Scarlet Lion

Chapter One: Burrows and Buses

Harry Potter lay wide awake in his bed, staring blindly up at his ceiling. It was about 5 a.m. and he had gotten very little, if any, sleep. In fact, this had been happening every night since the previous school year when he dreamt of Voldemort and the snake. Then there was his life being made into hell by Dolores Umbridge, official Hogwarts Inquisitor and temporary Headmistress...then the death of Sirius. Tears crept unchecked to his eyes again at the thought of his godfather in the cold room in the Department of Mysteries, and that horrible black curtain....

He wiped at his eyes furiously with the back of his sleeve, outraged with himself for showing weakness. He had come to realize that people around him will die, whether he likes it or not, because he's him. Trouble seeks him as if he had a gigantic trouble-magnet duct-taped to his back.

Standing up, he made his way slowly to the window where he sat down on the seat, a few dark clouds scuttling across the night sky. Hedwig was dozing in her cage, making soft whistling noises when she exhaled.

He regularly got mail from his friends, along with updates from Dumbledore about Voldemort's movements. But in order to get this inside info without it possibly being intercepted, Harry had been given a small, snapshot sized painting of Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's great-great-great-grandfather. Then again, Harry had taken to covering the frame with a cloth handkerchief, seeing as the previous Headmaster had an annoying habit of popping into his frame at most inopportune moments. Like in the mornings when Harry was getting dressed. To be laughed at by a snide gob of paint at 7 am wearing nothing but boxers was not Harry's idea of a good start to the day.

There was suddenly a loud tapping at the window followed by high pitched screeches. Looking out, Harry noticed Pigwidgeon, Ron's diminutive owl, sitting on the window ledge and doing a strange little hopping dance, and nearly fell off the sill when Harry flung the pane open.

Quickly closing his hand around the small beast, he drew it into the room, untied the letter from Pig's leg, and threw him into an empty pillowcase in order to muffle the fuzzball's crazy antics before Uncle Dersley woke up. Harry had been given free roam of the house (except on special occasions when he was forced into the cupboard) and was pretty much ignored. The Dursleys had definitely taken to heart the threat that Moody gave them while on the platform at the end of last year, but none the less, whenever he tried to talk to one of his relatives they would usually say things like: "Did you just hear something?... Must have been the cat." The Dursleys didn't have a cat, Dudley was allergic to them.

The only exception to this was when he accidentally woke them up in the middle of the night one time when Dobby decided to drop, or should I say, CRACK into the room one night. He was throttled by his rhino of an uncle and locked in his room for three days without food. He generally tried to avoid situations like that.

Breaking the seal on Ron's letter, he opened it and recognized his friend's untidy scrawl at once:

Hey Harry!

Hope this finds you well. Pig's had a head cold this past week so I had to wait to send this seeing as Mum's retired Errol due to his arthritis. Anyway, I asked Mum, she asked Dumbledore, and he said that you can come and stay the rest of the summer! He said he's arranged for someone to pick you up and escort you on the Knight Bus. I have to warn you he's a bit... odd. But Dumbledore says he's perfectly safe. He should actually be there sometime tonight.

See you soon, Ron

P.S. I have a present for you, but Pig's to small to carry it. Since your birthday's in three days anyway, I guessed that you wouldn't mind.

Harry smiled widely. He was going to Ron's. Thank God, some human interaction would do him some good. He started tiptoeing around his room, collecting his various books and papers, stuffing them into his trunk along with his old school robes, dress robes, cauldron, broom (which had a shrink charm on it), and random leftover potions materials. Securing the lid, he turned to make a quick trip to the w.c, but soon found that he wasn't alone. His heart nearly jumped into his throat when a shadow moved across the window.

"H-hello?" he called quietly, still trying not to wake his formidable uncle.

"Bloody hell, you're scrawny."

Harry whipped around, eyes locking on someone who was sitting in the open window frame.

"Who are you?"

"Not to bright, either," the blond man in black leather said, talking to one in particular, then turned his attention back to Harry. "Well, are you going to invite me in so we can get going?"

"Wait, you're taking me to Ron's?" Harry asked with surprise.

"Well what does it bloody well look like? I could just leave you here the rest of the summer, you know."

Harry looked at him suspiciously and said, "Why do I have to invite you in?"

"Look kid, it's a protection spell that Dumbledore put on your house this summer. Nobody can enter unless asked to. Not my bloody idea."

Harry was still unsure, but decided that he was probably all right, seeing as he knew of Ron and his plans to go to the Burrow. "Fine then, come in."

The man jumped in and said, "Right, now let's get going, now let's go, you're wasting my time." He walked over to the edge of the bed and easily hefted Harry's large trunk onto his shoulder with one hand. Harry gaped.

"What?" the man asked, unaware of anything abnormal.

"Who exactly are you?"

"Oh, right, knew I forgot something. Name's Spike." He stuck out his hand, dropping the trunk to the floor with a deafening crash.

"HARRY POTTER!" a voice bellowed from down the hall.

"Oh no, you've woken Uncle Dursley," Harry groaned.

"Is that a bad thing?" Spiked smirked. Harry just scowled. Large, thunderous footsteps echoed as Dursley stomped down the hall, hollering the whole way.

"You're in for it this time, Mister! Never in all my years have I ever seen such a horribly despicable child! It's five a.m. in the bloody morning!" he had reached the door and was turning the handle. "Just you wait 'till I..." he trailed off, having come face to face with the blond man. His eyes flicked to Harry, down to the trunk on it's side, then back to Spike.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I don't believe I owe you the honor of my name, sir. But if you don't mind I'll just be getting my package and be on my way." He turned and picked up Harry's trunk. Dursley turned purple.

"Jus a minute there. Who gave you the right to come into my house in the middle of the night, then not tell me who you are? I demand an explanation!"

Spike just looked amused, reflecting Harry's own thoughts. Seeing his pompous uncle being stood up to by a man less than half his size was extremely entertaining.

"For your information, windbag, I got specific permission from Headmaster Dumbledore to be here. Got a nice little charm on me to break through the crap load of spells on this place. 'Course, only he could do it," he turned and smiled at Harry. "Don't want any Big Bads breaking in, now do we?" Then turning back to Dursley he says, "Look gramps, I'm already behind schedule. I need to go now and I'd bloody well like to see you try and stop me."

Vernon puffed up his chest, effectively making himself look like a stuffed goose, and stepped up close to Spike, sticking his overly-large pig nose in the blond's face. "You will not talk to me in that manner in my own house! I suggest you..."

"No, I suggest you stick it up your fat arse. Harry, we're leaving." He turned toward the window.

Vernon gave a yell like an enraged bull and ran at Spike. Quicker than the eye could blink, Spike was suddenly behind the big oaf. Holding the trunk on one shoulder he hurled Dursley by the scruff of his pajamas out into the hall and against the wall, then grabbed his head in pain.

"Gah! Bloody damn chip!" he cursed.

Petunia came in at that moment and decided to scream bloody murder, Dudley right behind her, trying to hide as best he could but sticking out on either side of his scrawny mum due to his immense size.

"Well, that was fun, but I really think we need to be going Harry." With that he grabbed the boy, the chest, and Hedwig's cage, and jumped out the window. Out the second story window.

For a brief second Harry thought they would most assuredly die, becoming nothing more than one large, messy pancake on the Dursleys' lawn, what with his heart threatening to explode out of his throat. But Spike just landed on both feet with feline grace, set Harry down and kept walking as if he hadn't just fallen twenty feet.

Harry could still hear Dursley's wounded-rhino bellows coming from his room and decided that by this point he'd be safer with the absurdly strong man who was quickly disappearing into the shadows near the front gate.

He hesitated only slightly before following the stranger. After all, the blond might be a minion of darkness bent on the destruction of the world, him in his black leather duster and clunky boots, but decided to question it later seeing as he'd almost completely lost sight of the other person.

Taking off at a gallop, he quickly caught up to the other who was walking briskly out into the road and down the sidewalk.

"Where are we going?" Harry questioned.

"A few blocks away. Nothing can apparate within a certain radius from your house, not even the Knight Bus."

"Wow, Dumbledore has sure put up a lot of spells around here. I didn't think I was worth it." Spike just glanced at him, face unreadable.

They had been walking for about fifteen minutes when Spike suddenly stopped on a street corner and said, "Well, this ought to do it." Placing the chest down and handing Hedwig over to Harry, he started digging through the many pockets hidden in his duster.

"Where the hell is it? It has to be in here somewhere. Hasn't been that long... aha!" He finally pulled out a long wand from the inside liner of his jacket and held it experimentally. He then stuck out his wand into the street and waited.

Another minute had passed before he pulled it back in and examined it. "Bloody thing must be broken. Probably should have gotten it che..." Crack!

Harry and Spike jumped back in surprise as the purple triple-decker Knight Bus popped into existence. The conductor leaned out the open door and said, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening." Harry recognized this speech from back when he was in his third year and had accidentally stuck out his wand out when tripping over his trunk. Stan even looked mostly the same, only most of his blemishes had cleared up. "Sorry fer the delay, we were 'eld up in Painswick with ol' Barbara. She's getting a bit slow. 'Ad to drag 'er trunks all the way up the stairs."

It was only then he looked down to see who it was he was talking to. "'Arry! Good to see yeh! No' on the run again, are yeh?" Harry shook his head. "Righ' then, where yeh off ta?"

"Little Whinging," Spike replied. Stan jumped.

"Didn' see yeh there," he shuffled nervously. "So, Li'le Whining then? Righ', that's twelve Sickles, but for fourteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for sixteen you get an 'ot..."

"Yes, yes, we know the drill, just shut up and let us on. It's getting near sunrise," Spike said moodily, shoving twenty-eight Sickles into Stan's hand.

Harry followed the blond as he swept to the back of the bus and sat down in one of the seats. Stan soon came by with the hot chocolate. "Yer lucky 'Arry, just dropped off our last customer. Should be a direct route to Li'le Whining. Less 'an ten minutes, I'd say."

There was a loud BANG as the bus took off and they were soon tottering down a darkened street with lamp posts and mailboxes springing out of the way. Stan, the driver, still wasn't very good at driving.

Harry leaned his head against the window and reflected on what was happening the first time he had been on the Knight Bus. He had just run away from the Dursley's, after having inflated his Aunt Marge when she was insulting him to no end. That was just after Sirius had just broken out of Azkaban... A tear slid unbidden down his cheek. Taking off his glasses he rubbed his cheek with his sleeve, then closed his eyes and just listened to the occasional BANG of the bus and felt the cool glass against his cheek.

"If you don't wake up right now, you wanker, I'm leaving you here." Harry woke up slowly, not even having realized when he fell asleep. The first thing he noticed was the irate face of Spike hovering over him and the lack of movement in the bus. They had arrived in Little Whinging.

"Now let's go, I'm getting hungry." He pulled Harry's trunk from under the seat and heaved it onto his shoulder. Not even pausing for Harry to get up, he strode quickly down the aisle and out the door. Harry stood up, replaced his glasses on his nose, grabbed Hedwig's cage, and hurried after him.

Before the bus left, Stan leaned out the door again. " See yeh, 'Arry. Ever need us, jus' stick out yer wand 'and!" And with a final loud BANG the bus was gone, leaving Harry and Spike alone on a street corner. Spike didn't say anything, just turned and headed in the direction of the Burrow, with Harry struggling to keep up.

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Spike was getting nervous. The sun was about to come up, and they were just now getting in sight of the tall, rickety-appearing structure called the Burrow. He was really hoping to get inside and seal all his windows before the first rays even thought of burning him.

"Can you possibly walk any slower? I'm in a hurry." He could easily see that the boy was tiring. No surprise there. Besides the brisk pace he was setting, he could see the boy had slept very little (if at all) recently. But he was a bit more concerned about becoming a pile of burnt ashes than the insomnia state of the boy lagging behind him.

They reached the door just as the sun first turned the sky a bright pink, its warmth spelling death for the anxious blood sucker. He practically busted down the door when they stepped onto the stoop, but was careful to not look too rushed, lest Harry found it suspicious. He walked in, dropped the trunk on the floor and immediately started to retreat up the stairs towards the room in which he was staying for the rest of the summer, at Dumbledore's request. Having nowhere else to go, he agreed.

But, he was stopped by an irate woman with blazing orange hair.

"What took you so long!?" Mrs. Weasly shouted.

"Well I..." Of all the people in the household, only Molly knew he was a vampire. She was the only person he and Dumbledore had felt should know, seeing as the others had a tendency to over react to the idea of a dark creature living with them.

"NO EXCUSES! Do you see what time it is?! Dawn! How long does it take to pick up ONE BOY!?" she jabbed him in the chest. Then her face softened and leaned in close to him. "I was worried about you and Harry. You shouldn't do that to a mother figure."

She was worried about him. He couldn't believe it. Nobody was supposed to care about him. He was a dangerous fiend bent on the destruction of all humans. But here she was, dusting off his jacket with a kind hand.

She then turned to Harry while Spike backed off into a dark corner where no light would reach him. "There you are, Harry dear! C'mon now, let's get you some breakfast. I bet you're starving. How's about some nice ham n' eggs?"

"Oh, um, yes please, Mrs. Weasley."

"Have a seat, have a seat, I'll get cooking," she turned to Spike. "Would you like something to drink, William?"

His stomach growled, "If you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course, dear." She bustled to the fridge where she pulled out an unmarked cardboard milk carton and handed it to him. "Help yourself, then. Don't think anybody else will be wanting to drink out of that now, do you?" she smiled at him and he returned it, opening the top and pouring some of the contents into a coffee mug, careful to turn his back to Harry in the process as to not let the boy see the contents. He then replaced the carton, and took out his wand which he used to do a small heating charm on his blood to bring it up to body temperature.

"Forgot how useful these things are," he muttered to himself. Mrs. Weasley shot him a knowing glance while Harry just looked confused.

"Why don't you take your things up to Ron's room, Harry? He's up there waiting for you. He likely didn't sleep at all last night for being so excited." Mrs. Weasley said, putting a quick feather charm on Harry's chest so that he could carry it. He thanked her, then disappeared up the stairs.

Spike took a deep gulp of his blood and nearly spit it out when he realized it tasted like human blood.

"Like it, do you? I put a slight taste charm on it," Mrs. Weasley whispered to him. "It's really pig's blood."

He smiled widely at the woman. She thought of everything, and was so kind. Almost like the mother he used to have.

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Harry had been at the Weasley's for two days thus far, and had been enjoying it immensely. Hermione had arrived later in the day that he had arrived, and set about scolding both him and Ron for not doing their summer reading for transfiguration and potions. They just blew her off and went out to play Quiditch.

On this particular morning he was just waking up from the most blissful sleep he had had in a long time, enjoying the warmth on his face coming in through Ron's window when he was suddenly pounced upon by the very energetic pair of Ron and Hermione. Pig gave a loud hoot from his cage in the corner as Harry hollered in surprise due to Ron sitting on his knees, Hermione holding down his arms, and both tickling him mercilessly. He gave a most undignified squeal when they found the most sensitive flesh right under his arms, not relenting even as he struggled gallantly.

"Stop! Stop! I'll hex you both to next week if I have to! Stop!" he yelled.

Finally, exhausted, all three collapsed together happily, breathing heavily and smiling to no end.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Hermione said, sitting up. She reached over to the bedside table where several gifts had been deposited while Harry slept. She handed him one as he beamed at her.

"You guys didn't have to," he said.

"You're too modest, Harry. Just open them," Hermione said. He did just that. He happily tore into the shiny blue paper that Hermione had wrapped her gift in, smiling as the cover to a large book came into view. It was a brand new copy of all the works of Shakespeare. He had mentioned in a letter to her over the summer that he showed an interest in the playwright after seeing a program on him one time when the Dursleys weren't at home.

He smiled widely at her and told her he would start reading that night, but she said that he should really start on his reading from school instead. He just laughed and moved on to the next gift, which was from Ron. He opened it to find a rather expensive looking wizard's chess board, at which Harry just stared in awe for several minutes.

"Ron, how could you afford this?"

"The twins chipped in. Said they owed you for giving them the prize money in fourth year. Weasley's Wizard Wheezies are shooting way up in popularity now that everyone knows how they left school last year. They're celebrities now, thanks to you."

"I still think they should have finished school," Hermione said.

"And deal with Umbridge? Yeah right!" Ron replied.

Harry looked up as a large tawny owl came in through the window. It was obviously a school bird, carrying a large box and a letter. Harry could see from where he was sitting that it was from Hagrid. He got off the bed, untied the things from the owl's leg, and opened the letter and read it to Ron and Hermione. He gave the bird an owl treat and drink of water before sending it on its way.

Hiya Harry! And you too Ron and Hermione, if you're there. Just wanted to say Happy Birthday and can't wait to see you again in a few weeks. How do you like that new bloke, Spike or something? He seems pretty nice, if a little odd. We had a few drinks right before Dumbledore took him to Ron's place. Anyway, hope you like the gift Harry, I baked it myself with a little help from Professor Sprout. Seems she cooks as a hobby and is really good at it. I'll tell you more about the 'little' friend staying in my back yard when you get here. Don't want any trouble if someone intercepts this.

Happy Birthday, Hagrid

Harry smiled as he refolded the parchment. Seems Hagrid had sent him another cooked something. He just hoped that it was better than the rock hard peanut butter cookies that Hagrid had sent him over the summer (he now used them as doorstops).

He opened it to find an extremely elaborate triple layer chocolate cake with little lion-shaped sprinkles that gave off tiny roars and ran around the edge of the frosting (obviously Professor Sprout's handiwork).

"Wow! Hagrid sure has improved!" Ron stated happily as he took a small piece of frosting from the edge with his finger. "It's marvelous."

"We should take it down to Mrs. Weasly for your dinner tonight." Hermione said.

"I get a dinner too?!" Harry shouted, unbelieving.

"Not so loud, Harry! You'll wake the ghoul in the attic!" Ron whispered urgently. But at that there was a sudden loud bang, rattling chains, and woeful moans from directly above them. "Now you've done it. Let's get out of here before he decides it's fun to burst another pipe."

They left hurriedly, cake and presents in tow, down the steep stairs to the kitchen.

"Oh, good morning, dears!" Mrs. Weasley said as she bustled about the kitchen, cooking eggs, pancakes, sausages, and almost every type of hot breakfast food you could think of. "I hope you slept well. And I see you got a cake from Hagrid! Good! It'll save me some time now that I don't have to bake a cake. Just put it down there on the counter and we'll save it for later." Hermione obliged, quickly moving out of the way before a flying egg could get her in the head. "Oh, sorry, dear. Too many things to do, you know. Bill and Charlie are arriving this morning to help cart you all over to Diagon Alley and I want to have breakfast ready for them. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She hurriedly chased after a sausage link that was ricocheting around the room.

The three of them made a hasty retreat. In the sitting room they found Spike sitting quietly with a mug of coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up as they entered.

"Morning," he said, taking a gulp from his mug. He sat out of the way in the corner of the room in one of the extra easychairs. He had dragged it over there the first day Harry had arrived and had taken to sitting in it most of the time, except around the middle of the day when he disappeared into his room to do God-knows-what. "Heard it's your birthday, Specks. Congrats."

Harry frowned slightly. He wasn't sure of how he felt about the new nickname, but didn't say anything. Instead he and Ron sat down at the coffee table and started a game of Wizard's chess with his new board. Everything was quiet for a long time except for the occasional crash and curse from the kitchen, and gulp from Spike's corner.

After a while Mrs. Weasley leaned her head out the kitchen door and said, "Breakfast is ready, if you'd like to start. Every thing's on the table." She then disappeared back into the kitchen to clean up.

Spike folded his paper and stood up, making his way quietly into the breakfast room, the trio following closely behind. They were all just sitting down when there were three loud POPS and there were Charlie, Bill, and Mr. Weasley standing next to the fireplace.

"Morning all!" Mr. Weasley chimed, answered by all the people already at the table.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, you three. Can't you Apparate outside? Use the door like normal people." Mrs. Weasley reprimanded them as they all sat down, but you could tell by the twinkle in her eye that she really was happy to see them.

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Spike sat quietly at the table, not talking much as the food was passed around. He liked this group of people, he really did. It's just... it's hard to fit in when nobody but one person knows that you are technically dead. So he just sat quietly and sipped from his mug, making sure everyone saw that he took at least a few bites of eggs and toast, even though he didn't really want any.

He listened half-heartedly to the various conversations around the table, things such as the two oldest brothers, Specks, and Ron discussing the newest Quiditch games, Hermione speaking with Senior Weasley about the Ministry, and Mrs. Weasley pecking at everyone to take seconds and thirds. Having finished his blood (conveniently enchanted to look like coffee) he just sat and read the paper until everyone was finished.

"Well, I say it's time we all leave," Mr. Weasley stated as he stood up from the table and stretched. "Everyone get dressed and meet me down here in twenty minutes. Can't take all day, now."

With that every one dispersed to their respective rooms to get ready.

"Will you be joining us, William?" Mr. Weasley asked politely.

"No, I..."

"Of course he will, Arthur. I'll just help him with some things in the sitting room." Mrs. Weasley cut in, dragging Spike by the collar of his duster into the next room.

"Dumbledore sent you this," she said, once they were out of hearing range, pulling a small jewelry box from her apron pocket, handing it to him.

"Well, I'm greatly honored, but don't you think he ought to ask me to marry him in person?" he said with a smirk. She cuffed his shoulder.

"Just open it, you prat," she replied.

Inside was a small necklace made of gold, or something similar, inlaid with tiny sapphires and rubies. He just looked at it, then turned his gaze back to Molly. "What's this?"

"It's a Rowan Jewel necklace, it repels sunlight." She replied with a smile.

Spike just stared at her with disbelief. "Now you're just pulling my leg. Those things are too rare to just fling them at any random va... ahem... person." He had corrected his words in case anybody was listening.

"Ah, but you're not just some random 'person.' You're here for a reason, if I'm not mistaken, and Dumbledore felt that you could better do your job if you had this. So be good and put it on."

He did just that, but felt no difference. To be sure of its effects he cautiously crept over to the nearest window and stuck a single finger into the Sun's rays. He winced, expecting it to burn to a crisp. But when it didn't he stuck his whole arm into the light, smiling when still nothing happened. He stepped fully into the light and turned around a bit, looking himself over.

"This is great! I forgot how nice and warm the sun could be!" He turned his face to the sky and basked in the radiance.

"Dumbledore said that it only works for about three hours at a time, after that you have to take it off and let it recharge overnight. Takes a lot of magic to do what it's doing. The Sun's rather powerful," she said, giving him a motherly hug.

Somewhere in the back of his brain Spike was thinking about how odd it was that he was allowing her to do what she was doing without a fuss. When had the Big Bad become so soft? Spinning around and acting like a child, it was undignified. But he quietly pushed those thoughts to the back of his brain. Why question something that's good? It would just earn you a headache.

At the appointed time he and the other members of the household gathered at the fireplace, each getting a pinch of Floo Powder as they stepped into the grate. Mr. Weasley went first, followed by Bill, Charlie, Ron, Hermione, himself, then Mrs. Weasley came behind him.

He had also forgotten how much he hated travelling by Floo. Soot and dust flew everywhere in the spinning vortex of fireplaces all around him. It made him feel quite sick. It also made him question the logic of eating right before doing this. His stomach was going to have a few choice words with him when it stopped spinning around somewhere near his toes.

He finally shot out into the dimly lit room of the Leaky Cauldron where everyone who had gone before him was waiting.

"All right there, William?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"William?" Hermione asked, looking puzzled.

"It's my real name, ducks," Spike said. "But you just continue calling my Spike, alright?"

"O...kay..." she replied, still a little puzzled.

Molly soon popped out of the fireplace, immediately produced a clothing brush and started swatting at everyone within reach. They all made a hasty getaway through the back door into the small, walled courtyard. Arthur tapped the necessary bricks and the pinpoint opened slowly into an archway. Spread before him was Diagon Alley in full daylight, shops buzzing and people mingling around gossiping.

One thought occurred to him as he and the rest of the group made their way in, 'It's nice to be back.'