Of course, while he was delirious with pain, he hadn’t been able to feel his attacker lift him up and Apparate them away to someplace unknown to him.
It felt like an eternity when his blood finally stopped feeling like magma. Instead of the searing heat it had been, it had cooled down into something tingly. Harry awoke feeling completely different. He felt like, well, like he was reborn. His body changed in ways he couldn’t fathom; his hair had gotten longer, his nails were now elongated and looked deadly, his body was more lithe and graceful, and he was all too aware of the new, pointy teeth in his mouth. Hesitantly, Harry’s hand lifted and gingerly touched his neck where his new scar resided. It didn’t hurt, but still he flinched. Harry swallowed thickly when the reality of what happened started to sink in. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t feel any anger or disgust at what he had become. Instead, he felt acceptance, curiosity, and a twinge of excitement. A part of him felt like he should hate the fact that he now had to drink blood in order to “live”, but he didn’t. Harry had a gut feeling that everything would end up alright and that feeling was only reinforced when he realized the thought of drinking human blood made him nauseous.
His stomach was burning, though, and he knew that he’d have to feed soon. The gnawing in his stomach, while getting increasingly worse, was merely uncomfortable and not at all painful. It was quite odd and the thought of warm, rich blood sliding down his throat made him salivate. Harry looked around the room he was in for the exquisite elixir of life when he took in his surroundings for the first time since his awakening. There was a small desk in the corner next to the door. It had a laptop, a lamp, and a couple of books atop it. Harry found himself walking to the door, away from the twin bed he had been resting on, which was the only other piece of furniture in the otherwise bare room, and twisted the knob. He gasped as the doorknob crushed instantly in his hand. Harry jerked his hand away, only to pull the small part off the door complete. Awkwardly, Harry placed the squished up doorknob on the desk. Upon hearing footsteps, Harry stiffened, ears perking and nose twitching.
A masculine scent wafted through his nose as well as a frightened, female one. He could smell the blood rushing through the female’s veins and suppressed the very human urge to be sick. Harry frowned and quickly retreated to the back of the room, his body zooming across the room quietly with inhuman speed. Despite the door currently missing the other half of the knob, it opened easily enough. Immediately, the most handsome man Harry had ever laid eyes on entered the room, a leash that was attached to the woman’s neck in his hand. He had silky, mid-back length blonde hair that glistened even in the dim light. Hazel eyes gazed into Harry’s emerald ones deeply as if the man was trying to look into Harry’s soul, or what was left of it. The man was dressed in silk, pulling off an aristocratic air that Harry thought only the Malfoy’s could manage. Now that he thought about it, this man looked like a Malfoy, except for the eyes, of course. His skin was smooth and pale, like alabaster or marble, unlike Harry’s golden tan.
“I see you’re awake,” the man said softly, his voice more beautiful and musical than that of a piano. “I brought you some food.”
Harry’s already pale face blanched even further as he realized the terrified woman was to be his dinner. “No,” he said strongly, feeling surprised as his own voice sounded somewhat musical and enchanting. “I will not feed from humans.”
The man frowned slightly. “Aw, and I went through all the trouble of catching her. Oh well, I suppose.” He turned to the woman and used his claws to cut the leash he had on her. She squeaked in fright and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head. Harry managed to catch her quite easily and walked over to the bed. Almost gently, he put her in it.
“Who’re you? And why’d you attack me?” Harry demanded, looking blankly at the vampire that had the decency to look both sheepish and guilty.
“Well, my name is Acastus,” the vampire mumbled before smiling apologetically. “And I’m terribly sorry about changing you. It wasn’t my intention. I hadn’t fed for a while and just tackled the next sweet smelling human I could reach.”
Harry blinked in surprise. “I smelled sweet? Is that good or bad?”
“Both,” Acastus decided with a half-smirk. “Good for us vampires looking for a particularly tasty meal; bad for you for that makes you an easy target.”
Harry pondered this. “And how do I smell now?” he asked hesitantly, not quite sure if he wanted to know the answer.
Acastus grinned slightly as he appeared next to Harry in an instant, leaning in and breathing in the scent of Harry’s neck deeply. “You smell just as divine now as you did then,” he whispered huskily. Harry gulped inaudibly and maneuvered his way around the now laughing vampire.
“Why did you bring me here?” Harry demanded, feeling more than slightly awkward.
“I couldn’t leave you in the street,” Acastus said seriously, all signs of joking erased completely. “Newborn vampires are–”
“Stronger, faster, and thirstier than seasoned ones. I know all of this,” Harry interrupted. “But, as you can see, I don’t thirst for human blood. So how about letting me go?”
“Nice try,” Acastus said, smirking slightly. “You still need to be trained, and as your Sire, the responsibility falls to me.”
Harry considered this carefully; he obviously needed the help controlling his strength–the poor doorknob had been a fine example of this–and he really couldn’t tell anyone else about his becoming a vampire. The Wizarding World would without a doubt cast him out; label him a dark creature and, after he got rid of their screw up, accuse him of trying to become another Dark Lord. The logical part of Harry’s brain told him he couldn’t trust Acastus–that he didn’t know what this vampire was capable of or what he could do. Another part of him, though, told him that Acastus was trustworthy and would never hurt him.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry asked, looking at the amused vampire suspiciously.
Acastus sauntered over towards Harry, his hips swaying dangerously. Harry unconsciously moved backwards until a wall collided with his back. With a laugh, Acastus placed both of his arms on either side of Harry, leaning in close to take another deep breath of that deliciously sweet-smelling scent. “Trust your gut,” he whispered seductively. “I am your Sire, Harry. Do you know what this means?”
“Yes,” Harry muttered, shifting uncomfortably as he avoided Acastus’ gaze. Harry felt pretty stupid for allowing himself to be so distracted by Acastus that he actually forgot his lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
“Say it,” Acastus murmured, pressing his lips against Harry’s sweet, pale neck.
Harry gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, before he found the strength to speak. It was a bit hard to concentrate when Acastus’ hard body was pressed against his own–he couldn’t deny the tiny inkling of attraction he felt towards the blond vampire. “As my Sire, I will feel safe with you. There’s a bond between us and even if we hated each other, we wouldn’t be able to attack each other,” Harry replied, swallowing the venom that filled his mouth.
The blond vampire chuckled slightly and backed away, though his eyes still smoldered with lust. “Exactly,” he said happily, seemingly ignoring what had transpired between them mere moments ago.
Harry was silent a while. “I’m supposed to stay with my relatives,” he said somewhat sadly. “Apparently, while I’m at their house, Death Eaters can’t attack me.”
Acastus rolled his eyes. “Your relatives are Muggles, right? It’ll take very little to convince them to not only keep their mouths shut but to also let you spend the rest of the summer with me. Besides, you’re a vampire now. Do you really think staying with your relatives will be the best for your protection?”
Harry seemed to ponder this for a while. “I hope you have a plan,” he decided, offering Acastus a small grin.
With a small sigh, Harry left the airport and pulled out a piece of paper. Acastus had been the one to set everything up for him–with a bit more enthusiasm than Harry had expected–and had also been a little disappointed that Harry wished to live alone. Harry knew Acastus wasn’t really hurt, though; their relationship, while strange, was that of really good friends. Well, friends that once had an attraction towards each other. Setting his eyes on the instructions, Harry almost immediately found the car Acastus had bought him and when he had, his jaw nearly dropped to the ground. While the piece of paper merely claimed that the car, which was a convertible, would be black, shiny, and have a green lightning bolt on both sides with a silver outline, he hadn’t expected the car to be so damn new!
Harry wasn’t car-savvy, but he knew a hot car when he saw one. He hadn’t expected such a sexy, exotic piece of machinery when Acastus had said that he bought Harry a car; then again, knowing Acastus, Harry really should’ve expected it. The blond vampire loved to spoil Harry with luxurious gifts under the pretense that he thought Harry would look hotter in whatever was purchased. Harry knew the real reason, though; as his Sire, Acastus felt the need to take care of him. Harry was his Childe, and though they had more of a friend type of bond, there were still instincts that came naturally. The raven-haired vampire knew better than to fight with Acastus, though he still felt embarrassed with pleasure at being spoiled. Having never had much as a child, Harry gladly accepted what Acastus wanted to give him, even though at the beginning Harry felt guilty for accepting the lavish treatment.
Excitedly hopping into the car, Harry groaned at the smell of new leather and smiled widely. The keys were in his carry-on, according to the spidery instructions, and Harry was more than happy to start driving the car. He also had his Muggle license–something Hermione had insisted he and Ron get about five years back–and his emancipation papers. Harry was having a new start which meant he was going to be sixteen all over again, and, therefore, was going to be attending the local high school. Since he had no guardian, Acastus easily whipped up emancipation papers and other documentation Harry would need like the lease to his new, completely furnished house.
Giddiness filled Harry up like a cup. He never had anticipated that starting anew would be so much fun. Following the directions on a different piece of paper, Harry was able to successfully navigate his way to his new house without too much trouble; being new to the country, he felt exceptionally happy that he only got lost once. Parking his car, Harry gasped softly at the beautiful house that was his. Acastus really had outdone himself this time and Harry knew if he were still human, tears of happiness would fall from his jeweled eyes. Harry happily entered the house and absentmindedly placed his bag on the small table by the door.
There were two floors to the house. Harry discovered that the ground floor held a dining room, kitchen, bathroom, living room, and a hallway with two closets. Going upstairs, there was another bathroom, another closet, and two bedrooms. The master bedroom, which would be Harry’s, was decorated in emerald and black. There were traces of silver and Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the Slytherin touch; Acastus was more-than-likely laughing evilly as he decorated. There was a computer desk with a laptop and a lamp on it on one wall. Right next to it was a bookshelf filled with many genres–Harry was certain that had Hermione been there, she would have immediately dived into them–and a comfortable-looking beanbag chair to the left of the bookshelf. In the center of the room was a large canopy bed with a numerous amount of pillows. Across from the bed was a plasma television complete with surround sound. Harry sighed happily, realizing that this place was his new home. The house was so homey and gave off a comfortable vibe that Harry couldn’t help but be completely relaxed.
He smiled gratefully when he noticed picture frames on the bedside tables of him, Ron, and Hermione. On one of the shelves was a photo album and Harry gently grabbed it. Flipping through the pages, he felt immensely happy when he saw photographs of his family. In the beginning pages were pictures of his parents and godparents–kindly donated to Harry from Hagrid his first year at Hogwarts. After that, there were pictures of the Golden Trio during their years at Hogwarts. The vampire smiled sadly and touched the picture of a smiling Cedric Diggory, closing his eyes and fighting the warring emotions inside. Once he was calm enough, Harry flipped through more of the pages. He laughed at a picture of his godson Teddy running around with his diaper in his hands and his grandmother Andromeda chasing after him, her face that of amusement, embarrassment, and frustration. There were pictures of Rose, Harry’s niece and Ron and Hermione’s daughter, along with the other new additions to the Weasley family.
Closing the book, Harry sighed happily and skipped downstairs. He walked into the kitchen and, when discovering Acastus hadn’t gotten him food, grabbed his car keys and left his house. It was only Friday and Harry was hungry. Though he craved the blood of animals, Harry had soon discovered after his turning that he could also eat human food, though he would never get full from it. It had confused him when he found out he could still eat what he normally ate. He could taste it, feel it going down his throat, but he wouldn’t feel the satisfaction of a meal like he had when he actually was human. This was how he managed to keep his secret from his family for years and this was also how he was going to continue to keep it.
Driving aimlessly around the town, Harry finally spotted a store and stopped to get directions. He had expected the stares aimed at his car; after all, the townspeople of Forks probably couldn’t afford to own such sleek automobiles. He never noticed the four cars pull up, nor did he notice the seven pairs of eyes that stared at him.
