Twisted

Chapter Seven: Conversations

Draco perched precariously on the frame of a large painting, melting into the flickering shadows around him. He had been there for what seemed like hours, and few people had passed through room, vampires mostly. None of them seemed to notice him. His intangible heart fluttered every time the door swung open. He was not cut out for this kind of work, but he knew what would happen if he failed. He preferred death to the fangs of an angry vampire.

He started as loud voices echoed behind the thick door.

“Jean-Claude, you can not be serious!” a woman yelled as the mahogany slammed against the stone wall. “How can you even think of keeping him here?!”

“Ma petite, we have already been through this, I believe,” a dark-haired vampire said, following a short woman in front of him.

“How can you be so calm?” she demanded. “You saw the same thing I did! He’s too fucking dangerous!”

“And what would you have me do, Anita?” the vampire said, pronouncing the name slowly as if it was a threat. The tension in the room began to escalate. “He has harmed none of us since that one night. He destroyed the threat, in fact, he was well enough aware to keep one alive for questioning.”

“Where were you when he was about to tear Richard apart? Oh, right, you were trying to keep a leash on his magic, and you could barely do that, even with my help!” the woman pulled out a metal device. It seemed to be some sort of weapon, she brandished it that way. “Get out of the way, Jean-Claude.”

“Do not threaten me, Anita. I am still the Master of the City.”

“And I’m the Executioner, I’ll do what I have to do to protect what’s mine,” she said. Draco could not see her face, but her words were intense enough.

“So you will shoot the boy in his sleep, Executioner,” he said the name almost mockingly. “While he cannot defend himself? Without being able to hide behind the law?”

The woman hesitated, shoulders tense, then shook her head. “I don’t like it Jean-Claude, but he is evil. I know it. I felt it. He is too big of a threat.”

“You are correct, ma petite, but I will not allow you to shoot him.”

“And why not?”

“Because if you go in there, you will die. I have no doubts about that. This boy, whatever he may be, does not like to be threatened. I believe that is what ‘sets him off’.”

“And just how did you figure that out?” the Executioner said, angry.

“It is something I have been contemplating. The first night you drew your gun and he attacked. The wolves were forcing a dominant to submit. Those wizards tonight were looking for him and he tore them apart. However, he harmed none of us yesterday. He was even friendly with Jason. I believe that as long as you do not wave your gun around, he will be cooperative.”

“You can’t know that for sure. Can’t you see that he’s insane? I won’t let some crazy wand-waver make the rules for me.”

“Anita.” One word, the vampire Jean-Claude said. The room grew icy as his eyes blazed blue. “If you want us to survive, you will do as I say. You will not threaten Harry Potter.”

“Don’t give me orders, Jean-Claude.”

“You may be eager to throw your own life away, Anita, but don’t forget that you will take others with you. Richard and myself. Damien and Nathaniel. Will you be responsible for our deaths as well?”

The woman seemed to be torn, her body trembling with the weight of the situation. She let out a growl at last and her shoulders dropped. “Fuck you, Jean-Claude.”

She pushed passed the vampire, but holstered her weapon. It was a long while after she was gone before the vampire moved. His whole body seemed to slump from the perfect posture he had been holding. He let out a great sigh and put a hand to his temple.

Draco watched; if he had been in his body, he would have smiled. His Slytherin brain began to tick as schemes ran rampant through his mind.

……………………….

He was standing on a great marble chessboard. Harry recognized it from his first year. He was alone as he wandered through the looming pieces. Or so he thought.

Just as he was about to pass through the line of white pawns, he saw a shadow flicker from the corner of his eye. Harry spun, but it was gone. He knew better than to ask who was there.

“Come out!” he yelled, reaching for a wand that wasn’t there.

“Will you play?” a voice hissed in the darkness.

“What?”

“Will you play?” there was soft laughter. “Truthfully, there is no choice.”

“I have a choice!” Harry cried.

“If you do not play, I will win,” the voice sneered as a white pawn was destroyed by a black bishop. It screamed as its pieces were tossed aside. It sounded like Neville.

“So…will you play?”

Harry answered by letting his knight smash the bishop into dust. A battle ensued, and Harry let his anger rule him as his army fought. The screams seemed all too real. Sirius, Lupin, Ron, Hermione, Ginny…

He was alone, broken. The shadow was standing above him, black figures rising menacingly behind him. Only the pale hand that clutched the wand was visible—the Elder Wand.

It moved into the light enough for a smirk to be revealed. Harry almost recognized those lips…

“You will never be good enough to beat me,” it said, bearing bright white teeth before it lowered the wand to Harry’s chest, mouth forming the words—


Harry grunted, tearing sheets and blankets away from him. He fell to a thickly carpeted floor before jumping to his feet, panting. His head ached as if someone was ripping his brain in two. He stumbled around the room with watering eyes, tripping over furniture and his own two feet. One door was locked, he backed away to the other. The bathroom.

He barely made it in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the porcelain. Harry retched so violently that tears poured down his sweating cheeks. For a while he heaved dryly. He flushed the toilet and moved over to the sink to rinse his mouth out.

“You okay?”

Harry jumped, spraying water everywhere. He finally focused on the figure leaning against the doorframe. The boy backed away, blinking rapidly as his heart pounded. The face was familiar, but his mind was jumping around too fast to recognize whether it was friend or foe. Where was he?

The figure flashed an easy grin. “I brought you some breakfast, if you feel up to it. I’m always starving after the full moon, but I guess we all got a feast last night.”

Memories of the night before flashed through Harry’s mind. Death Eaters had attacked the gathering. He had killed two…the other—

“Where is he? The one who lived?”

The smile turned a little strained, “I figure Jean-Claude has him tucked away in a dungeon somewhere.”

Jason. The name popped into Harry’s head. He felt the tension run out of his spine. “You’re still not afraid, huh?”

“Hey, I told you, you freak me out, but I’m around freaky people all day, so I got used to it.”

Harry looked up, and studied the wolf, from the hair that seemed to be in “growing-out” phase to the warm blue eyes. They didn’t twinkle and he was glad. He’d had enough of twinkling eyes. The smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on the handsome face. A scowl formed between Harry’s brows.

“Why do you do that?” he asked. “Smile all the time? There’s nothing to smile about.”

Jason gave him a surprised expression. “Haven’t you heard? It takes more muscles to frown than to smile.”

“Your morning cheeriness offends me,” Harry grumbled.

The wolf laughed. “I get that a lot. Anyway, I brought some necessities for you. A toothbrush, some towels, and uh, we didn’t bother looking for your, well, my, clothes last night, so there’s more for you on the bed. That was my favorite shirt, by the way…”

Jason rambled as he headed back into the darkened room to turn on some of the lamps. Harry glanced down and realized that he was in borrowed pajama bottoms. They hung of his hips rather ridiculously. He glanced around the room, at the heavy wooden furniture and the elegant decorations. There was a suspicious lack of windows.

“We’re under The Circus again, right?” he asked, wavering at the threshold of the bathroom.

“Yep. This is my room,” Jason turned to wink at the smaller boy. “You’re welcome anytime.”

Harry felt his eyes widen and his cheeks flush. He would have been even more uncomfortable if he didn’t have the feeling that the wolf would flirt with anything on two legs…or four.

“Er, right. Thanks,” Harry mumbled before grabbing the clothes and toiletries off of the bed and shutting the bathroom door behind him. It was probably a bad sign that he felt the need to lock it behind him. Jason was just teasing him…but what was this odd feeling in his belly? Like nerves before a Quidditch match…only different. Harry felt his cheeks flame even hotter. He tried not to think about how different the feeling was.

He had other things to worry about—like his nightmare. It reminded him, forcefully, of the lost wand. He needed to find it, which would be rather difficult since he couldn’t remember where he was when he lost it. He would have to ask where he had been found. Not that that would help much, either. He could have run miles before collapsing.

His stomach was tied up in knots before he even finished dressing. The thought of the food waiting for him in the next room made his insides quiver in revolt, but he would force himself to eat. He had been neglecting his body for too long, the sagging clothes were evidence of that. Harry would need a strong body if he was going to be fighting Death Eaters on a regular basis, especially without a wand.

If the wolves hadn’t been there last night, he would have been in trouble.

“Fuck it!” he snarled, slamming his fists against the marble countertop. He had done his best to stay away from the wizarding world, but it had caught up with him again far too soon. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“Hey, Harry,” Jason knocked on the door. “Jean-Claude wants to speak with you before he sleeps for the day. We need to get going soon.”

Harry sighed. Would this be when he found out what the vampire wanted? He could guess all too easily as he looked at his reflection. There was nothing left of the boy who had attended Hogwarts and laughed with the Weasleys. The eyes that stared back at him belonged to nothing humane. They belonged to a weapon. The smile that spread across his face was humorless.

He was everybody’s secret weapon.

Was he running from the truth, hiding in America? What if he joined these people and did as they wished? What if he threw away the lingering image of Dumbledore’s Golden Boy and truly became a monster? Cold determination filled his chest. He would give the Ministry a real reason to fear him. He would make the Death Eaters beg for forgiveness.

He would start with Dolohov. The moron was really going to regret ever coming after the new Harry Potter.

………………………..

It was after ten in the morning before I stepped inside the comfort of my own home. I knew the boys would be upstairs, dead to the world after the full moon. I let my back rest against the door, the cold comfort of my Browning Hi-power pressing into my side. The new one didn’t have the same feel as the other, but it was similar enough to put a part of me at ease.

I closed my eyes and let the peace of morning sun soak into me. I wasn’t usually one for “morning”, especially when I saw it from the wrong end, but just at that moment I needed it. The general stillness of the house was broken by a soft beep. Damn, the answering machine.

For a moment, I considered ignoring it to cuddle between the boys, but conscience wouldn’t let me. What if something had happened back at The Circus? With a slight groan, I walked over to the blinking light and pressed the “play” button. There was only one message.

“Anita. I’m coming.” I blinked at the sound of the hang up. I recognized the voice all to easily. It was Edward and I had a pretty good idea what he wanted to talk about. Oh, shit.

I blinked. Maybe this was a good thing…