A Vampire's Soul

A Vampire’s Soul, chapter twenty-eight

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, slight Harry/Ron, Harry/Remus, slight Harry/others, other male/male, other threesomes and foursomes (het and slash)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Vampires, so there’s blood mentioned; violence; death; Slash; slight Het, multi-partners. ALSO, there will be a few OCs, only because I need them for the story/plotline, but Proudfoot is a name mentioned in book six, I just don’t know his personality.

Words: About 6,200

Notes: There’s Original Characters in the fic, and I apologize. Harry’s role in the Daywalkers’ world is growing, thus there needs to be Daywalker characters (as well as other Werewolves). This is post-HBP. There are SOME spoilers for Deathly Hallows in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters, nor do I own anything from Dracula or from any other show. I do own all the other characters in this story that isn’t in the Potter books.
.-.

“A Dark Daywalker?” said Harry, perplexed. “What’s that?”

“It’s a creature that, until now, had been thought of as a myth,” said Moon.

“Why do you think that it’s not a myth anymore?” asked Draco, feeling queasy from just looking at Sanguini’s body. “Anything could have attacked Sanguini and drained him dry.”

Moon shook his head sadly. “Not so. Daywalkers can normally get away from anything life-threatening, but only a handful of other creatures are able to kill a Daywalker easily.”

“Maybe it wasn’t easy,” suggested Harry.

Moon gestured at Sanguini’s body. “This wasn’t done by a werewolf or any other creature known to us. The only things around here that would suck another vampire’s fluids are soulless creatures, but usually when they bite a Daywalker they either Turn them into one of their own, or they just let them bleed to death. As you can see, Sanguini has been sucked dry, and a soulless vampire would not do that unless they mean to Turn them.”

“Like they did to Harry,” said Scrimgeour, frowning.

“Right,” said Moon. “Harry had been bitten by a soulless one twice now, and was nearly one of them both times.”

“So, you’re saying that some other type of vampire, that’s Dark, did this?” said Harry, trying not to look at Sanguini’s body anymore.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Moon.

Patrick Mizar pulled Vega away from Sanguini, but it wasn’t easy; Vega kept wanting to go back to his dead Sire’s side.

“There’s nothing you can do, Vega,” Patrick said soothingly. “Come, there’s much planning to do for your Sire’s Honorary Funeral…”

“I’ll kill’em,” Vega snarled, cheeks still stained with tears, but his eyes were burning with vengeance. “I’ll kill the bastard that killed my Sire!”

“Yes, yes,” placated Patrick. “We’ll all do what we can…”

Most stayed still and didn’t speak a word, either for respect of their old friend or in mourning. Vega and a couple other Daywalkers were distressed the most, and Harry felt a pain in his chest as he silently remembered all the times he’d talked to Sanguini. He’d seen how Michael Barnard coped with his Sire dying, and it tugged at his soul fiercely. It made Harry wonder also whom else Sanguini had Sired; sometimes a Daywalker had more than one Fledgling.

“I don’t understand,” said Draco, his voice barely a whisper, but the few around him and Harry heard him. “How could a Daywalker turn so Dark that he or she would start drinking another Daywalker’s blood? Is it because they didn’t get enough regular blood, or that they don’t eat normal human food, or what?”

“It can be a combination of any of those things,” said Moon. “But the fact of the matter is, we just don’t know what happened to the Daywalker that became corrupted that made them do this…”

“Wait,” said Harry. “What about that stranger? He didn’t seem… I mean could he have been the Dark Daywalker?”

Before Moon or Draco could voice their opinions, there was applause and someone above them saying, “Oh, good show, Mr. Potter! You really are as intelligent as they’ve been saying.”

Everyone turned around at once, and those that had wands pulled them out, or unsheathed their silver stakes and pointed them at the stranger.

“YOU,” growled Harry, brandishing his own wand. “You did this, didn’t you?”

There was more light shining on the stranger now, but they still couldn’t see his face real well. He was in a tree, above them, looking unfazed by everything. He shrugged in a nonchalant way, and said, “What if I was the one?”

“Did you or did you not kill my Sire?” Vega demanded, pointing his semi-automatic weapon at the stranger.

“Hmm, well, since lying is a sin, I guess I’ll tell you…” the stranger smiled, and then, without an ounce of remorse, said, “Yeah, it was me; I drained him completely dry… And he tasted SO good…”

Without warning, Vega fired off one of his silver stakes, but the stranger gripped the branch he was sitting on and flipped backward to avoid getting hit. Then, he flipped back up into a sitting position, grin gone.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it?”

Vega was going to fire off another stake, but Patrick stopped him. “Wait,” he whispered.

“He killed my Sire! Why should I spare the bastard?”

The stranger laughed. “Oh, isn’t this lovely?” then his voice turned grave. “You Daywalkers are such sentimental fools. It’s a wonder you’re still around. If you keep acting as if you’re still human, you’ll go extinct for sure.”

“So you’re not one of us, then?” said Nicholas. He had walked up beside Vega and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. His Calming Demeanor worked instantly, but Vega was still in pain from the loss of his Sire, so he laid his head on Patrick’s shoulder.

The stranger grinned impishly. “No. I’m better than a Daywalker.”

“What are you?” Harry asked, hoping he’d finally get an answer.

“Ah, that, my dear Chosen Glowy Daywalker is none of your business… at least for now. But you all may call me—drum roll please!” He broke off a couple twigs from the tree and pretended the branch under him was a drum and did his own drum roll complete with a cymbal noise through his teeth. “Algol!”

They all stared at him, blinking. This guy was completely mental!

“So you’re really the one that killed Sanguini?” said Proudfoot suddenly. They all turned their heads to stare at him. Surprisingly, Proudfoot was standing tall, something they weren’t used to seeing and it stumped most of the Daywalkers. Proudfoot was usually more timid and withdrawn than this, especially around vampires.

“Yes,” grinned Algol. “I am.”

“And you’re responsible for killing all those other innocent Daywalkers?”

Other innocent Daywalkers? Harry stared at Proudfoot, confused.

Algol buffed his nails across his chest and then looked at them in a bored manner. “Yes, so what if I am? What’re YOU going to do about it, wolf cub?”

“This,” said Proudfoot in a no-nonsense tone, pulled out his wand, and aimed it at Algol. “You’re under arrest.”

Gasps and then befuddled silence fell. Algol blinked, obviously taken off guard, and then began to laugh hysterically and almost fell out of the tree. Holding onto the branch with one hand and his other on his stomach, Algol wheezed, “Will you look at this! The wee puppy is a Wizard Law Enforcer type person! Isn’t this a hoot! How long have you been hiding here among these trusting Daywalkers and haven’t told them the truth, huh? Or did they know that you were working under cover? By the looks on their faces, I guess they didn’t know, did they? Well, too bad for you, Officer Pup, but I don’t recognize wizarding law!”

Vega was the first to come out of his stupor, and aimed his cestus at Algol again. “Recognize this, you bastard!”

Before any of them could stop him, he fired two more stakes at Algol. Apparently not wanting to fool around any more, Algol raised a hand up in front of him, and the stakes halted in mid-air. Everyone gaped. The only ones they knew of that could use their mind powers were Prince Vlad and Edward Von Wolf, but they rarely showed off those powers.

Algol looked extremely pissed off.

“You wanna play hard ball, then we’ll play hard ball!” Algol’s eyes glowed bright yellow as he turned his sights on Proudfoot, and then, with just his mind, spun the stakes around so that they faced away from him. “Goodbye, Officer Puppy.”

They shot straight at Proudfoot.

“NO!!” Proudfoot cried, and suddenly he had an armful of Vega, blood soaking into his robes. Harry’s jaw dropped. Vega Manns had just jumped in front of Proudfoot and took his own stakes into his chest. Proudfoot, throat tightening with emotion and heart drumming hard in his chest, kept a tight hold on Vega—the Daywalker who had almost Bonded with him.

“Vega…” Nicholas choked, kneeling down to automatically place his arms around the other Daywalker, sandwiching him between him and Proudfoot. He tried to use what he could of his Calming powers to help ease Vega’s suffering.

The fight for Proudfoot suddenly seemed far away, or hadn’t been real: there had been no fight and the two Daywalkers were old friends as always, smiling at each other, understanding, hoping, reminiscing . . . .

Ear pressed against Proudfoot’s chest, the last thing Vega heard before his soul left his body was the sweet thump, thump, thump of Proudfoot’s heart.

The silence was deafening. The air around them felt thick, almost choking; Harry could feel the difference, and it chilled him to the bone. Everyone, including Proudfoot, was fighting to regain their sanity and their surroundings; it was so unreal to all of them, the pain was too much. One by one, more Daywalkers kneeled on the ground around them, touching Vega one last time.

“Murderer!” Patrick suddenly cried, standing from the huddled bodies around Vega’s lifeless husk. “I’ll have your head on a pike for this!”

“Patrick, no!” Harry shouted, grasping Patrick’s wrist to pull him back. “We don’t want you dead too.”

Algol grinned in amusement, apparently not caring at all about how they all felt. Harry understood Patrick’s anger and sorrow, and he wanted to join in and kill Algol, but if they were up against some kind of dark vampire that was older than Prince Vlad…

“Listen to the Chosen Glowy One,” Algol snickered. “Still, it doesn’t matter; you will die some day anyway, but if you want to prolong your so-called life you better keep a cool head on your shoulders… while it’s still there.”

“You’ll regret this,” Ethan growled, pointing his wand at Algol. “Mark my words, you crazy son-of-a-bitch!”

“Let’s not get feisty now,” Algol said, still sounding amused. “Do you wish to end up like your little friends?” He glanced at Vega and then Sanguini.

“If we all take you on at once, you won’t stand a chance!” sneered Irene Sculptor, her face shining with tears.

Algol was unmoved by all the mourning, sorrow, and tears on the Daywalkers’ faces. “Would you risk it, Youth?” he said, eyes narrowed in a dare, and when Irene took a half step forward, his eyes glowed. The cestuses on her wrists suddenly fell off with a clink. Irene went rigid, her eyes widening with shock.

“Didn’t know I could do that, did you?” Algol smirked.

“How—how old are you?” Moon asked as politely as he could, despite his shock.

Algol didn’t seem to want to answer; he just sat there and smirked.

“He’s absolutely mad,” whispered Draco into Harry’s ear. “Completely out of his head.”

Harry nodded, too shocked and filled with grief to say anything.

“Hmm, well isn’t all this so terribly sad,” said Algol mockingly, pretending to be sad too by wiping at his eyes. “But, I must go for now. Before I do, I must warn you all right now: DON’T come looking for me just for revenge. I can hide better than your best Daywalker, so don’t even try. I will decide when you will see me next time; I will come looking for YOU.”

He pointed into the crowd, supposedly meaning everyone there, but somehow Harry felt as if he was pointing directly at him.

“Wait a minute!” shouted Irene. “You can’t just kill Vega and Sanguini and leave!”

“Why not?”

“Er, because, it’s… because…”

Algol stood from his spot, on the branch, and smiled down at her. “Sorry, love, but I must go. I’m actually quite busy…”

“Busy doing what?” Ethan demanded. “Killing Daywalkers for fun?”

Algol grinned big and wide, his eyes sparkling with a glee that only Harry could think of as mental.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said, and then cut his gaze toward Harry. “Enjoy your hunt for soul pieces, Glowy Chosen Daywalker Boy.” He saluted, and then transformed into the biggest vampire bat they’d ever seen and flew away. The Daywalkers were so caught up in their grief that they didn’t even think to try shooting Algol down in his bat form.

“Wait,” said Patrick, eyeing Harry. “What did Algol mean by hunt for soul pieces?”

Harry froze, his stomach doing funny flips. It wasn’t so much as to what Algol meant by it, but just how he knew about it in the first place. Did Algol overhear him during some time he was talking about the Horcruxes? But that was impossible. The only time he would mention them was when he talked to those that already knew about them.

Did someone betray him? Did Snape tell someone and Algol overheard their conversation? Maybe he overheard Remus talking about it with Snape and they only thought they were alone. There was so many possibilities, it made Harry’s head spin.

Draco was giving him a look between confusion and worry. He must be wondering the same thing Harry was.

“Let’s talk about all this later, when we’re back and safe in Castle Dracula,” said Moon. The elder had a point, and together, along with the two dead bodies of their loved ones, they slowly made their way back home.

.-.

Immediately after they entered the castle, there were many confused and wretched looks shared. They were still silent as the bodies were carried into the initiation room. A handful of Daywalkers were still crying, especially a Youth whom was crying loads. Harry was told later that the Youth boy was the Fledgling of Vega.

Harry couldn’t stand seeing all this pain, so he made his way out of the initiation room toward the bedchamber he’d been using since he’d been there. Draco, Scrimgeour, Proudfoot, Nicholas, and Neal followed him. The grief and misery was thick in the air, and Harry felt as if he could choke on it.

The moment the door shut and Harry lay back on the bed, Nicholas rounded on Proudfoot.

“You’re an Auror! Why didn’t you tell me—wait, never mind,” he sighed. “I know why.”

Proudfoot nodded sadly. “Yes, I’ve been undercover for some time now.”

“Sorry about deceiving you,” said Scrimgeour suddenly, placing a hand onto Proudfoot’s shoulder. “But he’s been working under me for a few months now and we couldn’t afford to say anything until we made headway with the case.”

“Working under you?” said Nicholas, raising an eyebrow.

“I am the minister,” said Scrimgeour, the corner of his lip lifting slightly. “And yes, Proudfoot is working for me on a special case.”

“To catch Algol,” said Harry in understanding. “But you didn’t know who it was doing all that killing, did you?”

Proudfoot shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“Can you tell us now?” Neal asked calmly.

Proudfoot looked up at Scrimgeour, and Scrimgeour shrugged a shoulder. “Go ahead; I trust everyone here in this room.”

Proudfoot nodded. “Ok. Well, it all started with a case of a missing girl. At the time, it wasn’t known yet that she was a Daywalker. The girl’s mother came to us after owling us about it and asked if we could try finding her. Well, Aurors don’t go looking for missing people, that’s up to the Ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol.”

“Algol called you that, sort of,” said Draco.

“Yeah, but that’s what he thought I was. I’m really an Auror.”

“Dark Wizard catcher,” said Harry. “Yeah, it makes sense.”

“Anyway, Proudfoot,” said Nicholas. “You were saying?”

“Oh, right. So, I sent a memo to the OMLEP, and they got to work on it straightaway…”

“So, why did the mother come to you first?” Draco asked.

“She obviously thought that Aurors did everything, I guess,” said Proudfoot. “She was sweet, but often confused. She had thought once that you could get your Apparition license at any time during school, as long as you knew how. Anyway, back to the original story. . . .

“So, they got my memo and went looking for the missing girl. Well, it took them a month to find her, but when they did, she was a dried up corpse.”

Harry’s mouth fell open.

Proudfoot nodded sadly at Harry’s expression. “Yeah, that was how they found out she was a Daywalker and that something had completely drained her. Well, the myth about the unknown Dark Daywalker was discovered a week or two later, but no one really believed it, so it stayed a mystery. I still had a hunch that something was living near the Black Forest just to drain all those Daywalkers dry. You see, after I had found out about the little girl, I stuck around the forest and kept discovering more and more dead Daywalkers, drained the same way.”

“Algol never saw you snooping around?” Neal asked.

“No, because I’m a werewolf.” When the others looked confused, except Scrimgeour, Proudfoot explained, “The Dark Daywalker, Algol, wasn’t really interested in werewolves. Just like normal Daywalkers, he can’t stand the taste of werewolf blood; but unlike a normal Daywalker, it can literally kill him.”

“How do you know this?” said Harry, flabbergasted.

Proudfoot shrugged. “I really can’t tell you that, because it’s top secret.”

When Harry still looked confused, Scrimgeour explained: “Unspeakable stuff.”

“Oh.”

“There had been records in the past about Dark vampires or Daywalkers, but some of them were just shrugged off as nothing but rubbish. Anyway, when I started to add two and two together, I went to the minister about it.”

Scrimgeour nodded. “I gave him the special case, and he immediately went with it. No one else would want to really touch something like this, and anyway, Proudfoot is the best we have; who would ever suspect a werewolf doing a murder case about vampires?”

“What about Remus?” said Harry. “He might have.”

“Yes, but he isn’t an Auror,” said Scrimgeour.

“So, you were only acting innocent the whole time?” said Nicholas, looking amused. Harry was surprised that Nicholas wasn’t mad about it all. Then again, Nicholas was a pretty laid back person.

“Pretty much,” Proudfoot grinned. “Well, except…” he blushed brightly.

“Except?” said Nicholas, eyebrow rising.

“Oh,” said Harry, catching on. “That… thing between you, Vega, and Betelgeuse.”

Proudfoot nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t expect that.”

“I told you it would be dangerous,” said Scrimgeour, smirking.

“So, wait,” said Harry. “What about all that wanting to find me and stuff?”

“That was also true,” said Proudfoot. “I ran into Worple in the forest on accident. I was scoping out an area that was highly concentrated with soulless ones, and I thought maybe the Dark vampire—whom I didn’t know was Algol at the time—would be around.”

“But he only preys on Daywalkers, ones with souls.”

“Right. But I guessed in my detective work that the Dark One—Algol—got that way because he was taking the soulless ones’ blood.”

Again, eyes popped out and jaws dropped.

“What, why?” said Harry.

“I don’t know for sure, but I have a hunch that Algol takes a bit of soulless ones’ blood once in a while, like a drug.”

“But it’s poisonous,” said Draco. “Isn’t it?”

“Not to him, I guess,” said Proudfoot. “He may have gotten immune to it.”

“Ok, let me get this straight,” said Harry. “Algol, who is a dark vampire, somehow got addicted to soulless vampires’ blood, became twisted and evil, and started to feed off Daywalkers because he feels more powerful taking that kind of blood instead of normal humans’?”

“He doesn’t just feel more powerful doing it, he IS more powerful.”

“What about his age?” said Draco. “Surely that counts as something?”

“As far as I figure, he might be bluffing.”

“But he’s got powers that only the really old vampires have!”

“Yes, but I doubt he’s older than Prince Vlad,” said Proudfoot. “He might be close in age, though, and revels in such powers so he likes to show them off.”

“What if I drank a bit of a soulless one’s blood?” Draco asked. “Would it make me more powerful?”

“Perhaps in time, once your body gets immune to it,” said Proudfoot. “But it would make you mentally unstable, like Algol.”

Draco made a face. “Er, never mind, then.”

“Does this mean that Algol is, in a way, a soulless one himself?” Harry asked.

Proudfoot looked slightly shocked by Harry’s comment, but then nodded slowly. “Yes, you may be right, Harry. Cripes, you really are as intelligent as they say.”

Harry blushed and scuffled a toe on the floor, embarrassed. “Er, well…”

“So he doesn’t have a complete soul?” said Neal, and Harry was grateful to him for bringing everyone back on track and getting them to stop staring at him.

“Correct,” said Proudfoot. “At least, that’s the way it’s looking.”

Draco sighed heavily, sitting on the bed next to Harry. “What an awful start to the night of my initiation.”

Harry turned his head to look at his soulmate, and placed a hand onto his thigh. “I’m sorry…”

“Not your fault,” Draco grumbled.

“That’s right,” said Neal. “Tonight’s your official initiation into the Order of the Dragon.”

Draco smiled, making Harry smile. Draco’s fangs always seemed to be a bit of a turn on to him, and just thinking about it made him blush.

.-.

The pain was ebbing away slowly, but it was still felt in the circle of elders and Youths alike. Draco’s initiation went about the same way as Harry’s did, and Harry couldn’t help staring into Draco’s eyes when they glowed an eerie silver after drinking Prince Vlad’s blood.

Harry found himself playing with his Order of the Dragon ring, watching it sparkle in the moonlight. Dawn will be approaching in a couple hours, but it didn’t bother him. Harry wondered if the sun hurt Algol, so he would have to hide during the day. If Algol didn’t have a whole soul, it was possible that the sun hurt him, and maybe Algol didn’t like any holy objects either.

This wasn’t the only kind of thoughts running through Harry’s mind. There were plenty of other thoughts in his head, including what he was going to do about the Horcruxes. He was only missing one, even though he knew what it was thanks to Luna, so he could start destroying them. Gryffindor’s sword was embedded with basilisk venom, so perhaps that was why Dumbledore had given it to him in his will. But what if, say, he didn’t have the sword on him when he found Ravenclaw’s diadem? What would he use then? And what if, while doing his hunt, he got peckish for some blood?

A chill ran through Harry’s spine. Algol knew about his hunt for Horcruxes, but how? Did that Dark Daywalker have enough power to read minds? Maybe that was how he found out, by reading Harry’s mind. He was never that good in Occlumency, and Algol was powerful enough, he could have penetrated his mind without knowing it.

“Sickle for your thoughts?” said Draco, startling Harry.

“Oh, er… it’s nothing,” said Harry. He didn’t look up; mind still partially on his thoughts.

“Looks like something to me,” said Draco. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me about it? I AM your soulmate.”

Harry sighed. “Look, it’s just the usual, that’s all.”

“But you don’t have to go through it all alone,” Draco pointed out.

“Yeah, I know that, but…”

“And your friends aren’t back yet, so why don’t you talk to me?”

At first, Harry didn’t think it was a good idea to say anything, but then he sighed audibly and thought ‘what the hell, what’s it going to hurt?’

“It’s just about what Algol said, when he mentioned me going on the hunt.”

“Oh, yeah… how the hell does he know about it anyway?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Draco gently laid an arm over Harry’s shoulders. “Well, it’s nothing you can control right now, so don’t worry about it.”

“That’s just it, isn’t it?” Harry huffed, standing. “This is something well beyond my control; how am I supposed to handle this? Am I supposed to just let it be? What if he is somehow spying on us? Where can we even talk safely to one another about anything?”

“He could have just guessed from something and is just trying to make you paranoid.”

“Well, he’s succeeding, isn’t he?” Harry snarled and punched at a wall. The picture on it began to swing wildly from the force of it, and a small crack appeared where his knuckles had connected.

“Harry, settle down,” said Draco, feeling nervous just watching Harry lose control. “Don’t let Algol succeed in unnerving you. Let’s just concentrate on what you can do right now.”

Harry panted for a while, trying to cool down. Draco was right, there was something he could do.

“Right. You’re right, Draco.” Harry turned and stared at Draco determinedly. “Let’s do it.”

.-.

“You sure you want me to do it?” said Ron, staring dumbfounded at Gryffindor’s sword still in Harry’s outstretched hand and then to Hufflepuff’s Cup. Ron and Hermione had come back from St. Mungo’s an hour ago, and Harry couldn’t be happier seeing them again. Draco was being a grump, but that was normal; especially when his friends were around.

“Yes, Ron, I’m serious,” said Harry. “I want you to do it.”

He held the handle of the sword out for Ron to take, but Ron kept staring at it as if he’d never seen a sword before in his life.

“What if I’m not supposed to?” said Ron. “What if it has to be you?”

“Dumbledore destroyed the ring, remember? And Regulus destroyed the locket, so, yeah, it doesn’t have to be me.”

Hermione was biting her lower lip and wringing her hands nervously in front of her. “Ron, I know why you’re reluctant, but I think you should do it… I mean, what if Harry can’t do it now, because he’s a vampire?”

“What does being a vampire have to do with it?” said Draco, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m certain Potter can do it with his eyes closed! You’re just too scared to try, Weasley.”

“I’m not scared!” Ron snapped, and then snatched the sword out of Harry’s hand. “I’ll show you how scared I can be.”

Harry gave Draco a grateful smile, and Draco smirked back.

“Wait, let’s do it somewhere else…” said Hermione.

“Why?” said Ron. “What’s wrong with doing it here, in our bedroom?”

“Nothing, but…” she still looked nervous. “What if something happened?”

“I doubt it matters where you do it,” said Harry. “But…” he sighed after Hermione gave him those big, brown, cow eyes. “If you think it’s best…”

Hermione nodded, knowing full well that she’d won. Together, the four of them walked out of the bedroom Ron and Hermione were sharing and went to the sitting room.

They had immediately Flooed back over to Grimmauld Place after Harry had decided to get the Cup destroyed so that they were one more Horcrux down. After that, all they had to do was concentrate on where the last one was.

“Ok, here goes,” said Ron, raising the sword up to strike down on the Cup, but then the fireplace flared to life and out stepped Snape.

“Halt!” he shouted.

“Halt?” said Harry.

Ron looked over his arm, sword still poised to strike, and gave his old professor a confused look.

“Don’t try using that sword just yet.”

“Why not?” said Hermione.

Snape turned his usual glare at her, but Hermione held her ground.

“Because, Miss Granger, the sword needs to be obtained through bravery.”

“You mean it wasn’t brave what we went through?” said Ron.

“I mean, you need to take the sword after performing feats worthy of the title Gryffindor.”

“Why?” said Harry. “And how do you know this?”

“Dumbledore told me, you annoying leech,” Snape snapped.

“So, how the hell are we supposed to do that? What does Ron have to do, anyway?” Harry asked.

Snape held out his hand. “Give me the sword, and I will set a task for you, or Mr. Weasley, to do in order to retrieve it.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “This doesn’t sound right, sir.”

“I assure you, I am only doing what is asked of me,” said Snape calmly. When Ron didn’t hand over the sword right away, Snape said, “Any day now, Weasley.”

Ron looked over at Harry to get a silent confirmation, and Harry gave it by shrugging one shoulder and then nodding. Ron sighed, knowing there was no way he could argue about it, and handed the sword over to Snape.

“Much obliged,” he said, sticking the sword into his belt. Harry couldn’t help wondering if it was such a good thing to let Snape handle the sword like that, like he was some kind of hero, but then again, if Dumbledore told Snape to do it…

“Do you know what kind of task you have to set for Weasley?” Draco asked. He had a feeling Harry would still let Ron do it, even though he thought it only best if Harry did it.

Snape stared at them for a while, and then slowly he lifted the corner of his mouth up, slightly.

“Yes,” he said.

.-.

Harry wasn’t sure just what Snape had in mind for Ron, but for the past two hours, Ron’s been pacing the floor in worry. Harry had a sinking feeling that whatever he set up for Ron, it wouldn’t be easy. Then again, Ron would need to use all his Gryffindor traits in order to get the sword back, and if Ron couldn’t succeed in it, Harry figured he could always try.

“Will you sit down, Ron?” said Hermione. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“Yeah, Weasley,” said Draco, thumbing through a magazine. “Sit your arse down.”

Ron glared at Draco, but Draco acted as if he didn’t notice as he went back to reading.

Finally, Ron did sit, and Hermione patted his knee, trying to comfort him.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” she said. “Knowing you like I do, you’ll get the sword back, no problem.”

Ron smiled half-heartedly. “Thanks, Hermione.”

“When was Snape going to owl us again?” Harry asked Draco.

Without taking his eyes off his magazine, Draco said, “Later tonight, just in case you’re needed.”

“Not coming with, Malfoy?” smirked Ron.

“I really have no need, especially since I’m Slytherin and it won’t help at all. Besides, I’m sure you and Harry will have no problem getting the sword back.”

“You think it would take the both of us to get it?” said Ron, raising an eyebrow.

“Possibly,” said Draco, lazily flipping a page.

“We shall see, won’t we?” said Ron.

.-.

“Where are they?” Ginny demanded, hands on her hips. “I thought they would be back from training by now!”

“They’ve been back from that already,” said Draco. “They had to leave again.”

“To where?” Ginny said, still in a demanding tone. “I need to speak to Harry.”

“Calm down,” Luna said softly into her ear. “I’m sure Harry will be back.”

“Is it urgent?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He was still reading his magazine.

“Er… well…”

Draco sniffed, his nose rising in the air unintentionally. “If it’s not that important, then you’re in no position to be making such demands, are you?”

“I swear, Malfoy, if there’s something going on that I should know about…”

“Oh, look who thinks she’s all important now!” Draco laughed. “Honestly, Weasley, they’re fine. Just sit your arse down and be patient.”

Ginny huffed, crossing her arms, and stayed standing. For a while, it looked as if she was about to just stay there, but then after a few minutes she finally gave in and sat down in the armchair. Luna nodded, as if pleased by Ginny’s actions, and sat on the floor by Ginny’s feet.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she said to Ginny. “Let’s just talk about something else to take our minds off things.”

“Like what?” Ginny asked.

“Well…” Luna started, but she didn’t get a chance to finish, because the fireplace flared to life, and out of it tumbled Nicholas, Proudfoot, Patrick, and Donald Moon.

“Is Harry here?” Nicholas asked right away when he landed on his feet.

“No,” said Draco, setting his magazine down. “What’s up?”

Nicholas and Proudfoot sat on either side of Draco on the couch. Draco raised an eyebrow, turning his head back and forth to look at them. Patrick and Moon stayed standing, and what Draco didn’t notice was that Patrick suddenly lifted his head and started to sniff the air.

“His friends are asking to see him,” explained Proudfoot. “You know, the ones in St. Mungo’s?”

“Oh, them,” said Draco. He nearly forgot that Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, Arthur and George Weasley were brought in for injuries. “Didn’t they get better?”

“Yes, but Moody and Kingsley had to stay a bit longer, because they got the worst of it.”

“And you knew of this how?” Draco asked, suspicious.

“We received an owl,” said Moon. He took out the letter from his pocket. “I don’t know why it didn’t go directly to Harry himself. I’m guessing that he is inaccessible. It’s from Kingsley, I believe.”

Draco took the letter from Moon and scanned it. Being Harry’s soulmate now, he was sure he had the right to read his mail. The letter basically talked about the attack, and then went on to say that the Death Eaters did, indeed, try to attack St. Mungo’s, but were stopped by Aurors, Healers, heavy enchantments, and other skilled wizards. The attack was over with in an hour, and things are more heavily guarded there now.

“So, what’s Harry supposed to do about this?” Draco said after he finished reading.

“Well, I’m guessing that knowing about what’s going on will urge him to get a move on with destroying Lord Voldemort.”

Not many in the room flinched when they heard Moon say the name aloud like that, and Draco was surprised to find that he wasn’t as affected by hearing the name like he used to be. He wondered if it had anything to do with being with Harry now. Still, where did Moon get off saying what he did? The anger deep within began to boil, mostly on Harry’s behalf.

“You have no idea what Harry has to go through to get Voldemort destroyed, do you?” Draco snarled. “If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?”

Moon held up his hands. “Whoa, settle down. I didn’t mean anything by it, honest. But if Harry knows what he has to do to get Voldemort destroyed, he needs to get a move on, because… there’s a rumor that he is turning his eye on Castle Dracula.”

“Does he know about Harry becoming a vampire?” Luna asked.

“I do not know,” said Moon, shaking his head in dismay. “I pray that he doesn’t, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Ginny was biting her lower lip and gazing into the fire with sad eyes. Patrick was staring at her, his nostrils flaring and breath quickening.

“What’s wrong?” Nicholas asked him. Patrick jolted.

“Er, nothing,” he said quickly, but then his gaze went back to Ginny.

Nicholas and Proudfoot exchanged a knowing glance. Something was definitely up.

.-.

It was getting colder; snow was inevitable, but that didn’t mean that they should give up. Harry had to stay back and watch as his best friend dove into a freezing pool of water. He wanted to dive in after him, but he knew that if he tried anything, Ron’s brave trial would end in failure. Ron had to triumph, he just had to.

After a few minutes of no sign of Ron resurfacing, Harry started to get worried. He wondered how far down Snape put the sword, and then began to wonder if Ron had drowned after all. If he did, then Snape was going to die… very painfully, and Harry wouldn’t care how much Snape begged.

Just as Harry decided to check on Ron, Ron’s red head finally broke the cold surface, sputtering and gasping. Harry hurried to his side, ready to help him out, but Ron shook his head and got out by himself.

“G-got the c-cup?” Ron stuttered, teeth clattering. Harry nodded, pulled it out, and set it down on a nearby rock.

Sword in hand, Ron raised it immediately, and Harry had to admire Ron’s sudden steady arm and no-nonsense action as he brought Gryffindor’s sword down, shattering the cup into pieces. A wisp of something alive puffed out, and Harry heard a small scream echo throughout the woods as the Horcrux was destroyed.

“You did it,” said Harry. He placed a hand onto Ron’s shoulder. He could feel and hear Ron’s heart going a mile a minute from just the small proximity. It actually made his fangs hum and his urge grow. It had been a while since he’d last eaten.

“Yeah,” Ron panted, a silly smile on his face. “One more Horcrux down.”

“And one more to go… well, two, counting Nagini.”

“You’ll do it, mate,” said Ron, patting Harry’s shoulder. “I know you will.”

Harry’s blood urge grew from just the simple touch, but he knew that he shouldn’t take Ron’s blood any more, so he jerked away from Ron’s hand. Ron gave him a confused and somewhat hurt look, so Harry covered it up with acting as if he was in a hurry with getting back to Grimmauld Place.

“Sorry, just… let’s go before something else happens.”

“Yeah, all right.”

TBC

I apologize, but I don’t know when I’ll have the next part up. School and work has been keeping me very busy lately. I will try getting the next part written and up either next Friday or two weeks from now; I don’t know.