Harry, Draco and Ron: Vampire Hunters

Chapter II. Owl post once again.

I've sent a letter before,

I've sent a dream to you, baby, last night,

From the end of the world.

- E.L.O. "From the end of the world".

The next day was as usual as the previous one, the Dursleys made no action whatsoever to show that they knew about Harry's birthday, but he wasn't surprised - this was the way things were all these fifteen years. Once more he worked in the garden, thinking of how to formulate the suggestion to Ron upon his actions towards Hermione and wondering if McGonagall would really let him turn down Divination AND prefectship. The time flew by rather fast, he didn't even notice as he worked into the evening, the garden looking rather nice now, though Harry secretly knew it'd go bad as soon as he stops tending to it as his aunt Petunia had no idea of how did he get it so good-looking (actually, neither did he, but who cared?).

After eating (which was boring and not really nourishing as usual) he went up to his room to finish his History of Magic essay (the topic being "Wizards and witches that were famous in the Muggle world") and discovered that two more owls had arrived. One was with a letter from McGonagall, the other - from Ginny (and as it was not an owl Harry recognized as an owl of the Weasleys, he thought that this time she used a post office owl).

"Dear Mr. Potter!" said the first one,

"Your letter has got us by surprise, for we were almost sure you would accept the position of a prefect. But since you turned this opportunity down, we have to inform you that Neville Longbottom will be offered this position instead of you.

As for your exchange of Divination studies for Arithmancy, we have to warn you that if you are sure about this decision, then you will have to catch up on the rest of Arithmancy class upon all the subjects they have learned during last year. Owl your response as soon as possible.

Deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Minerva McGonagall."

Harry compared the odds of him either making big successes in Divination or catching up on the Arithmancy he missed, considering the fact that he had Hermione to help him with Arithmancy, and settled upon the second choice. He sat down immediately, wrote the answer he decided on and sent it off with the Hogwarts owl.

He then opened the second letter.

"Dear Harry!

Of course it has a deeper meaning; you of all people should understand that! I just thought that I never thanked you for saving me from that horrible basilisk properly, and this seemed like a good idea. The shop owner said it has some magic qualities, but he didn't say which. Hope it's something nice!

Best wishes,

Ginny Weasley."

Harry frowned inwardly; now he had hurt her feelings! At least he managed to make her tell him why such a present... He picked up his quill and a piece of parchment, writing:

"Dear Ginny!

Sorry for being such a fool. I was not quite myself yesterday. Thank you for your present, the colour really fits my eyes. Hope I did not offend you.

Best intentions,

Harry Potter."

He then took another parchment and started writing:

"Hello Ron!

As Hermione told me, you are mistreating her. Of course, I do know your attitude towards Viktor and the rest of Durmstrang students, but don't you think it is not very nice to restrict Hermione? She's not a child, you know, she can make her own decisions. Not that I'm intruding or teaching you about relationships with girls, as I'm not really good at it myself, but you could at least for once listen to what Hermione has to say on this matter!

Your friend,

Harry."

He then packed up both letters and sent them off with the owl that brought Ginny's. He would also gladly write a response to Hermione herself, but he was fresh out of owls available for this job, and getting one was not a very easy task, especially in the middle of a Muggle town.

He turned to the book Hermione sent him, considering the fact that he was one of the people on top of Voldemort's "Kill these people first" list, and that this book might give him an idea of what should happen to him if he has the misfortune to be caught by Voldemort or his Death Eaters again.

The book turned out to be more of an encyclopaedia about Dark spells and creatures. Some of them were exceptionally spooky, like the Living Wall, for instance.

"A living wall contains the melded bodies of humanoids and monsters who died within a hundred yards of the wall since its creation. Those who die fighting a living wall are absorbed into it and actually strengthen it: If a wizard becomes melded with a living wall, his spellcasting abilities are retained and can immediately be used for attacks. If a warrior loses his life in combat with a living wall, his fighting abilities and his weapons come under control of the beast: the weapons are hidden within the wall until the wall attacks, then are pushed through the mass of greying flesh to the surface. A hand attaches itself to the weapon, and eyes jutting from the wall guide the attack of the weapon. If the wall absorbs someone with ranged weapons, the weapons become useless once arrows, quarrels, or other necessary projectiles are expended.

Living walls never reproduce and always remain active until they are killed. Living walls encountered in the lairs of malevolent creatures often serve as part of a torture chamber, or to cover the true openings to secret passageways or corridors.

No one knows whether these monstrosities are limited in size or longevity. Walls as large as 15 feet high, 30 feet long, and 10 feet thick have been reported. Living walls do, however, seem to be limited to one section of wall. Thus, a cemetery or castle could not be surrounded by one large living wall. Nor can a wall section spread beyond itself: a house with a living wall in its basement will not slowly become a living house.

The wall desires, above all else, to slay the creature who created it. If it does so, or the creature meets its end within a hundred yards of the wall, the corpse of the hated creator is assimilated and the beings trapped in the wall are freed to return to the peace of death. The wall reverts to being a structure of stone, with the corpse of its creator entombed within."

Harry shuddered involuntarily at the thought of his body being assimilated by something like that. He stopped for a moment to listen to any sounds within the house. It was quiet. It was actually quieter than usually, no Dudley watching TV, listening to loud music or snoring, no sounds of his aunt and uncle. Harry imagined for a moment that they all were consumed by a Living Wall hidden somewhere within the house. But as he heard music starting to play in Dudley's room, he swept those horrid thoughts away. Though, he mused, if they actually died, he would not grieve strongly.

Dudley turned up the volume; he did that rarely, but now was one of those times. Harry was actually enjoying for once, that not he was the object of his uncle's fury, but Dudley, as he reached the age at which teenagers start listening to "heavy metal" music. That made uncle Vernon complain loudly that he could not hear what were the people on TV saying, and demanded that Dudley turns down the volume at least a bit. This time the song was about a letter from a long-dead father to his son, not as loud and horribly monstrous in sounds produced as the others were. Harry listened to it for a bit...

When you are old enough to read these words,

Their meaning will unfold,

These words are all that's left,

Though we've never met my only son I hope you know,

That I would have been there to watch you grow,

But my call was heard and I did go.

Now your mission lies ahead of you, as so did mine so long ago:

To help the helpless ones who all look up to you,

And to defend them to the end...

Defender...

Ride like the wind,

Fight proud, my son,

You're the defender

God has sent...

Somehow, it reminded him of his own life: no parents, raised without their care, their absence irreversible, and now the reason of why they died was to catch up with him...

He didn't even notice as he slowly drifted into sleep...

*****

"Most of my people have finished moving into the designated area, my Lord," Reilak reported.

"Very well, have them ready with everything by September," Voldemort responded as he turned away from the window to face the vampire lord, "It's until then that you will have to wait for further instructions, and... Should there be any troubles with Muggles or wizards wandering into the area, make sure they don't wander out... We don't want anyone to know what's going on there, now do we?"

"No, my Lord..." Reilak answered as he gazed out through the window, his eyes travelling over the legions of dark-robed people marching into the fortress.

"When this is over you and your people will be the sole rulers of Scotland and Ireland until we subdue more territories... The more you will help, the more you will get," Voldemort said grimly, "Let's just hope whoever you are sending to get Potter doesn't fall for this boy's tricks, for he has already earned a reputation of a hard-to-catch prey... Are they up to it?"

"If they fail, death awaits them," Reilak replied tonelessly, "then I'll send others, and so on, until he is in our hands. If necessary we'll resort to the simplest tricks in the books, tricks like taking hostages..."

"Excellent, my friend. Now leave me alone."

"Yes, my Lord..." the vampire said...

*****

Harry woke up suddenly. He looked around himself, noticing that it was still dark and that he fell asleep in his clothes, the book resting on his chest.

"What a strange dream!" he thought. "But... if it wasn't a dream... if it, like before, was a real event... Then this means we're in trouble!"

For a moment or two he considered the possibility of owling Dumbledore and notifying him of his dream, but then Harry remembered the two tiny facts that would restrain him from doing so: as a first, he was unsure of the reality of what he saw, Voldemort and a vampire named Reilak overlooking an army of dark-robed people, supposedly vampires, gathering in a desolate fortress, somewhere in Scotland, according to the sights outside and their words... And as a second, he did not know how his headmaster would react to such an action. Harry knew nothing about the thoughts that Dumbledore himself had on the topic of Voldemort's return, not to mention the ideas concerning what to do with it. He finally decided that the moment he's got an owl to send the letter with he will...

At that point his train of thoughts was interrupted by the arrival of Hedwig. She carried no answer, possibly Sirius and Remus (Harry could not think about him in any way other than "Professor Lupin") did not have anything to say yet, or had some other reason to hold up with their answer. So, he finally had an owl to deliver his message.

"Dear Hermione!

Thank you for the book, it is most interesting!

As for Ron, well, I've sent him a letter with a suggestion to act like a decent human being, but, knowing Ron, he'll either think that I'm "mental" or, even worse, stop talking to me again. Anyway, I'd just like you to know that I've tried.

Hoping for the best,

Harry Potter."

He packed up this letter and turned to Hedwig, who just started making herself comfortable in her cage. Upon seeing a letter in his hand, she made a sound which unmistakeably would be translated into English from owlish as "Are you nuts?"

Fortunately, Harry did not speak owlish, so he said "I know it's a bit harsh to push you like that, but it's the last time, I promise!"

She seemed to have accepted her fate by now and let him tie the letter to her leg. Once he did it, she flew off into the darkness of the night. Meanwhile, Harry turned back to the book, reading more on the varied horrors Dark Magic could create.

*****

In the morning he was, as usual, rather rudely awoken by his aunt's voice.

"Get up, you lazy good-for-nothing boy! Time to work on my garden! And this time, I want all the weeds out of it, you hear me?"

He struggled up and answered in a sleepy voice "Yes, aunt Petunia..."

After a (small and once again, not really nourishing) breakfast, he went out into the garden again. During the last week he had noticed that his back starts to hurt less, the tools do not seem as heavy as before, in other words, he noticed that he got used to this work. "Well," he thought, "At least I'll have a Muggle job to do if I fail as a wizard..." But then he waved these pessimistic thoughts away and carried on with the work.

As the evening came and the sun started to descend, he heard his uncle yell "Get in here, boy!"

Wishing secretly that this was just a simple errand to run, not some extremely hard, extremely risky for both health and sanity, in other words, unwanted, task, Harry decided not to test his luck and did as he was told. It turned out that while he was working, a letter came in, and, what was the strangest thing, by Muggle post! After a bit of drilling Harry with an "if-looks-could-kill-you'd-be-ash-by-now" gaze, Vernon Dursley let his nephew have his letter, but as Harry took it, he added "Nothing strange and... unnormal, you hear me, boy?"

Harry nodded nervously, wondering what might have caused such a reaction from his uncle. He then looked at the return address. It was a letter from... Remus Lupin?

That's it, the letter was sent from a Mr. Remus J. Lupin! That meant that there's either one more Remus Lupin that knows this particular Harry Potter, or that Sirius has had a reason to send his letter this way. Harry stormed up to his room and practically ripped the envelope open.

"Hi again, Harry!

The reason to send this letter in the Muggle way was as simple as the world - the owl post staff has considered a lone werewolf that sends so much letters a bit strange and decided to er... decrease the amount of owls we could send from here at once. Sorry if it causes any trouble with your aunt and uncle.

Well, in terms of life, we're perfectly fine: the full moon is about a week behind, so it's pretty easy and normal... As for Buckbeak, I had to change my plans, so I left him at a safe place in southern Europe, don't worry, he'll be fine there.

Your godfather,

Sirius."

Harry could not help but smile at this point. Of course, the prejudice against werewolves was rather high in the wizarding world, so anybody could think of Remus as a suspicious person... But this was... was... well, Harry could not think of a word that would fit this situation properly, but he was sure that this word definitely was not a good one.

Later this evening, Hedwig returned and immediately took shelter within her cage looking like as if Harry would wish to send her with a letter, he'd have to kill her first (but then there could be no letter delivery, therefore it was impossible to force her, even if Harry really needed her to do it).

As all of his summer homework was done, he just lay in his bed, wondering about what evil Voldemort might be planning to do next...

*****

A/N Hear ye, hear ye! I've finally done this, yay! So being sick and forced to sit at home for a week and a half has its uses!

Hope y'all will excuse me for the lack of action, as I said, it's just setting the stage for now... Chapter 4 will have some action in it.

P.S. This is the updated and corrected version.