FAMILY TIES

Chapter Five


Brianna was not kidding when she said she would train him hard. He was roused from his bed at dawn where they ran the yards, woods, and beaches. Then put through calisthenics or swimming . . . before breakfast. After breakfast, he was with instructors learning the elven ways and history, and taught how to conceal his ears or change his appearance. After lunch with the other relatives, it was time for the weaponry lessons. He was taught how to use the sword, daggers, and a long and short bow with arrows. After dinner, Rider sat with him and taught him about his vampiric heritage.

The first week Harry collapsed on the bed exhausted, his body feeling beaten. They did allow him some time to himself before he retired where he was given books to read about what he will be learning the following month, like ancient magic, denomic science, elemental magic, and some elven spells. Before bed he went to the lagoon by the waterfall, letting his thoughts ease as he closed his eyes, listening to the night sounds around him. Occasionally, he had company, which was a bit uncomfortable at first due to when people relaxed in the lagoon, they were completely naked.


~*~


It was the day before his birthday, after the morning torture from Bree when Harry snuck off to a field of tall grass and flowers. He lay on his back, sighing as the cool earth soothed his aching back, placing his hands under his head and crossing his feet at the ankles. He shifted around to get comfortable, as his back has been bothering him for a couple of days now. He knew why, and dreaded when they would break through his skin. Rider had told him that the transformation would be painful, but would not last more than the day.

He sighed to himself as he let himself relax, until he heard the crunching of the grass when someone drew near. He slowly drew his wand, then relaxed his grip, as he saw who it was. “Blaise. What do you want?” He asked closing his eyes again.

Blaise took a deep breath and sat cross-legged beside Harry. “You can’t keep avoiding me, Harry,” he said, waiting for a response and not getting one. “Are you still mad at me?” He asked after waiting a few minutes.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at his elven cousin, then sat up to lean back on his hands. “I’m not really pissed at you Blaise . . . just this whole situation. My life has been so fucked up and complicated, and this just adds more confusion to my life. To live sixteen years thinking that you’re a freak, finding out you’re a wizard with a prophecy made about you to kill or be killed. I’ve been liked and hated by my own house for something I had no control over. Labeled ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ or ‘Saint Potter’ for doing nothing but living. Now I have a family . . . a rather large family that loves me for me, even though I’ll be part bloodsucker tomorrow,” he smiled sadly.

“Yeah, I suppose all that would make me frustrated and angry too,” Blaise consented.

“Bree, Ash, and the other instructors are helping me with that. I take my frustrations out in weaponry training and the other torture she puts me through. Your mother and Kale have been helping me with different meditating techniques to control some of the anger,” Harry said.

“You know why my identity had to be kept secret didn’t you?” Blaise asked.

“Yeah, I understand, but it still kind of ticks me off. You had to do it to get information from the death-eater-wannabes, and you were protecting my real heritage as well. You were never one of the Slytherin’s that bothered us Gryffindor’s though, didn’t they suspect anything?” Harry asked.

“No. I was the studious one in the house,” Blaise smirked. “Always had my nose in a book, and my ears open to the gossip and plans.”

“And such big ears too,” Harry grinned.

“Wouldn’t talk Scar-head,” Blaise laughed.

“Now Blaise, you’re going to hurt my feelings with those insults,” Harry mocked, “you almost sounded like Malfoy there.”

“You know Draco’s not that bad Harry. We’ve gotten to be good friends over the years. His father is a real bastard Harry. There’s been plenty of times where I had to heal him with potions and salves when he came back from a visit with his father,” Blaise sighed.

“I suppose that’s where you get a lot of information from about Voldemort,” Harry questioned.

“Yes. Draco had said recently that Voldemort knew of your mother’s heritage. His father didn’t go into specifics though.”

“Are you in any danger?” Harry asked.

“No. I don’t think so,” Blaise shrugged, “there’s been no indication from the other Slytherin’s that they’ve found me out.”

“Just be careful,” Harry said looking Blaise in the eye.

“I will,” Blaise grinned. “Bree’s been teaching me a lot also. So are you nervous about tonight?”

“Yes. I think I’m more so knowing what’s going to happen.”

“Is someone going to be with you?”

“Yes. Rider, Bree and grandfather will be there.” Harry replied quietly.

“Harry, when we’re back in school, and you need your weekly fix . . . I’ll be there for you,” Blaise said.

“You’d be a donor?”

“Yes.”

“It wouldn’t freak you out or anything?”

“Probably at first,” Blaise admitted.

“They say a bite from a vampire can feel quite erotic,” Harry grinned.

“For you or me?” Blaise smirked.

“More so for the ‘victim’,” Harry laughed.

“Nice way to put it, Harry,” Blaise grinned. “You going to tell Weasley and Granger?”

“Probably,” Harry shrugged his one shoulder. “They’re my best friends. They’ll be there for me.” ‘Hopefully,’ he inwardly thought to himself.



Bree eventually found the two of them and dragged them to the weaponry training. Ash dueled with him extra hard, letting him work off some of the hyper nervousness.

That night Harry shakily walked to his bed after showering, and sat down. He just wore his pajama bottoms, leaving his torso bare. He was given a mild sleeping potion and told to lie on his stomach. “So talk to me,” Harry said tiredly, sighing as Rider rubbed some oil onto his back.

“What would you like to talk about Harry?” Kyrian grinned.

“I don’t know. About your brother . . . or astrology, that would put me to sleep,” he suggested giving a light laugh. “How about your brother. What was he like before his mind bent?”

“Tyrial was a few years younger than myself. We were quite close as siblings, always causing mischief,” Kyrian smiled in memory. “There was this one time . . . ”

Harry was listening to his grandfather, his voice soothing him to sleep, as he imagined them in happier times. He drifted off with a small smile on his face as the potion took effect.

Rider felt the deeper breathing as he continued to rub the oil onto Harry’s back. “He’s asleep. I’ve gone through what’s going to happen with you two, so don’t be alarmed,” he quietly said.

They sat in silence, watching Harry for the first stages of his maturity. About an hour before midnight, Bree grasped her grandfather’s hand as they watched Harry’s body start to glisten with sweat, his hair sticking to his heated back and face. Painful moans filled the room as Harry started to writhe on the bed, kicking the sheets to the floor. Before their eyes, his body slightly grew on the bed, not a noticeable difference, but one that they were watching for. The darkened skin from the weeks outside lightened to a creamy tan color. The sheets and pillows were being shredded by the razor-sharp fingernails that grew from Harry’s fingers.

“Now for the hard part,” Rider softly said as Harry’s body stilled. He shifted around and lifted Harry’s upper body up against him and held him. The hard part of this was that Harry’s body would shut down, the heart would stop and his blood would change as it flowed through his veins. He felt the slowing of Harry’s heart against his naked chest until there was nothing.

Afer an agonizingly slow half hour, Rider felt the faint beat of Harry’s heart as the new blood pulsed into it. The night was then awakened by the scream and howl of pain as Harry arched his back forward, throwing his head back. Tears of pain coursed down his face as the sound of ripping flesh was heard from his back.

Harry looked at Rider with clouded green eyes. “Hurts,” he hoarsely said.

Rider retracted one of his own claws to slice the side of his neck, then guided Harry’s head down. He closed his eyes as the newly sharpened fangs pierced his skin, then leaned back as Harry drank from him.

“Gods . . . they’re beautiful,” Bree whispered, looking at the black-feathered wings that twitched on Harry’s back as he drank. The wings were pointed at the top, the ends hanging over the bed. Probably down to the back of Harry’s knees when standing. Looking more closely there was a blue sheen to the blackness of the new feathers.

When Rider felt Harry withdraw his fangs, he licked his own fingers, then traced the puncture and cut wound with his own saliva, healing them. “You two might as well go. He’ll sleep for quite awhile now.”

“Are you staying?” Kyrian asked, seeing Rider shift to lie on his back, bringing Harry up to lay at his side, almost on top of him.

“Yes. He’ll need me here when he wakes up. He’ll be disorientated and pained. He shouldn’t be alone when he comes out of it,” Rider replied, placing his arm around Harry’s shoulders to draw him closer. After the two of them left, he placed a soft kiss to the top of Harry’s fevered head, falling asleep to the feel of the warm breath that ghosted onto his neck.


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