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.
Notes: At the end of this chapter, you'll notice that Nellie says "mommy" rather than "mummy". Remember, Nellie's an American snake. ;)

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Chapter Twenty:
Halloween was fast approaching and Harry was becoming more and more restless and apprehensive. It never failed. Something bad always happened at Halloween. Even thousands of years into the future when people no longer even remembered Halloween, something bad happened. It was never cataclysmic. No, that was reserved for June. It was more minor, not insurmountable, but still usually life altering.

Things had been going well so far. Too well. Something was bound to ruin it.

Harry had become rather popular with very little effort. He was friendly with everyone and his confidence and intelligence drew people from all houses and years to him. He was top of his class in every subject, but that was to be expected. Hermione was right behind him in the number two spot in everything except for Charms and Herbology. Blaise proudly held the Charms spot and Neville was second in Herbology. Neville and Harry were usually tied in Herbology simply because they never messed up. Whenever Harry did better on a written assignment, Neville would do better in practical work. They bounced back and forth between the number one and two spot, Harry because of his knowledge and experience and Neville because of his affinity for anything flora.

Most of the teachers adored Harry. He was Flitwick's star pupil, Madam Hooch was resolute that he should be allowed to join the Quidditch team no matter his age and McGonagall constantly put her own house behind in points by awarding him a vast amount and praising him incessantly. Harry was certain she was hinting at something, especially when she started going on about how the youngest Transfiguration Master had been a Polish wizard who passed at nineteen, then stared at him pointedly.

Snape, he was surprised to say, was just as bad as her, only less subtle. He had held him back after class one day and said plainly that if Harry didn't pass his Potions Mastery before he was seventeen, he would curse him with something horribly vile and long lasting. Then he shoved two books, a badly stained copy of Moste Potente Potions and a battered copy of Advanced Potion-Making, property of the Halfblood Prince, into his arms and ejected him from the classroom with orders to keep them secret.

Professor Roselli was an interesting amalgam of severity and fairness. She wasn't overtly hostile, but she expected the absolute best out of every student in her class. She had no time for horseplay or fooling around. In each class, they worked hard from beginning to end. She didn't favour any student, but did tend to treat Harry slightly different from the others. He had taken to remaining quiet during her classes because each time he answered a question, she stared at him strangely, as if she knew there was something different about him just from the way he spoke. When answering questions or performing spells, he held back greatly. His answers were short, yet correct. His spells were efficient, but not overly powerful. It wasn't that he was afraid of the woman or what she might know. It was just that she was obviously trained to spot oddities. She knew he was incredibly mature for his age and that he was very powerful. He would have to be careful not to allow her attentiveness to become suspicion.

Draco had received regular letters from his mother, mostly because his father couldn't sit still long enough to write to him, and usually shared them with Harry. Narcissa claimed that she was on the verge of tying her husband to a chair and drugging him just to get a little peace. "Harry this and Harry that!" she had written in her last letter. "Night and day! It's the first thing I hear in the morning and the last thing I hear at night. And the pacing! I swear, we're going to have to replace the carpets from his pacing back and forth over them! Even the house elves are in a tizzy, worried about whatever's got him this way! If this doesn't stop soon, I'm going to owl him to his precious Harry in pieces!"

Harry had sent Lucius a letter after that, asking what was wrong and if he could help. What he got back resembled the smitten, dramatic, flowery prose of a teenage love letter. Lucius missed Harry desperately, but it went beyond that. It seemed that, after the first couple of weeks, Lucius started to become anxious and thoughts of his lord began occupying more and more of his time until he found himself unable to think about anything else. He even went so far as to say that it felt like he was under some kind of spell. It was getting worse as the weeks progressed and he was having trouble restraining himself from rushing out to find Harry, to be with him, despite the fact that he knew exactly where he was and that he was fine.

Obviously, the Consort Bond was affecting him in an unexpected way. Harry promised that he would see him at Christmas, but was wary of leaving the castle lest someone, such as Dumbledore, notice him gone. He then wrote to Remus and asked him to check up on Lucius, getting an affirmative in reply.

It was one week until Halloween when a special edition of the Daily Prophet arrived, along with an urgent letter from Michaels. Claiming the letter to be from his godfathers, he stuck it into his robes to read in private and opened to the front page of the newspaper.

"Dark Mark flies over muggle village!" the paper declared. Harry saw red as he scanned it. A family of muggles had been viciously tortured and killed by a group of Death Eaters. Aurors appeared on the scene to find the family dead, the house aflame and one dead Death Eater on the front lawn.

Frightened whispers filled the Hall as the students and staff learned of the attack. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and locked eyes with Draco. A flick of his head purposely toward the door had the other boy standing and heading out with Blaise, Pansy and Theo in tow. A few moments later, Harry politely excused himself claiming to have forgotten his Herbology book. So focused was he on containing his anger, he didn't notice the curious look Hermione gave him.

Once he exited the doors, he was met by four anxious preteens. Before they could say anything, he motioned them to be silent and drew them into a secret passage.

"I have to go," Harry said urgently as the wall closed back. "I don't have anyone in Ravenclaw, so I need you to cover for me. If anyone asks, say that the last you saw of me, I was complaining of a headache and heading back to Ravenclaw Tower. I'll put an illusion over my bed to make it seem as if I'm sleeping. Hopefully, if any of the boys are sent to check on me, they'll think I'm sick and just leave it at that. Do you think you can handle it?"

They all nodded.

"We're Slytherins," Draco said with a smirk. "I think we can handle lying to a few teachers."

"This is so cool!" Pansy said, bouncing excitedly while clinging to Draco's arm. "Our first mission!"

Harry scowled. "This is not a mission, Pansy. You're not Death Eaters and I don't want you thinking that way. You're children and I hate using you like this. If I had any other option, I would take it."

"We know that, Harry," Draco said, glaring at the girl, then corrected himself. "My lord. Pansy's just being an idiot."

"We don't want to keep you," Blaise interrupted, practical as always. "I'll tell Sprout that you're lying down. She'll probably accept it at face value. You've got Transfiguration after Herbology, right?" Harry nodded. "McGonagall may send someone to check on you when she hears you're sick. I'll see if my brother can get me into Ravenclaw Tower, claim that I want to check on you or something, then I'll tell her you're fine. That way she doesn't send someone herself."

"Smart," Harry replied in approval.

"You didn't do it, did you?" Theo asked as Harry reopened the secret passage in preparation to leave. "You didn't order the attack, right? I mean, it doesn't seem like something you'd do."

Harry smiled. The boy wasn't dense, not by a long shot, but he wasn't quite as quick witted as the others and sometimes needed reassuring that he was right.

"No, I didn't," Harry replied, slipping out after bidding them all farewell and heading to the dorms.

Once there, he set up a tangible illusion on his bed that would respond to questions with a simple, "Headache. Go away." Then, he backed into the darkest corner he could find, slipped into the shadows and headed for home.

-SCENE BREAK-

Remus and Sirius had read of the attack at approximately the same time as their godson and were not surprised when Harry appeared. They knew he couldn't afford to wait. He had to act now. If the attack went unpunished, lower Death Eaters could take it as a sign of approval and assume that they should continue.

"What the hell happened!?" Harry demanded as he emerged from the darkness, his school robes askew and his eyes blazing angrily.

"We don't know," Remus said placatingly. "Rodolphus and Rabastan are, at this moment, skulking around Knockturn Alley, trying to draw whoever was involved out."

Harry gave a small growl and made an impatient gesture toward Sirius. "Arm!"

Sirius immediately complied, yanking up his sleeve and baring his arm. As Harry activated the Mark, Sirius eyed him warily.

Neither Sirius nor Remus had ever seen their godson like this before. They'd seen him annoyed and mildly put out, but never outright angry. Harry had subconsciously released all his glamours to add to his frightening appearance. His upper lip curled in a silent snarl revealing the lengthened, larger fangs that only appeared when a vampire was angry enough to kill. His eyes were red with rage and he'd stopped breathing, a sure sign that he was focused more on his anger than maintaining his human persona.

"Robes!" Harry barked, causing Remus to make a dash to the cloakroom to retrieve their Death Eater robes and masks.

This was not the indulgent, mostly carefree boy who appeased them by playing the role of the loving godson, who played pranks with Sirius and laughed easily and freely. This was the true Harry, a vicious vampire and Dark Lord who did not tolerate disobedience. For the first time, Sirius was afraid of Harry.

It was almost comical how quickly that changed.

Lucius and Narcissa appeared with a pop, the first Death Eaters to respond to the summons. Lucius immediately threw himself at Harry's feet and buried his head in the boy's chest with an elated cry of, "Master!"

All the tension seemed to drain out of Harry's body and a small smile crossed his lips as his hand rose of its own accord and began stroking the blonde hair. "My beloved," he purred, affection softening his crimson gaze.

Harry had not realized until that moment the ache that had begun to take up residence in his heart. He had become so adept at ignoring the feelings of loss brought on by the deaths of his clan, beginning with his son Nicolae in the Second War and ending with Ginny and their only remaining child thousands of years later, that he had not noticed the feelings of longing for his Consort.

He had always felt the ache, for far longer than he could actively recall. It was a constant. Vampires had always been social creatures with strong ties to their family or clan and the loss of any one of them could affect them deeply. The loss of a birth child or a mate often caused the vampire to mourn themselves to death. Ron had done just that, surviving little more than half a century after Hermione's murder.

If he were to be honest with himself, it was these feelings that had driven him to meddle in time. After he lost the last of his clan, yet was unable to die himself, desperation fueled his actions. Desperation to either end his existence or have his family back. Now that he was here, the feelings had left him in peace as bonds were severed and reformed. His family was alive again. Not Ginny, their many children, Ron or any of his nieces and nephews. They weren't his family yet. Now it consisted of Lucius, Remus, Sirius, even Hermione and Malak.

They were all alive and for the first time since he could remember, he had no ache of loss. Only, having suppressed that part of his soul, he had not noticed it. Nor had he noticed when it returned and he began pining for his lovely Consort.

The moment Lucius came into physical contact with him, his rage faded and became controllable once again as the Consort Bond worked to reassure and calm him.

Bending down, he placed a chaste kiss on Lucius' cheek and whispered a thank you in his ear.

With an apologetic smile at his godfathers for his brusqueness, he adjourned them all to the ballroom to await the others.

-SCENE BREAK-

The Lestrange brothers had been discreetly questioning the inhabitants of Knockturn Alley for information on who had been behind the raid, claiming that the Dark Lord wished to reward them and even going so far as to show their Marks and reveal their identities to prove their validity. It was to their immense surprise when they were set upon just outside a second hand robe shop.

They'd just exited when a stunner hit Rodolphus and he collapsed, instantly unconscious. Rabastan had immediately pulled his wand, set up a shield and revived his brother. In that time, one of their attackers had snuck up on them from behind, bypassing the shield which only covered their front, and cast a disarming spell on them both. Their wands had gone flying and Rabastan spun around, slamming his fist into the man's face and knocking him through the store's window.

One of their trio of attackers fled while the other was quickly grabbed by Rodolphus.

"Catch him!" he called to his brother as he physically restrained the struggling man, his partner tearing off down the darkened alley in a desperate bid for freedom.

Rabastan leapt at the second man and dragged him down to the ground, only to be kicked in the face by a heavy boot as the man scrambled back to his feet and resumed fleeing.

Glancing around for his wand, Rabastan spied something even better. With a thought, the rain barrel burst apart, the water rising up into the air and rushing after the escaping man. Defying all conventions of how water should behave, it encircled the man, pressing his arms into his sides and jerking him to a halt. With another thought and a small gesture of his hand, the water froze into an icy restraint. Encased in ice from chin to ankles, the man wavered a moment, swaying comically back and forth, before toppling over with a thud.

Rabastan smirked and went to retrieve the man's wand.

Rodolphus tasted blood as his captive's head was thrown back, impacting his own and breaking his nose. In his moment of disorientation, the man managed to break free and turned his wand on him. The white spots in his vision vanished just as he heard a hasty, "Stupefy!"

The spell hit him squarely in the chest.

Reaching a hand up, he scratched absently where the magic had struck him. He looked at the dumbfounded man in amusement. "Thanks," he said wryly, "It's good to be immune to stunners."

A muted cracking sound could be heard as his broken nose righted itself and the blood ceased to flow. With savage force, he backhanded the astonished man, breaking his jaw and sending him into unconsciousness.

"Now we're even."

Ignoring the frightened witches and wizards who had witnessed the entire scene, the two men gathered up their attackers in a pile. A hag scuttled forward and handed them their wands before retreating to the sidelines. With a nod to the woman, Rabastan drew up his sleeve, his Mark clearly visible to all watching, and grabbed a handful of two of the men's robes as his brother grabbed the other. They placed their fingers to their Marks and were gone, taking their attackers with them.

-SCENE BREAK-

All had arrived save the Lestranges and Harry was getting impatient. He sat in a conjured black leather chair in his darkened ballroom. Sirius leaned on the back boredly, one arm across it with his head propped up in the other while Remus stood at his side. Narcissa, Dolohov, Nott, Rookwood, the Parkinsons, Michaels and Adeline stood before him, waiting for the last two of their number. Lucius sat at his feet with his head against Harry's leg, his presence helping to soothe the anger roiling within the young lord.

The crinkle of parchment against his chest reminded him of the letter he'd received from Michaels. It was a hastily written report about the attack giving him all the details the Aurors had at the time. The only thing it told him that he didn't already know was that the Death Eater who'd been found at the scene had died of a gunshot wound to the thigh. It had severed the femoral artery and he'd bled out quickly, unable to apparate and left behind by his companions. It wasn't clear yet who he was, but scans of his corpse had showed his Mark to be the original one. Therefore, he was relatively unimportant to both sides.

A pop signaled the arrival of the Lestrange brothers and Harry looked up just as they fell to the floor in a heap. Amused, he watched as they quickly regained their feet and their dignity after tripping over their prisoners. Three unmoving forms lay on the floor and Harry raised an eyebrow at them, silently asking for an explanation.

Both men fell to their knees and bowed their heads respectfully.

"My lord," Rodolphus began, "these three attacked us just before we received your summons. We haven't had a chance to question them, but we thought it best to bring them with us. It's likely they were involved in the attack on the muggles."

Harry nodded. He could feel the faint pulse of Voldemort's Mark intertwined with their own magic, its oily taint twisting around their essence and permeating the air with its foulness.

"They're injured," Harry said, well able to smell the blood on them.

"They put up quite a fight," Rabastan returned. "They managed to disarm us and, were it not for your training, my lord, they may have gotten away. Two were knocked out physically and the third is just stunned, though a bit waterlogged after I thawed him out."

"Remus," Harry said, turning his head to look at the man, "tend to them please? I would prefer it if they didn't die before I decide to kill them for their transgressions."

Remus quickly went to work healing their wounds, the most serious of which was a cracked rib, then took the liberty of binding them with ropes.

One began to stir almost immediately and Harry motioned everyone to their places. Rabastan and Rodolphus quickly donned their masks and stood guard over the three men as Sirius and Remus stood to each side of Harry's chair. Lucius, after a reassuringly permissive pat to the shoulder, remained where he was, straightening only slightly to regain his imposing air, despite his seat on the floor. The others kneeled before him with heads bowed, certain that this would include more pomp than usual in an effort to intimidate the three errant Death Eaters.

Harry's crimson eyes glowed faintly with his power as he glowered at the three men. The moment they were all awake and looking confusedly in his direction, he pointed Voldemort's wand at them and murmured, "Crucio."

The three men screamed, their cries growing louder and higher in pitch the longer it went on, as they writhed in excruciating pain on the floor, shards of white hot fury lancing up their spines and arcing out across their bodies.

Finally, it stopped and Harry lowered the wand.

"On your knees," he hissed menacingly, causing them to automatically struggle into an upright position, debasing themselves further by leaning forward until their heads touched the floor.

"You will tell me," he began in a voice of quiet anger, "exactly what you were thinking by acting without orders. Indeed, all attacks not sanctioned by me are expressly forbidden under penalty of death. Speak!"

"M-my lord," one began in trembling voice, having no doubt that the child before them was none other than the Dark Lord. "We just wanted-"

"My attention?" Harry interrupted with a sneer. "Well, congratulations. You've got it." He chuckled and the three shivered at the dark delectation in that sound. "Why did you attack my servants?"

"We- we were scared, my lord," another answered. "The Dark Lord does not reward disobedience."

"Please, my lord!" the last cried out, lunging forward and attempting to kiss the hem of Harry's robe. "Please do not punish us! We were drunk! We didn't mean to disobey!"

With a flick of his hand, Lucius threw the man backwards. "You will not touch my lord, cretin."

Harry let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a frustrated growl.

"I don't have time for this," he said, rising to his feet. "Were there any that participated in the attack other than yourselves and the dead man?"

"No, my lord. Just us."

"Very well. You three shall be a message to the Ministry and the magical world at large. Rodolphus. Rabastan." The brothers quickly stood at attention. "Torture them however you see fit, but make sure it's all detectable after death. Rend their bodies and send them through the Ministry's floo in pieces. I'll give you a letter to send with them. Whether for treachery or disobedience, perhaps this will be the last example I have to make of my people."

The men's cries of abject horror and protestation were quickly silenced by twin beams of red light from the brother's wands.

-SCENE BREAK-

The full moon was in two days and Dumbledore was silently gloating. Harry Potter had apparently taken to his bed and had missed every class and meal that day. The youngest Zabini boy had been to check on him and assured everyone, including a fretting Poppy Pomfrey, that he just needed rest. While the boy was a Slytherin, Dumbledore was inclined to believe him. He was very quiet, attentive to his studies and had made friends in Gryffindor. More of a Ravenclaw like the rest of his family than a Slytherin.

So, Dumbledore was left with a satisfying feeling of I'm-right-you're-wrong. The approaching full moon and a sick boy with a werewolf guardian combined to make only one thing. A pawn. He would have a chat with Harry very soon. He would offer his support, his protection, if only to ingratiate the boy to him.

It was with no small amount of surprise that he found the boy at breakfast the next morning, hale and hearty and chatting with his friends as normal.

-SCENE BREAK-

Francis Roselli was a cold woman. She had to be to survive.

Her mother had gotten pregnant at a young age. Unmarried and beholden to a muggle, her parents had given her an ultimatum. Forget the man, abort the child and undergo ritual purification or no longer be a Malfoy. She never even gave them an answer, just up and left never to be seen in the magical world again.

Six years later she was a widow and never the same again.

She grew cold and distant from her own children, falling reflexively back into her pureblood persona. Though not cruel, she was a domineering woman and a severe task mistress.

Francis had been the model daughter to such a woman. She was just as cold as her mother, excelled in everything she attempted and her sharp tongue could cut the proudest wizard down to size in a heartbeat. There was only one person who could melt her icy demeanor and that was her younger brother. Four years her junior, she had practically raised the young man. She'd shown him love and kindness when there was none to be found in their mother and she kept the rebellious boy from the iron punishment he would have received for his misadventures. She'd learned to be ever alert, both through deliberate training and in an effort to stay one step ahead of him.

It was these skills of observation, carefully honed, that allowed her to pick up on the "not quite right" that was Harry Potter.

She wasn't quite sure what he was, but she was absolutely certain what he was not. The boy was far too intelligent, mature and powerful for a child of eleven. She'd seen something similar a few years back in Peru. A young girl, no more than seven, who had been born with the genetic memory of her parents. An anomaly, she was an adult in all but body. There had never been anything like the young witch before and it was thought to have been caused by a trace amount of Sphinx blood becoming active, as a Sphinx passed their knowledge onto their children through much the same process.

Of course, there was no Sphinx blood in the Potter boy. His mother was muggleborn and the only creature blood in his father's family was vampire.

She didn't know what this "not right" was or how it had come about, but she would keep an eye on him. He could be a dangerous foe, or a powerful ally.

-SCENE BREAK-

Halloween came quickly and Harry was on edge. That morning the Daily Prophet had reported the remaining three Death Eaters responsible for the attack on the muggles had turned up at the Ministry dead and with a note pinned to one's chest, from the hand of the Dark Lord himself.

"It has become clear," the paper read, "that the murder of the muggles was in no way ordered by You-Know-Who. The letter stated that the four Death Eaters acted, not just without orders, but against them, as he had declared months earlier that no attacks were to take place without his direct authorization. It went on to say that this war will not include muggles in any way and the only viable targets are members of the magical government and those who set themselves against him. Strangely enough, You-Know-Who seems to have shifted his focus during his years in exile. The letter claims that he seeks to stop all integration between magical and non-magical, including marriage between wizards and muggles, and the preservation of magic. Yet, nowhere did it mention a desire to see all muggles eradicated."

The article was surprisingly concise and unbiased, reporting only the facts. Of course, it could have been the threat he'd included in his letter that any distortion of the facts would result in some very nasty consequences for all involved.

Michaels had sent him a copy of the official report on the cause of death for the three men. They'd been tortured, both magically and with a more hands-on approach, and eventually suffered the Killing Curse, though by then it would have been welcome.

The letter he'd sent, now known as the Dark Lord's Missive, had caused many in the magical community to rethink their positions. Many of the purebloods who'd formerly stood firmly on the side of the Ministry had done so only because they did not believe in the wholesale slaughter of muggles, muggleborns or anyone who refused to join. Now, they had become torn. Most purebloods, even those who liked muggles, did not believe in interbreeding with them. With the cessation of the terrorist actions of Voldemort, they found that they would not necessarily be adverse to the changes in policy the Dark Lord sought. He'd even received word from the goblins that Bill Weasley had been asking questions of their loyalties and insinuating that perhaps he had services to offer the Dark Lord. That particular man knew, better than most, the dangers of lying to goblins and would not dare risk it.

Harry planned to visit the goblins and get their opinion on Bill during his next nighttime excursion to visit Lucius. As to that, he'd decided that it was better to make a quick trip once a week to visit his Consort rather than let the bond drive them to distraction. According to Remus, the Consort Bond was almost synonymous with a Mate Bond. It had only been given another name to make having two bonded mates, a spouse and a consort, appropriate. Like any new Mate Bond, more than a week apart would impel them to seek each other out. After two weeks, it would be virtually impossible to think of anything else. After a month, they would likely have to be restrained to prevent them from rushing off to wherever the other was. However, after two months, the impetus would begin to subside and after three months it would leave them lonely, but otherwise unaffected. It would subside over time to allow them more time apart, but it would take years before that happened.

Remus had gone through the same thing when Sirius had been arrested. He'd had to be confined and sedated for nearly four months before the effects had started to lessen. He claimed it was the only time he had ever been glad for the Werewolf Control division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. One of its more beneficent services to werewolves was an option to keep them contained and prevent them from harming themselves or others after the death of, or separation from, their mate. Without it, many werewolves killed themselves in their grief.

Though Harry was able to suppress the effects to an extent, now that he was aware of it, it effected him as it did Lucius. In order to head it off, he visited Lucius every Wednesday night. It was easy enough to sneak off after his dorm mates fell into bed after their midnight astronomy lesson. They were all too exhausted to notice his absence and Fawkes would perch over Dumbledore's bed all night to make sure he stayed there. At one o'clock, Harry would appear in Lucius' bedroom and slip into bed without waking him. The next morning he would be gone before Lucius awoke, leaving only a single blood red carnation on the side table to show he'd been. Harry had at first thought that leaving flowers for the man was corny and unoriginal, but he needed to let him know that he'd been there without disturbing his sleep and it seemed the best way other than a note. The few hours of physical contact was enough to satisfy the bond for another week and they were both able to concentrate on other things. He chose the red carnation because it symbolized great yearning for someone who was missing from his daily life, and because he was a sappy romantic at heart. Harry thought his life was beginning to resemble a muggle vampire romance novel. The vampire visits his love in the night as if a dream and only a red flower on the pillow is testament to his existence at the waking dawn.

"Harry, are you even paying any attention to me?"

Harry jerked himself out of his thoughts to find Hermione staring at him pointedly.

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile. "My mind must have wandered. What were you saying?"

The girl rolled her eyes dramatically and tossed a throw pillow at him. "I was asking if you were finished with your Defense homework. Although, judging by that huge ink puddle that you've got your elbow in, even if you were done, you're going to have to do it all over again."

Looking down, Harry discovered that he did indeed have his elbow planted in a large pool of ink that had dripped from his quill which had been poised over the parchment for the past half hour. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed another piece of parchment, wiped it off his skin and dabbed at the ruined assignment. For a moment, he'd been so far away from school, homework and the life of a preteen wizard that he'd nearly forgotten himself.

"I wish I had skin like yours," Hermione said wistfully. At Harry's raised eyebrow, she continued. "Well, I mean, look at it. The ink just wipes right off! If I'd done that, I'd have an unattractive black stain on my arm for days. But no, not you. I bet you won't even have to battle pimples when you get older!" She then proceeded to gaze at his arm in fascination, the longing for perfect skin clear in her eyes.

Uncomfortable with her attention to his uniqueness, he started gathering his books into his bag. "Well, are you finished with your homework? I suppose it's about time to go down to the feast."

This proved sufficient to distract her. "Oh but, you're not done. I'll wait with you if you want to finish it first."

"Nah," he replied, standing and heading to his dorm. "It's not due until Monday. I'll finish it later."

This statement caused several of the Ravenclaws in the common room to look at him funny, as if they'd never before heard such words spoken by one of their own. Leaving Hermione to finish gathering up her things, he dumped his own onto his bed and, seeing as the room was empty, grabbed a vial from under his pillow and downed the contents. While he only needed blood once every two weeks or so, which was happily provided by the house elves, he preferred to take one ounce before dinner. The heavy Hogwarts food, while ideal for growing witches and wizards, tended to wreak havoc on his digestive system and sometimes caused him to become nauseated. The preemptive draught of blood helped his system break down the greasy, sweet food much quicker.

'Where is puppy going?' hissed a voice from under his blankets, a small triangular head peeking out.

'The Halloween feast,' he replied simply.

Those three words were enough to make the snake to shoot out of the blankets and over to the side of the bed.

'Nellie wants to go!'

Harry glared. 'No. It will be crowded with hundreds of enthusiastic school children. There's too great a risk of someone bumping me and feeling you. Or squashing you. You wouldn't want that, now would you?'

'Nellie wants to GO!' she demanded petulantly.

Harry easily ignored her childish pleas, closed the curtains around his bed to keep her hidden and left.

Nellie pouted.

-SCENE BREAK-

Severus sat at the staff table, a scowl on his face as he looked out over the sea of happy children stuffing their faces with junk. They were chattering loudly, laughing and smiling, partaking in the various desserts laid out before them. It was nothing short of controlled chaos.

That wasn't what had him in a snit though. Oh no. The children could have their junk food and happiness for all he cared. What really vexed him was-

"Won't you try a cinnamon bun, Severus?"

"No, thank you."

"Oh, but these toffees are divine!"

"I'm sure they are."

"The apple pie is so sweet! The whipped cream so light and fluffy!"

"I'm happy for you. Really. I am."

"How about some trifle? Surely you can't turn that down?"

"I can and I will."

"Come now, Severus! You must have some sweets at Halloween!"

Severus glared at the headmaster with all the venom he could muster, his cruel black eyes boring into the older man's twinkling blue ones without mercy, and growled, "Get stuffed."

"Well, that was hardly polite," the man responded, seeming only mildly put out at the cantankerous attitude presented to him.

"I don't believe he was going for polite, Albus," Minerva said from his other side. "Perhaps you should just stop trying to force sweets on him. You know they don't agree with him. Just eat your desserts and leave him be."

Bless that woman. She had the stubbornness of a Gryffindor and an acid tongue worthy of the most vicious of Slytherins. And she was on his side. Severus never thought he'd be so glad to have a Gryffindor around, but the way she ran interference with Dumbledore, keeping him from just up and offing the man in a fit of rage, was nothing short of a work of art.

"Nonsense, Minerva! Surely it's not all that bad!"

Apparently he'd forgotten last Christmas when he'd forced an assortment of cakes and candies on him and Severus had ended up throwing it all up and killing Mrs. Norris in a brief bout of bloodlust.

He felt a headache coming on.

Rising from his seat, Severus turned away from the table with a parting, "I'm going to murder something cute and fuzzy, drain it of all blood and hang its carcass outside the Gryffindor common room."

"Severus!" Minerva exclaimed, causing him to pause and look back. With a small smile, she murmured softly, "Hufflepuff, if you please."

He smirked at her evilly and walked off, ignoring Trelawney's cry of "Beware a dark-haired man!" and headed for his dungeons.

-SCENE BREAK-

Hearing the woman's exclamation, Harry looked up at the head table to see Snape leaving, McGonagall scowling at her plate, Dumbledore twinkling happily and poor Professor Sprout looking very harassed as Trelawney read her palm.

Chuckling, he turned back to his conversation with Padma and Hermione.

He'd managed to relax about the time dessert arrived having convinced himself that nothing was going to happen. Nothing had happened the past ten years on Halloween and it was not going to start happening again now. There was just no way. He had changed many things and this was just another one.

Besides, Hermione was getting suspicious. She'd noticed that he'd been distracted and anxious all day and had finally asked him if it was because Halloween was the anniversary of his parents' deaths. He'd just made a noncommittal sound, shrugged and changed the subject, but he assumed she had taken it as an affirmative. She'd stopped looking at him suspiciously and was now trying to explain just what a dentist was to Padma, what it was her parents did and why she was not usually allowed to eat all of these sweets at home.

-SCENE BREAK-

A serpentine shadow slithered though a dark corridor of the dungeons.

Nellie was fuming. Her puppy had abandoned her to go eat junk, which he did NOT need, with his little mortal friends. He'd brushed her off, ignored her demands and just left her there!

So, she decided to ignore his demands, just like he'd done hers.

She was now on her way to the Great Hall, which she was certain was where the feast would be. She wasn't exactly sure where the Great Hall was, having only been there while riding in her puppy's shirt, but she knew it was in a general down direction. Though, maybe it wasn't this far down. It was getting chilly and the Great Hall was usually pretty warm.

'Stupid puppy,' she hissed to herself irritably, turning around to head back the way she came. 'He should know better. He needs his Nellie. What'll he do without Nellie there? He'll be lost! Lost without her!'

A loud thud caused the floor to vibrate and she whipped her head around in every direction, expecting to see one of those noisy human children coming toward her. However, there was nothing. Flicking out her tongue, she caught a strange scent in the air just as another thump sounded, closer than the last, making the floor shake even harder. Tasting the air once more, she attempted to identify the scent.

It was nothing short of foul, like rotten cheese and a week old decaying rat and that Kevin boy's dirty socks that had been under his bed since the first week of school. All mixed together and topped off with a nice steaming pile of fecal matter. Except worse.

The rhythmic pounding came closer until a large dark shape edged around the corner and into the corridor where she lay.

'Holy mother of..! How!? What the-!? Holy sh-! Oh, sweet Salazar's mommy!'

She was suddenly possessed with the instinctive desire to coil with head hidden and writhe back and forth in a violent death scene at the enormous troll that came lumbering down the hall toward her. Managing to restrain this deeply ingrained anti predator tactic, she shot off down the hall utilizing all the speed that came with being a Racer. Unfortunately, the troll tripped over its massive feet and its body came crashing down at her faster than she could move.

Seeing that she was about to become a Nellie pancake, she hissed loudly and a bit hysterically, 'Mega magic mojo, SAVE ME!'

Seconds later, she was airborne and flying through the castle towards safety.

-SCENE BREAK-

The feast had ended nearly an hour ago and Harry and Hermione were the only ones still up. Hermione dozed in an armchair as Harry rewrote the essay she'd refused to let him put off.

He'd tried to get her to go on to bed, but she would not be persuaded. She had made it her duty to see that all those in their year had their work completed and she would not go to bed until he was done. He was just about to wake her and tell her he was finished when he heard an agitated hissing at the portrait.

'Open-open-open!'

'Nellie?' he wondered. 'How did she get out there?'

The portrait flew open and a blue blur threw itself at his face, wings beating at his ears as the snake hovered at eye level.

'Puppy-puppy-puppy-puppy-puppy-puppy-puppy!' she chanted frantically.

'Nellie!?' he asked in wonder, staring at the black feathered wings of the flying snake in surprise. 'What the hell happened to you?'

'Puppy-puppy-puppy-puppy-puppy!' she continued in sheer panic.

'When did you sprout wings?' Harry asked, more concerned with the strange change than with the ramblings of the crazed snake. 'What kind of snake has wings? And why didn't you tell me about this? You didn't eat anything you found on the floor, did you? Because if you did, I swear-!'

'PUPPY!' she shouted wildly, ending his scolding.

'What?' he asked shortly, affecting an annoyed pose with a hand on his hip and head cocked to the side.

Taking several large breaths, Nellie said quite clearly, growing more and more panicked towards the end, 'There is a huge . freaking . TROLL out there!!'

---

A/N: There's a Curse of Fate forum now. You can go there and ask questions or yell at me to update for everyone to see! It's easier for me than answering the same question a million times in PMs.

www.fanfiction.net/ ft/392641/31261/1/