Curse of Fate

Title: Curse of Fate
Author: Mistress Nika
Rating: PG-15 (Yes, 15. That's somewhere between PG-13 and R)
Summary: Thousands of years into the future, vampire Harry only wants to join his loved ones in death. However, his curse of immortality is absolute. Therefore he sends himself back into the body of his infant self, vowing to this time refuse eternity. When do things ever go according to plan? Unexpected changes to the timeline, people who aren't as they once were and more send his life spiraling out of his control.
Pairings: Harry/Lucius(main), possible Harry/Severus, possible Lucius/Severus, possible Harry/Lucius/Severus, Sirius/Remus, Theo/Hermione, possible Theo/Blaise, possible Hermione/Ginny, Draco/Luna, possible one-sided Harry/Luna on Luna's part, possible Hermione/Pansy, Cedric/Eleanor(OC), past Harry/Ginny
Warnings: AU, het, slash, angst, language, violence, time travel, VampireHarry, DarkLordHarry
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Chapter Six:
Harry barely had the energy to open his eyes. Grudgingly, he admitted he may have overdone it. He had played a stressful and rather dangerous role, used several powerful spells, led an assault on a wizarding prison, faced down three vampires, tried to destroy one of the most powerful wards in existance, been hit by a magical attack unprotected, gone through the emotional turmoil of seeing his Master who didn't even know him and finally gave his system a shock by drinking more blood than he probably should have.

He hadn't realized exactly how tired he was until his skin had prickled where the sun struck it. Born vampires tended to have a natural tolerance for the sun and for one to react that way meant they were close to collapse.

He intended to spend the day in bed, locked in his darkened, warded room in a deep healing sleep.

He didn't even notice when the only other occupant of the house got in her car and left.

Petunia was even more frightened now. She stood before a reception desk in a large room filled with many people going to and fro around her. The entrance hall was completely closed off and lit by floating candles. A scuffle between a tall, athletic woman dressed all in leather and a man in rich red robes was quickly broken up by burly security guards who brandished sticks at them both.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked, looking bored.

"Y-yes." Petunia stuttered while wringing her hands nervously. "Could you tell me where to go if I have a vampire child?"

Pointing absently with a quill, the woman replied, "Family Support. Down that hall. Follow the signs."

Petunia thanked her and hurried to find the appropriate office. The less time she spent in this place, the better. She almost screamed as a man bumped into her and turned to apologize, flashing his fangs in a wide grin.

She knocked almost frantically at the door bearing the appropriate words.

"Come in," a man's voice called from within.

She opened the door and ducked inside. The office was simple, done in shades of creme and beige and sparcely furnished with two plush armchairs before a desk, behind which sat a middle-aged man with sandy blonde hair. He looked entirely normal, from his brown suit to the expensive looking pen he held poised over a document. That is, if you overlooked the cup of red liquid he held in his left hand and the rather sharp canines.

Setting down the cup and pen, he smiled and gave her his full attention. "Welcome to the Family Support Division of Vampiric Children Services, Department of Vampire Affairs. I'm Anthony Striga. Please, have a seat. How can I help you?"

Petunia sat primly in a chair and without preamble blurted out, "I think my nephew is a vampire."

Striga blinked for a moment before chuckling. "Not saying I don't believe you, but what makes you think that?"

Petunia took a deep breath and began. "It all started when he was six. He became...more agressive, and started using magic on people. Like the kids at school, muggle school. If they bullied him, they would suddenly just freeze up and fall over. My sister-in-law used to bring her dogs over to visit as well, but when she did they started going missing. Some would turn up horribly mauled and drained of blood. The boy is really smart too, much more than any normal child, even a genius. I thought it was just fre-- wizard stuff, but yesterday he threatened me and my family and stunned my son. When he did, I saw his eyes flash briefly red. He left last night sometime after seven and didn't return until two. This morning, he reacted badly to the sun and ran back to his room to sleep. He should still be there. And--"

"And?" Striga pressed.

"It's the way he looks. I think he's under a glamour, but I-- I can see through it sometimes. This morning, he-- Well, he looks like a vampire."

The man nodded thoughtfully and shuffled through some papers on his desk before replying. Drawing out a form of some kind, he asked, "Six is the age a born vampire would begin to show signs. Is there any history of vampirism in your family?"

"Oh no! No! Not us! His mother was my sister and she was completely normal!" She was quick to dissuade the idea that she could be anything but. "H- his father's family..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I must have your word that you won't reveal who his family is. It could cause me trouble with certain people if the information were to get out."

"Madam, this office is under Secrecy Charms. I couldn't reveal any information you have given me even if I wanted to."

"I see. In that case, my nephew is a Potter."

The man's eyes widened fractionally. "A Potter? The only living Potter is...Harry Potter." Leaning forward over his desk, he near whispered, "Your nephew is Harry Potter?"

Petunia nodded, leaning back in her seat away from him.

"Imagine," he breathed in awe, "The savior of the wizarding world, a vampire." Looking thoughtful, he tapped his pen against his chin. "I wonder if that could have had some kind of an effect on the Killing Curse, causing it to malfunction and..."

Seeing the man was lost in thought, Petunia sternly called his name in repremand.

Shaking himself, he chuckled. "Well, all the information seems to point to Mr. Potter being a born vampire, inherited from his father's side." He began making marks on several different forms while saying, "I'll send an investigator out to make sure. No doubt your home is behind wards, therefore you'll have to set a place to meet. Do you mind if I ask a few questions? It would help to have as much information as possible."

"Of course not." Petunia replied with a tight lipped smile, hoping the questions wouldn't be too...invasive.

"Exactly how old is Mr. Potter now?"

"He's nine. Yesterday was his birthday."

"Who else lives with him?"

"Myself, my husband, Vernon and my son, Dudley."

"Has he ever injured any of you?"

"Not...exactly."

"Exactly?"

"Well, he's knocked us unconscious with magic, but he's never physically harmed us."

"I see. Would you like to tell Mr. Potter what he is now, or wait until he's older?"

"I'll wait, thank you. He deserves as normal a childhood as he can have." No way would she give the boy more power over them than he already had.

"Very well. I'll set you up with an advisor who'll teach you how to properly care for your nephew's special needs. You'll also need to visit the Vampire Registration Office before he turns eleven if you want him to attend a wizarding school. Although, considering who he is, I believe you should owl Albus Dumbledore before registering him." He slid a document across the desk to her and pointed to a blank line at the bottom. "Tap your wand here, please. Then you can take this up to the VCS main office and they'll set you up with an advisor."

Petunia drew herself up proudly and replied with a huff, "I don't have a wand. I'm a squib."

Striga blinked at her a moment before saying, "Oh. Well...um...sign your name, please." He handed her his pen and muttered to himself, "What moron placed the Boy Who Lived with a squib?"

Petunia glared at the man, but dutifully signed her name after making sure all of the information was correct.

-SCENE BREAK-

Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a nice peaceful lunch when an owl flew in his window, dropping a newspaper on his desk and hastily exited.

He frowned. The morning paper had already arrived earlier. That meant this was a special issue, which could mean nothing but trouble for him. They would hardly rush a new one out so soon after the regular for a floo pile up or a professional Quidditch player injury.

Setting down his teacup, he picked up the paper and scanned the headline.

Fawkes was disturbed from his nap by a string of rather vulgur words not usually heard from the old headmaster.

"Death Eater Attack on Azkaban! First Succesful Escape in History! Is You-Know-Who Back?"

-SCENE BREAK-

A large majestic owl flapped steadily onwards towards it's destination. The small campfire in the heart of dark woods grew larger and it swooped down in a graceful arc, dropping a letter into the lap of a man in brown robes. It quickly took to the sky once more, not willing to stay in a place where powerful predators of the Dark lurked.

Remus Lupin looked at the letter in confusion a moment before picking it up. He could feel the others moving closer in curiosity as he passed his wand over it, scanning for any negative spells. Finding none, he opened it and began to read. With each line, his eyes grew wider.

"What's it say?" asked a tattered, feral looking young girl as she tried to peek over his shoulder. Not that it did her any good as she couldn't read.

"It's from our contact in Azkaban," Remus breathed as he began to read it aloud.

"Mr. Moony,
"I feel I must inform you of several events as they have occurred since our previous correspondance two days ago. Yesterday, an attack on the prison resulted in the escape of several prisoners. The attackers and released prisoners were comprised solely of Death Eaters. I make no speculations on who organized them, but whoever did possesses a quick mind and powerful magic. As you know, there are anti-apparation and anti-port key wards surrounding the island. Somehow, they bypassed them all. While the main force kept the guards busy at the gate, two others gained entry and went about freeing their comrades. What will interest you the most is that the main target of the attack seems to have been your friend, Mr. Padfoot. One person went to extraordianary measures to free him, all of which unfortunately failed. I believe you should--

"Moony! My love! My darling! How I miss you so! Oh, but for the memories of the time we spent together I would have gone mad in this awful place! I count the hours until we can be together again! Then I'll take you in my arms and kiss your lips and carress your--

"Mr. Padfoot sends you his fondest wishes and his sincerest apologies for interrupting an important report with his heartsick ramblings. As I was saying, I believe you should seek out the leader of this attack. He could be a powerful ally and only with his help will you be able to breach the wards protecting our canine friend. I have precious little information to give you on him as he was wearing a dark cloak and obviously couldn't stop for tea. He is a vampire, very young, very powerful, with startling green eyes. Also, he called Mr. Padfoot his family. I hope you can put this information to good use and remember, notify me before you move against Azkaban. It is with great reluctance and a sense of dread that I turn control of this parchment over to Mr. Padfoot once more.

"-M

"Seriously, Moony. I believe in you and I know you'll get me out of here someday. Just don't get yourself killed in the process. You and the Prongslet are all I have left in this world. And don't worry. I'm fine. I promise you, the Dementors can't get to me where I am and Mr. M's great company, most of the time. You should see this place, Moony. You'd be in scholarly heaven! Well, smack Greyback one for me. I'm sure he's leering at you for my 'heartsick ramblings' and deserves it.

"Yours,
"-Padfoot"

After finishing the letter, Remus glanced at the man sitting across the fire and found that he was indeed leering at him in a rather unsettling way.

"Should I do as he suggests, Fenrir?" he asked casually with a raised eyebrow.

Greyback growled quietly before getting up and stomping over to a tree where he planted himself at it's base, arms crossed and glaring.

"A young, green-eyed vampire?" the girl asked as she knelt respectfully on the ground, uncaring as her already dirty dress gathering more dirt and dried leaves. "Could it be the pup?"

"Harry?" Remus questioned as he absently plucked a twig from the girl's hair and tossed it aside. "I doubt it. Harry's human, a wizard." His hands smoothed invisible wrinkles from his robe as he stared at nothing, looking thoughful. The others took this opportunity to assume positions similiar to the girl's around him.

In total, there were one hundred and fifty seven werewolves present. They were the largest, most powerful and most influential pack in the world. However, looking at them, you wouldn't know it. All of them wore clothes that had been mended repeatedly in varying shades of brown, all the better to fade quickly into the forest. The men wore either pants or shorts usually with no shirts, some bearing red smudges on their exposed chests. The women wore short dresses, as to free their legs when they ran and their hair was long and wild. Very few wore shoes and most wore some type of bone or fang jewelery, collected from prey they had killed.

Only a handful of them had any sort of education, having been shunned from the world after being bitten. Remus had been trying to teach them simple things, but he found it difficult when he was often away.

Amongst them, he looked like a lord in comparison. His wizard's robes were mended very carefully and in much better shape than the others' clothing. His hair was neatly trimmed and the way he held himself was very different from any of them. He had a sort of quiet confidence and wisdom not present in any other werewolf of their pack.

He was their Alpha, their leader.

After a moment's contemplation, he spoke again. "I suppose it's possible that Harry could be a vampire." he mused almost to himself. Everyone listened with rapt attention. They respected his intelligence almost as much as his strength. "The Potters have, at times, been vampires and he could have inherited it. I may not have been able to tell since he was so young the last time I saw him. However, it's doubtful Harry would lead Death Eaters to Azkaban to free a man he can't possibly remember."

"Can't you find out?" the girl asked softly. In her eyes, there was nothing he couldn't do.

Remus smiled at her. Annabelle was one of his favorites in the pack. She was extremely loyal, looking at him as a sort of father figure since he had beaten Fenrir Greyback and freed her from him. She was only thirteen.

"I doubt it. Albus Dumbledore placed wards around his home to keep out Dark creatures, to keep me out. There aren't any wizards left that would have dealings with me that I could trust with his location, so I can't have one of them check. Our spies in the Ministry, few as they may be, are already being watched." Remus sighed deeply. "There's really no way."

-SCENE BREAK-

Draco was more than slightly nervous. His home was filled with shady characters who were in need of more than just a wash and a few regular meals. Some of them didn't seem quite sane, the woman especially. His mother had introduced him to Aunt Bellatrix at breakfast. At first, she had seemed relatively normal, if slightly sickly looking. Her laughter was a bit unnerving, a high pitched cackle that seemed to erupt from her at the oddest moments. It was when she first looked at him, really looked at him, that he felt she wasn't all there. At times she seemed to look straight through him. Other times she would jump when he spoke, as if he were a ghost that had startled her. Then, just sometimes, she would call him by his father's name and his mother would have to remind her that he was Draco, not Lucius. For some reason though, she seemed to seek him out, if only to stare at him intensely.

After breakfast, Draco fled to hide in the library. He reconsidered when he found it occupied by his father and two men he had heard referred to as Rabastan and Rodolphus. Making a quick excuse, he went off to the stables to see if he could go riding. There he found yet another strange man, this one stroking a horse and murmuring softly to it. Draco backed out before he could be spotted.

Returning to his room, he grabbed his broom intending to go flying. He balked when he met up with a man who remarked how long it had been since he'd flown and asked if perhaps he'd like some company. Draco claimed he was just going to polish his broom and ran back to his room, slamming the door and vowing to stay there for the rest of the day.

Draco wasn't stupid. Far from it. He knew that all of them were Death Eaters. What he couldn't understand was how they could be Death Eaters. Weren't they all supposed to be noble, powerful purebloods like his father? Why did they look like half-mad, half-starved vagabonds? They reminded him of animals trying desperately to be convincing humans.

He only hoped they wouldn't stay long.