Harry Potter and the Alliance of Blood

Harry Potter and the Alliance of Blood

Chapter 2

When Harry woke up staring at the crimson curtains of his bed, he couldn't help but grin goofily. He was at home, his real home, and he had only to stand the Dursleys for one more summer before he was free. It was such a surreal situation that Harry really couldn't quite grasp it, but he was very sure he could get used to it. He let out a small chuckle before rolling out of bed and going to stand by his window. Madame Pomfrey had told him he would be dining as usual in the Great Hall with all the present teachers and two students who were staying that summer. Harry supposed that they were orphans with really no where to go, but he still had to hold off his anger that Dumbledore hadn't allowed him to stay when he knew that the Dursleys treated him horribly. He let out a sigh as he focused on the ground. The squid was sailing lazily over the surface of the lake, the birds were singing, and it was all in all a beautiful summer day. The wizarding clock on the wall showed the time as 9:30, and he hoped breakfast was served later in the summer. He dressed in blue jeans and a blue shirt, and departed for the Great Hall. He walked more slowly than usual, savoring being back in the familiar halls without the usual noise and stares. It was so very quiet Harry found himself walking faster, since it became slightly creepy. The high table was in its usual place, and one regular sized dining room table in the center of the room. A girl and a boy were sitting across from each other, talking between bites of food. The staff table was empty except for Professor Vector, who Harry had never bothered to get to know. The two looked up as Harry approached, and they looked vaguely familiar, as if he had passed them in the hall.

"Hi," the girl said, "I'm Katherine. Ravenclaw. This is Greg. He's from Slytherin." Harry gave a small smile and nodded, sitting down. He felt vaguely taken aback when he realized that Greg was a member of his "enemy house," but forced himself not to let his perceptions of a few people take over the whole group.

"Hi." Greg was looking at him rather strangely before he shrugged and looked away.

"Draco talks about you all the time," he commented quietly as Harry heaped a few sausages on his plate. Harry laughed.

"Yeah, I imagine he does. He rather loathes me. 'That Potter, prancing around the school like he's done something amazing. Oh, hey. Let's go kiss Voldie's toes,'" Harry mocked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"You guys are always at it. Everyone's always talking about it," Katherine commented. Harry shrugged.

"We've hated each other from day one. Although, now I just kind of dislike him. Childish rivalries just don't seem important anymore. Of course, I was responsible for his father landing in Azkaban, so I guess I really can't blame him for hating me," Harry replied.

"He is rather attractive, though," she sighed. Harry choked on his juice.

"But he's a total prick!" he exclaimed, his cheeks slightly red. Greg smirked and rolled his eyes.

"That doesn't automatically make him have green skin and claws. And just because he is rude to you doesn't mean he can't be decent usually. I think he is towards the top of the greatest catch list of Hogwarts," he said. Harry suddenly noticed the feminine edge to Greg's voice, and the way his eyes got a dreamy look just like Katherine's. His cheeks got even pinker. Harry wondered just how many things he had missed in his naivety.

"What is it?" Katherine asked.

"What?" Harry asked, startled. She grinned.

"You had this frustrated look on your face." Harry blushed even more.

"Oh...uh....long story," he replied lamely, taking a sip of juice to distract himself. Greg opened his mouth apparently to say something, but Harry was saved by the opening of the Great Hall doors. A man walked in, and Harry's brain cells blinked, because he was in...leather pants. They were rather tight, and black, and Harry was sure that they were against the dress code. He found himself blushing uncontrolably. His hair was black and fell past his shoulders, and his eyes were a yellow so vivid Harry could see the color. He met the man's eyes and quickly looked away.

"That's Professor Gabriel, for Defense," Greg whispered. Harry looked quickly up at the teacher just in time to see him flash a smile, that quite prominetly displayed his fangs. Harry felt the blood draining from his face, and he felt a sudden overwhelming urge to run.

"Hi Greg, Katherine," Gabriel, temporary Prince of the Daywalkers said, paused, and then continued more softly, "Harry Potter." The cold mixture of fear and rage was slowly approaching, and Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and keep it down.

"Hello, Professor Gabriel," Katherine and Greg chimed, both looking rather misty-eyed. Harry couldn't say anything.

"I wonder if I might have a word, Harry," Gabriel said, and Harry paled even more.

"Oh-uh....I..."

"I won't bite, I promise," Gabriel said, and Harry had the distinct impression he was being laughed at, which served to make him angry.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied stiffly, his eyes going distant, a look he had perfected for when Snape was harking on him. He knew it unsettled his Potions Professor, and was hoping it could gain him some caution from the Daywalker. Gabriel smiled slowly, and Harry saw Katherine and Greg exchange a glance. He didn't doubt that they would burst into giggles once the Professor was out of ear shot.

"Follow me," Gabriel said, and Harry rose with a small goodbye wave of his hand to Greg and Katherine and followed him back out the Great Hall doors. As they walked, Gabriel seemed content to remain silent, and Harry refused to say anything. This...person and his people were responsible for him loosing control of yet another aspect of his life. They reached the Defense classroom after about five minutes, and Gabriel led the way up the short staircase to his office.

"Have a seat, Harry," Gabriel said with a gesture to the chair in front of his desk. The Daywalker didn't sit behind his desk, however, but perched on the edge. He seemed perfectely relaxed and at ease, something Harry could not mimic.

"All right. Albus asked me to tell you a few things he didn't get the oppurtunity to because of...well, you know. I wanted to tell you that you will not return to your relatives without a full escort, because it is no longer safe."

"Why?" Harry inquired, forcing himself to be serious when all he wanted to do was jump in jubilation. Never go back to the Dursley's? No more starvation, accusations of freakishness, sneers, taunts, abuse, and endless chores? It was a miracle Harry had wanted for a very long time, and yet it was so very ironic that a person he was inclined to dislike was the one to inform him of it.

"The charm which granted you safety was created in a time when the head of the family had complete ownership and control of minors. So, in a way, it granted your uncle complete rights and ownership of you. Now, however, you belong to the Prince. The charm dissolved the moment Albus made the deal, which was the night before last," Gabriel said very matter-of-factly. Harry was outraged. He didn't belong to anybody! He opened his mouth to protest in a very loud tone of voice, but Gabriel cut him off.

"Yes, yes. You don't literally belong to him. In a figurative sense, only. Don't be so high strung," Gabriel said in a teasing voice, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not 'high strung.' I just don't appreciate the fact that I'm considered property," Harry ground out, the rage rising in him rapidly, and he was not inclined to hold it back. Gabriel was looking at him rather strangely.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"What?" Harry snapped. He was so angry. Things were starting to lose focus, and he wanted badly just to lash out at something.

"You're calling your power. It takes an average witch or wizard intense training and concentration to call their raw magic forward. How long have you been able to do it?" Harry felt the anger melting away in his confusion.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, blinking rapidly as everything shifted back into focus. It was gone, just like that. Gabriel was looking confused, and slightly awed.

"Just now, you were calling power. How did you feel?" Harry looked at him for a moment before looking at his lap, suddenly feeling slightly ashamed. He still sort of felt he shouldn't have such dark feelings.

"Angry. Not just mad, but...enraged. Like I could, I dunno, kill someone. And it was cold. Like I could do awful things and not even care," Harry whispered. He felt a growing horror. Maybe he had more in common with Voldemort than anyone knew.

"Well, as mate to our Prince, we knew you would be powerful. But you have so much, and you use it so easily. It really is quite amazing." Yes, there was definetly awe in the Professor's voice. Harry was silent.

"I'll have to tell Dumbledore, and we can figure out what to do. Until then, I still have some things to discuss with you. This will not just be a leisurely summer. You requested to learn several things. You will be taught swordplay by myself and a few others, since you expressed a wish to not be defenseless without your wand. Resisting Unforgiveables will be covered in Advanced Defense, because I have been given an official sanction from the Ministry. Minerva McGonnagal has offered to help you learn to be an animagus. Also, Albus has created a new class. It seems you gave him a good idea last year, though he didn't elaborate. It is a class specifically designed to teach dueling spells and blocks. Liam, one of my people, will be instructing it." Here Gabriel paused, looking hesitant and uncomfortable for the first time during the proceedings.

"There are some things that you need to know that do not have a Ministry sanction. You don't have to learn them if you don't want to, of course, but Albus recommends it." Gabriel paused again. "You need to know how to kill, and disarm, and cause pain. When we finally fight, Death Eaters won't use legal curses. I have asked him, and Severus agreed to teach you." Harry stared at Gabriel for a long time, thinking rapidly. He had thought, just yesterday, exactly what Gabriel was telling him, and yet he was afraid. It was said that Dark magic could be addictive, and Harry was afraid of what he would become if he started using it. What if he ended up as insane as Tom Marvolo Riddle. But.....he had to know, because if he failed, the whole world could fall. Harry nodded.

"I'll learn. But Snape loathes me," he said, trying to lighten the moment, though he was hesitant. Gabriel grinned rather mischieviously, which puzzled Harry.

"He'll be nice. I made him promise," Gabriel said with a chuckle. Harry laughed.

"But he really really hates me. I don't think there's anything anyone could do to make him be 'nice,'" Harry said. Another wicked grin.

"Oh, there's plenty of things I can do to make Severus do anything my little heart desires," Gabriel said in a rather flighty voice. Harry choked on several images that he really really didn't want to see. The Daywalker smiled down at him, and Harry hoped to any gods that existed that what he was thinking wasn't true. It was just too much. Gabriel laughed.

"Minerva wanted to see you. Lessons can start tonight. Meet me here at seven," Gabriel said, and Harry quickly took the oppurtunity to run, before the Professor dropped any more innuendoes that his overactive teenage imagination could interpret badly.

The door to McGonngal's office was open, and she was sitting at her desk, frowning at a sheet of parchment as if it had insulted her. Harry knocked timidly on the doorframe, and she looked up, blinked, and gave a smile.

"Mr. Potter. How nice to see you. Come in and we'll get started," she said in a friendly manner, and Harry obeyed her command, albeit cautiously. McGonagall was usually much more stern. She stood up and walked around her desk, looking at him for a long time. Her scrutiny made him uncomfortable, and he found himself shifting his feet like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"All right, Potter. This is how it works. You can't choose you Animagus form. Your form will be whatever form it is. Once we figure out what it is, we can start trying to transform you. It takes extreme relaxation, and a force of magic to change your form, along with firm concentration. The hard part will be finding your animal. We probably won't guess right the first time. After you attempt to transform, and we picked the wrong animal, your magical energy will be depleted for days, which is why we need to get this in as few tries as possible. This will probably take months, maybe even a year. Is this all making sense so far, and do you still want to do it?" McGonnagal stated frankly, and Harry was a little surprised. A whole year? Sirius had said it took them three years, but Harry had figured that was just because they hadn't had the proper training. But....it would be very unfortunate if he was in a situation where an animal form would have been handy, and he had decided not to try because he didn't want to make a big commitment.

"Yes, Professor," he replied, and she nodded.

"All right. Sit down, and tell me what you might like to be, and what you think you might be," she ordered, sitting behind her desk again. Harry took a seat and was silent for a few moments.

"Well. Since I'm a Gryffindor and I'm supposed to be brave and such, I could be a lion. But-no. Not a lion. I don't really know what I'd like to be. I don't really have a preference, I guess." He was silent again for a few seconds before an idea came upon him. He tried to push it away, because though he didn't have anything he'd like to be, he certaintly did not want to be that. But....did he really have a choice?

"I might be-" he started, but stopped. McGonnagal looked at him curiosly. "I think I might become a snake."

"Why?" she asked, looking rather confused. Harry took in a breath. The more he thought about it, the more he was absolutely certain that his animagus form was a snake.

"The Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin, and I speak Parseltongue, and....well, snakes do camoflauge really well, right? And Dumbledore said that the reason I won against Voldemort all those times was because he underestimated me." McGonnagal was quiet for a while, with a thoughtful expression on her face, before slowly shaking her head.

"No. Animagus forms are supposed to encompass your personality totally. You are too loyal, and you are not a solitary creature. You are a leader, you don't back down, and you are fierce when you defend those you love. No, I don't think you're a snake. But we will keep it in mind, in case we don't come up with anything else."

Harry felt the burning of tears in his eyes, a sensation that was coming rapidly familiar. He was grateful to his Head of House, for it seemed like she could see what was bothering him, and understood, and didn't want to declare him unloyal to Gryffindor and banish him to Slytherin. Harry blinked to clear the tears and gritted his teeth for a moment. 'Don't be so childish. You have to save the world. There is no time for tears.'

"Yes, Professor," he said quietly,once he had gained his control. McGonnagal flashed him a rare warm smile before her face became stern again.

"I can tell you that you aren't a house cat. You aren't aloof, or overly self-assured. You aren't a house dog either, since you are no follower, and you don't tend to be blindly devoted. you aren't a fish, or a sparrow, or a groundhog." McGonnagal paused, looking at him for a long time. "Potter, once I asked someone why they had joined the Death Eaters. He replied, 'Minerva, there are predators and prey in this world and I did what I had to do to survive.' This applies remarkably to your situation, which Albus did enlighten me of, by the way. If you ever need help, you have only to ask me. You have to do what you have to do to survive, and by surviving, save all of us. The world may not ever know of that sacrifice, and it might not approve if it did, but I, for one, am eternally grateful to you." McGonnagal paused again. There was a lump in Harry's throat that he refused to let emerge as tears.

"Thank you, Professor McGonnagal." She did not reply to his thanks, but continued speaking, but Harry wasn't offended. She had said what she needed to say.

"You are not prey, Mr. Potter. You are a predator. It is not apparent. In fact, most people cling to the hope of your sucess rather deperately. You are just a teenager, after all, and Rita Skeeter's emphasis on your insanity and love life have decreased the faith even farther. But I see, as I am trained to, that you are capable of using a certain ruthlessness when it comes down to life and death." Here, McGonnagal looked at him sadly.

"Dumbledore got the record of all the spells cast that night, just to make sure no nasty surprises would come around later, and there was a Cruciatus curse on that record. The spell was not surprising, but the strength of it was. It was a spell of amazing strength, but it was held for mere moments. The Cruciatus curse requires a large amount of hate and desire to inflict pain. So someone was very enraged for only moments, but could not sustain it." Harry was having trouble breathing. Would he go to Azkaban for casting the spell against Lestrange?

"So do not think, Harry, that you are becoming an evil or dark person. Any wizard or witch on the street worth his salt could cast a three second Cruciatus curse in a moment of intense distress, but they are not able to sustain it. Because they don't have enough capacity to hate. And neither do you."

"Yes, Professor," Harry whispered in reply. She gave him a fleeting, reassuring smile.

"I can only see so much of who you are in class and at meals. Make a list tonight of ways you act in different settings. In the general public, at your relatives, in the common room, with your friends, when you taught that extracurricular defense class, and when you're alone. Bring it here tomorrow at eleven and we'll go through the list and place each characteristic with animals that have it and two other traits of yours. That should narrow the list a little. And don't leave anything out, either. I couldn't care less about your embarrassment."

"Yes, Professor."

"Go. Professor Snape wants to see you in his office."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said as he left, dread gathering in the pit of his stomach like a rock, along with anger. Snape was always such a prick to him, and he still wanted to blame Snape for what had happened to Sirius. But that was unfair and stupid and Harry knew it. If he hadn't gotten curious, again, Snape wouldn't have been so upset. Still....he was a prick.

The door to Snape's office was open, and Harry saw Snape sitting at his desk, writing something. Well, it beared a small resemblance to Snape's office, and the person at the desk looked kind of like Snape, but it couldn't be. The office, whuch had formerly been lighted gloomily, just enough to proudly illuminate the jars full of unrecognizable materials, was now lighted cheerily, by antique-looking lamps placed on small shelves on the walls all around the room. Instead of shelves holding jars, however, their were closed cabinets made of oak, concealing the unattractive jars, attractively. As for Snape, well....he looked very different. That black hair, which had always been so greasy, was looking properly washed and brushed and secured in at the base of his neck. And his skin no longer had a yellowish tint, he was just very pale. Harry had to force himself not to blurt out some phrase like, "What the fuck happened to you?!", which would earn him detention for the next two years and the loss of several thousand house points. Harry had gathered himself and was just about to knock on the doorframe, when Snape looked up and pierced him with those black eyes that had always made Harry just a little afraid.

"What are you waiting for. Come in, and sit down, and be quiet while I finish this," Snape snapped, and Harry quickly obeyed, quietly as a little mouse. After a few moments, he let his eyes wander, taking in the tasteful goldenrod and brown rug under the desk and chair, wallpaper border (on stone wall?) in matching colors, and a wingbacked chair in the corner, with a footstool, in the same colors, and a small sidetable next to it in oak, holding a book and a lamp matching the others in the room. The title of the book read: A Tale of Two Cities. A Muggle book?! In Professor Snape's office. There was only one explanation. Snape had gotten married. And indeed, on the ring finger of his left hand, Snape sported a silver ring with a small black gem between two yellow ones. Harry just couldn't imagine who would marry Snape, of all people, and get him to decorate his office in what could be constituted as "warm colors."

"All right, Potter." Harry snapped to attention, regarding Snape warily. "I don't have time for idiotic reassurances, nor do I have time for a person who is unable or unwilling to cast. If you can't do it, and I will know, these lessons are over. For good. You know where I learned these spells, and if you don't want to learn 'Dark magic' (Snape actually made quotes with his fingers. Something was really wrong) get out." Harry suddenly couldn't find it in him to be afraid of his Potion's Master any more. He had made quotes with his fingers, not something to strike fear into the hearts of the innocent.

"Well, I've formulated the opinion that magic is not necessarily Dark or Light, but whatever the caster would make of it," Harry replied quietly, inwardly smiling as Snape looked at him as if he'd spontaneously combusted.

"Then maybe you aren't totally hopeless after all," the Potions Master finally spat out venemously, obviously loathing every syllable of the statement. Harry didn't reply.

"You will be learning spells that are illegal unless you're in the extremest of situations. I will be refining knowledge of what you already know from teaching your little club, and teaching you how to strengthen and weaken the force of your casting depending on what it needed. I will also teach you how to 'play' (no quotes this time) with the spells to change them slightly depending on your needs. Every spell has more than one aspect to it, and if you alter it a bit, a completely different result will occur. I'll leave the blocking to Gab--Professor Gabriel. We might progress to the Unforgiveables, but I doubt you have the skill or the will. You also have to understand your magic. The incantations are not completely necessary. The spells' names and wand movements are used to trigger a part of your brain that remembers the sensations with each other and associates them with the memory of the spell, triggering your magic to be used in that particular way. If you are capable, we will start trying to train you to merely think the incantation. Sometimes, stealth is needed. Also, just thinking the incantation is the basis for wandless magic, which Dumbledore might want to teach you one day. Come back tomorrow afternoon after lunch,and we'll begin." Snape paused, and there was a knock on the doorframe. A strange expression crossed Snape's face and Harry turned to see Gabriel leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a grin upon his face, and his eyes sparkling. That, coupled with the leather pants and ear piercing made Gabriel look rather dangerous and something else that Harry was not going to name. Snape had a look similar to that of a deer that was about to be hit by a car.

"Hello Severus. A...word?" Gabriel purred. Snape's scared look turned to anger.

"I'm. With. A. Student," the Potions Master hissed, and Harry couldn't help but flinch. Snape was rather scary.

"I know, Sev, but he was just leaving. Weren't you, Harry?" Sev?

"Uh...yeah," Harry quavered, moving to get up.

"Sit, Potter," Snape ordered. Harry sat.

"But Sev," Gabriel whined, drawing Sev out into three syllables, "I need to wish you a proper happy birthday." (Snape had birthdays?) The last part was purred. Snape's face started to flush along the cheekbones, and he gritted his teeth.

"Go, Potter. Don't forget to come back tomorrow," Snape snapped. Harry got out of his chair quickly, and headed for the door. The second he got out, the door slammed shut, and a silencing spell snapped into place. Harry walked to the Great Hall, his cheeks flaming. He had no doubt what the two were doing, because Gabriel sported a ring with a yellow gem in between two onyxs. Well, it appeared Snape was in some kind of permanent relationship, and a woman had not decorated his office. Harry had an inkling feeling that this was going to be an interesting year indeed.