I do not own Harry Potter or his world, JK Rowling has that honor. I own all that you do not know. I also do not own any songs that are printed at the beginning of each chapter; they belonged to their respective artists. Thantos Bifactor and Kite belong to Anima Celeste.

Wanted: Beta Reader with knowledge of Japanese and/or German grammar

Unholy Purity

Part One: Demon Blood

Chapter Nine: Happy Birthday

Half a Week Before the Winter
Singer
Vanessa Carlton

Half a week before the winter

The chill bites before it comes

And I'm a child of the pleasure

That he brings before he runs

He sits behind a desk of mahogany

He whispers dreams into my ear

Though I've given him his empire

He delivers me my fear

The unicorns are riding high

Powerful in coats of white

I turn to look but burn my eyes

I carry on, I carry . . .

All the weight of empty promise

As I stand swallowed by the light

Flickering above the highway

I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight

The vampires are growing tired

The coats of white all turn to red

My heart burns with desire

I carry on, I carry on

The unicorns are riding high

Powerful in coats of white

We turn to look and burn our eyes

I carry on . . . I carry . . .

The vampires are growing tired

The coats of white all turn to red

My heart burns with desire

I carry on, I carry on

Tepes Manor, London, England

It was nighttime now, the full moon was high in the black sky and the stars flickered all around the orb of the night. Werewolves across the globe were screaming in agony about now as their flesh tore apart to form a lupine monster, though the lycanthrope demons felt nothing but a rush of adrenaline. To one young wizard, he felt nothing but apprehension for the following hours.

Harry was sitting in front of the large window in his bedroom, looking blindly up at the sky with an unfocused gaze. His hands were balled in fists on his kneecaps and he could barely think of anything outside of hazy confusion. What was he supposed to do; in a few hours it was his birthday and it was his last few hours as a human, so people have said.

He shut his eyes and sighed heavily, wishing he could just forget his troubles for a few minutes and just relax like he hadn't done in . . . well, forever it now seemed. His ears drooped at the path his thoughts were taking.

What was it going to be like, with the knowledge that there was an inhuman part of him? A part that was a canine, with claws and fur and fangs? Was the transition going to leave him insane, incapacitated and unable to do or think normally or was he going to be able to stand up and walk away as if nothing happened? Honestly, he didn't know which was worse.

Harry thought back to what Atlanta had said about World Wars and his stomach gave a painful and unwelcome lurch. Did that mean that she had served during World War II, nearly sixty years ago? But she only looked forty, not even maybe, so did that make demons immortal or eternally youthful?

He buried his face in his hands, breathing heavily. "Why can't I have a normal life!" he roared, yelling out to the silent window and empty night sky, "Why, is it some unwritten law!"

Silence, save for his echoes, answered him. He scowled and balled his hands into fists, trying to settle his breathing. He looked absently around the room for a clock of some sorts and narrowed his angry eyes when he found nothing of the sort. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the bedroom door opened and a tall man walked in. Harry recognized the man, even though he had only ever seen a black and white photograph.

Thantos Bifactor, Atlanta's husband and apparently another human-turned-demon, waltzed in casually and turned his amber eyes to the statue-still form of Harry. He was rugged looking and somewhat ominous, with a tangled mess of black hair that was gray at the temple, and there was an unwelcome look to his all black, ancient-looking clothing. He did smile slightly, an expression that was clearly not often used.

"Good evening," he said in a voice near devoid of emotion and accent. Harry glared slightly, not answering, though Thantos didn't seem to expect an answer. "I'm just here to help you tonight, you'll need it." He took the seat at the room's small table and looked intently at Harry with his eerie amber gaze that was so like trying to stare down a hunting dog. "You look pretty weak."

"I'm not weak," Harry replied stubbornly, crossing his arms, "What's going to happen to me? What . . . what will happen?"

Thantos closed his eyes and spoke delicately, crossing his fingers and resting his chin on them. "I will not lie to you; it will be the most painful thing you have felt in your entire life. You will, hopefully, become unconscious for the beginning, and you will be able to sleep for the day after your transition. I will be available to help during the transition and Dame Okami will tend to any lasting wounds, one that wouldn't heal naturally."

Harry swallowed painfully and collapsed into the other chair by the window. Thantos cleared his throat to bring the attention back to himself.

"You might want to take off your clothes; they will be destroyed during the transition otherwise. Especially your pendent," he pointed at Mrs. Potter's ivory lily, which Harry looked at casually. He fingered the jeweled surface carefully and took the necklace off, carefully putting it on the window sill. He didn't talk to his parents much, he didn't know why though, but he still wore the necklace as one of his only mementos he had of his muggle-born mother.

"Will I . . . still remember being human?" he asked softly, taking off his coat and jumping when his gun fell out of the pocket. He had forgotten about it until now and picked it up, looking intently at the raven imprinted on the barrel. It was only his godmother's husband's voice that snapped him back to reality and made him drop the gun on the windowsill as well.

"You will, but it will seem like a dream," now Thantos' voice sounded deeply sorrowful, "I can remember my human family and . . . It is not important . . . You will remember, do not fret."

Harry shivered as he unbuttoned his shirt and cast it asunder. He would take the risk of destroying his jeans (there was no way in hell that he would take them off) but he moved to untie his boots.

"What were you before a demon?" he inquired, dropping his boot carelessly onto the ground, "Your life as a human?"

He didn't catch Thantos' thin, quick second smile though Harry's triangular ears twitched violently as he shivered from the cold.

"I will speak my past later, perhaps while you sleep to keep you calm. It is almost midnight and your transition should begin at any moment." Harry jumped viciously, eyes widening and ears jerking straight up. He had thought he'd had a few hours – that it was only ten o'clock – but he only had mere minutes left with his birth humanity.

He looked at the black-haired lycanthrope and felt himself smile. He didn't know why he smiled; it was a reflex basically, since he had nothing to be cheerful about. Harry closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever pain would be coming in the next few minutes.

The first jab of pain was dull, in his neck and Harry reflexively reached a hand up quickly to it. Something slick coated his fingers instantly and, looking his fingers, found them to be coated in deepest blood, so crimson it was almost blackish. The same blood dribbled down his shoulders and back in thick rivers from the neck wound and he quickly found himself becoming lightheaded from the loss of the ichor.

He slipped into the chair again, focusing on his breathing and nothing else. His vision flickered in and out so that the room and Thantos seemed to wink at him. Thantos stood, his blurry outline moving to stand in the middle of the room and Harry grinned psychotically as he shut his gaze, his blood soaked hands slipping from their grasp on his throat.

"Good-bye humanity," he whispered, voice so weak that he barely heard the line himself. He slumped in the chair, still trying to force himself to breath in and out as it became increasingly difficult to get oxygen into his dying lungs.

Finally, his breath caught in his throat and he felt a dull, dim-set feeling cloud his vision for a long time. It wasn't like unconsciousness or sleep, it was as if Harry had been reduced only to corporeal form and could feel nothing at all. He couldn't even hear his breathing anymore, but he could hear slight voices.

'Take care, my little boy,' whispered a female voice, strongly familiar until he remembered it was Lily's, 'I love you Harry . . . I love you . . .'

'Brace yourself,' said another female voice, this one with a monotone and heavy sorrow in her voice. Khalida's voice, though he could barely recall it as hers.

As soon as her single line of advice had faded from his echoing mind, he could feel feeling returning to his fingers and arms. His vision snapped painfully back into focus, stronger then it had ever been, though it blurred slightly. With shaking, still bloody hands, he removed his glasses and looked around with a stiff neck for Thantos. He felt the demon's rough hand grip his shoulders and looked up slightly.

Thantos' face was blank, completely, though it was forced. His eyes, however, were pain-stricken and fearful. Harry said nothing and merely slipped his glasses atop of the gun at the windowsill.

It hit him like a bludger to the head. Harry winced violently and grabbed his head in pain as pain traced its way through his mussel system, not leaving a single part of his body aching. His arms and legs, especially, stung horribly, and a second painful jab of pain struck his chest, causing him to gasp and spit out a mouthful of ebony blood on the already ruined carpet.

He shivered violently in pain but was kept in his seat by Thantos' steady hands. The agony that had struck his mussel system had come again, burning every inch of skin on his arms and legs and bringing furious tears to his eyes. He wanted to break something, anything, just to get some of the pain out of him and into something else.

Though Harry's vision was clouded by tears of pain, he did manage to see that his hands were shaking badly and convulsing as if he was having a seizure. He balled his hands into fists and screamed in pain, though he could have yelled much louder if he wasn't keeping his teeth clamped down so hard they should have chipped already. His fists, even though he had forced himself to release them from a fist, stayed in that position and the following agony was worse, even, then the torment he had felt when Voldemort had used his body to speak last June.

The bones in his fingers cracked and shifted around beneath his skin, causing their shape to change and Thantos to tighten the grip he had on Harry's shoulders. The wizard screamed again, and in his pain he failed to notice it lacked any sort of human quality to it. He was howling.

Outside the room, the previously sleeping Hermione Granger was trying her hardest to break down the door to Harry's bedroom. She could hear his screams, even down the immense hallway, and they had suddenly become canine cries of pain that made her even more frightened then she already was for her safety.

The door was locked, though, and she couldn't bring herself to go get her wand and blast the damn door to flaming pieces. She herself screamed when a pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her away from the door. She jerked her elbow back and felt it collide with something that swore horribly.

Hermione backed away and looked to see that she had broken the nose of that boy Atlanta and Alucard had yelled out for stealing a musket – Kite, was it? He was much younger looking up close, with a round face and large golden eyes that were currently narrowed as one of his hands held his bleeding nose.

The woman who stood behind Kite was much different then him, with short dark hair and cadaver pale skin that contrasted painfully. Her eyes were sorrowful red, her clothing completely white and spotless but it was her left arm that drew Hermione's attention immediately.

It was made of metal, with claw-like fingers that constantly flexed themselves and looked nothing at all like human fingers. The metal was white as well, with a silvery sheen to it and the woman spoke in a soft, whispering voice of no dialect.

"You cannot see your friend for quite a while."

"Let me in there!" she snarled, "What the hell are you doing to him!"

"We do nothing but aide his transition," added the unnamed woman, though Hermione knew who she was. Kairai Okami, whom Atlanta had spoken so highly of. "The pain is part of it. The pain is needed, and the pain will pass and mend."

Hermione opened her mouth to object but Okami's voice cut over her. "This is the will of She who is above any of us. She will not let your friend die, and She will not let him stay scarred from this. At noon, you may bring him breakfast will I bring healing."

As if her words had solved everything, she turned with much twirling of the skirt she wore. Kite glared darkly at Hermione and raised his middle finger to her, but trotted off after Okami like a dog kept on a leash. Hermione turned back to the door and slumped next to it, feeling completely useless.

Inside, Thantos was trying to pin down the convulsing half-wolf creature that Harry was transforming into. The demon's lupine yellow eyes were mad and alight with rage as it swung a too-large claw at the man's face. Thantos ducked the blow (though he really didn't need to, the aim was that poor) and pressed most of his weight onto Harry's torso, to keep him still as his nose and mouth merged and elongated to form a muzzle containing glistening, pearl-white fangs that could have torn flesh to ribbons in instants.

Harry snarled viciously and snapped his jaws in pain, trying to bite Thantos' hand from the wrist though the reach was too short. Thantos narrowed his eyes darkly and grabbed the throat of his wife's godson. "Almost done!" he said gleefully, though the wolf barely heard anything but a deep whine.

He clawed at the carpet for four fully-formed claws, with bright ivory nails and razor tips, and howled in pain again as dark fur crept across his body, whose bones were still shifting to their correct positions. There were patches of white on Harry's tail and paws, along with the streaks at his head. Thantos breathed heavily as he loosened his grip on the new lycanthrope, who would take Atlanta's title as Chieftain when she retired.

Harry lay without moving, except for his chest that showed he was breathing normally. His human mind was slowly returning to dominant control, numb with pain and the over powering urge to sleep and relax his aching body. He managed to lift his head and look around slightly, ears drooping. He gave a soft whimper before he collapsed and his mind shut down completely.

Sunlight filtered in through the window and cast long shadows in the room. Thantos nursed the deep scratches he'd received and lifted the sleeping form of Harry up onto the bed. Already, he was beginning to take to his original body and though he looked human, he still had the lycanthrope black-blood and certain canine characteristics.

He drew a chair to the side of the bed, and was soon asleep in it. Kairai would wake him when she came, he knew, and if she didn't, Kite certainly would.

Hermione was careful to not spill the tray of food Atlanta had made up for her godson as she carried it up the stairs to Harry's bedroom. Behind her strode Kite, his arms laden down with linen wrappings, while Atlanta and Okami took up the rear.

"I hope he didn't take too big a bit outta Thany," muttered Atlanta, herself holding a pile of clothing, "Makie says he's got one hell o' a strong beserker form."

"How wuld Miz. Makai know?" asked Kite, stumbling over his untied boots, "Cuz she's been in Tokyo fer da last few days, ain't she?" Atlanta rolled her eyes and flicked the back of Kite's head.

"Makie knows everything, ya lil' runt."

Hermione swallowed as she came to the locked door she had tried to force open only a few hours ago. It was slightly ajar now and she could smell the heavy stench of blood waft down the hall. She swallowed a mouthful of hot bile and entered, slipping through the door and looking at it with shock and horrified surprise.

The carpet was soaked in blood so much that it felt like a sponge, the table and one of the chairs smashed to large pieces of blood soaked wood. Thantos was seated at beside in the other chair, and Harry was lying asleep in the bed, his canine ears twitching as he slept. The right side of his body was caked in dried blood and there was a strip of cloth tied around his throat, stained with blood as well.

"Jus' be glad Aly ain't here," said Atlanta, strolling into the room and taking the tray of food from Hermione's frozen hands, "He'd be at dat carpet lickin' up da blood best he could."

"Good Lord . . ." gasped Hermione, moving quickly towards the bed and looking at her best friend's lifeless face, "Is he alright?"

Thantos cracked open an eye and looked at her stonily. His hands were scratched and caked with dried blood as well, and there were two long scratches marring his face as if done by a scalpel.

"He is fine," he replied emptily, getting up so Hermione could take his place. She grabbed Harry's hands and held them tightly, looking intently at his face. Okami moved next to him and brushed strands of his hair away from his sweaty brow, revealing his infamous lightning bolt scar.

"There is no damage that will hurt him for ages," she whispered calmly, untying the piece of cloth around his neck with her metal arm. She revealed the huge gash in his neck, around which fresh black and dried red blood stained the skin.

"Linen and alcohol," she demanded, holding out a hand behind her. Kite fumbled with the load he had in his arms and presented a steel flask and half-unrolled section of linen bandages. She tore off a section of the linen and soaked it in the flask's contents, which smelt so strong it made Hermione's head spin. Okami dabbed the blood away from the cut with a section of clean linen and pressed the soaked rag to his neck. He seized up for a moment but calmed down almost immediately afterwards.

"In bed, two days," said Okami brokenly, "Good food, good company. Keep Alucard away from him, at all costs." She glared especially at Atlanta, narrowing her yellowish eyes. "I mean it."

"Scout's honor," said Atlanta lazily, sitting down at the edge of the bed and looking at Harry's face intently, "Damn scar, it really ain't dat pleasant to look at."

Hermione glared at her. Did Atlanta know how much Harry hated having that scar? How much it pained him? Okami was wrapping bandages around wounded parts of Harry's arm and upper torso, of which there were many.

"Human girl, what ails your friend in mentality?"

"Hm?" asked Hermione, looking up at the demoness intently, "What ails him in mentality?"

"What bothers him," translated Thantos, "Nightmares, thoughts, anything that would hurt him in ways other then physical."

"Lots of things," Hermione confessed after a moment's long pause, "He . . . he can sometimes feel what Voldemort feels and thinks . . ."

"Oh, dat guy," said Kite blankly, "Thought he wuz dead."

"Premonitions, is it?" asked Okami, "Slight psychic power? Intriguing." She turned to Hermione. "They will not trouble him now. This Dark Lord is no demon; there is no connection between a human and a demon. He will not feel thoughts or emotions of a human, no matter how strong the Dark Lord gives off."

She stood and slipped her hands in the pockets of her white coat. "Atlanta, Thantos, get those who would help him feel better. Stranger's words will not help him keep sanity, human words will help him. Human girl, when he awakes, make him eat and dress. I will speak with the Lady. The Lady can direct my next movements." She moved out of the room, Kite following quickly after her.

Hermione looked at Harry's face and saw he was smiling in his sleep. His teeth were fangs once more, the color of his sickly skin. She tightened her grip on his hands.

"Who are his friends, anywho?" asked Atlanta carelessly, "Cuz I don't know anyone 'ere in England who's still alive."

"The Weasleys, Remus Lupin, Tonks and Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione instantly, "Can you get them here?"

"Ol' Remy's still alive?" asked Atlanta eagerly, "Damn, I ain't been keepin' up wit da times. I thought 'em dead fer three years. Sure, Hermione, we can go get Remy fer me lil' wolfhound. Where are dey, anywho?"

". . . You'll need to ask Dumbledore first."

"Damn it," swore Atlanta and Thantos in unison.

Hogwarts Castle, England

Albus Dumbledore rubbed his aching temples with gnarled fingers, trying to soothe the migraine he had. Hedwig, Harry Potter's precious owl, cooed softly from the perch she had on his desk and he looked down at the scrawled note the Gryffindor had written to him almost two days ago.

By now, he had no way of tracking Harry. Any spell he tried ended in ruin and he was told by the Order they had no success with the tracking either. The Ministry was having a field day combined with a minor apocalypse; most of the officials were eager to put Harry Potter on trial for murder yet didn't want to deal with the public's reaction to the trial either.

A part of him felt that it was good that Harry was hidden somewhere, because it meant that Atlanta and Thantos Bifactor could not get to him. He had been horrified that they had gained custody, since it meant that the Wizarding world's savior was now in the hands of two immortal wolf-demons who still kept tally of the Nazis, Italian and Japanese they had killed in World War II. Even though he had taught Atlanta and her brother Zephyr almost twenty years ago, he could not shake off the feeling that he was going to turn Harry into a hangman by sending him to live with those two.

Speaking of the albino lycanthrope, he was surprised to hear her voice echo through his fireplace. He looked up in time to see the woman fall out of an emerald fire, her white hair and skin coated in ash and leather clothing singed slightly from the flame. She stood and brushed herself off, smiling cheerily at the old headmaster of Hogwarts school.

"Hullo Professor," she said, coughing slightly, "Can I sit down?"

"What is it that you came here for Atlanta?" he asked, trying to sound civil and pleased that he had succeeded. Atlanta sat down and brushed ash off of her army boots, reminiscent of the 1930's.

"It's about me godson, Professor," she said, "Harry's birthday's today, ain't it?"

"Yes it is Atlanta. What of it?"

She cleared her throat and smiled kindly, making her crimson eyes glimmer. "Well, he's a demon now, jus' like yers truly. Lycanthrope an' all."

Dumbledore stood straight, eyes blazing and hand reaching for his wand. He didn't even stop to think that Atlanta could not be killed, being of black blood and all, but she continued on hastily, "I ain't done anything, it wuz the Queen o' da Night! She an' his parents, I wuz told, decided on it 'bout two months ago, sos I hear. He's at Tepes Manor in London town, sleepin' an' I wanted to bring some o' his friends ta make 'im feel better, ya know?"

"Atlanta, I was not eager to hand custody of him over to you and your husband," he said coolly, "And I am not eager to let him stay in a vampire's mansion injured and unarmed. I am going to ask that Remus Lupin and Severus Snape bring him to Hogwarts so that I may speak to him and make him see sense."

"See sense o' wot?" she asked stubbornly, standing and crossing her arms, "He ain't gonna be able ta be human, ya know, now dat he's got da Queen's blood in him."

"Even so, I will be able to talk him out of acting like one. Atlanta, he is supposed to save our kind and he cannot do so if he does not have any loyalties left in wizards."

"An' I don't see why he had any in da first place. Ya treat him like a lil' kid an' he ain't one no more. Well, ta me he is, but ta human's he ain't an' I know it." She shook her head. "Professor, have ya ever thought about wot Harry wants in all o' dis?"

Dumbledore paused and sighed deeply and heavily. "Harry is not liable to make his own choices. They is too much riding on what he does and does not do, and the wrong decision can do too much damage."

Atlanta shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair, looking at Dumbledore in disbelief. "I jus' want da best fer my godson. Ya'll want da best fer him to. An' ta get da best fer him, I'll do anything in me power, even if it means draggin' him ta America an' away from all o' ya."

"If you do that, we will have you arrested and sent to Azkaban."

"An' I'll break out." She glared sharply at him, flexing fingers whose nails were elongating into sharp claws. "I ain't Chieftain o' da lycanthropes in title only. I ain't gonna sit 'round an' let my kin get pushed aside an' ignored."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe you should go now Atlanta."

She looked at him and shut her eyes tightly. "He ain't gonna stand fer dis, an' ya'll have ta face an angry First-Born lycanthrope." With that, Atlanta dropped Floo powder into the fireplace's dying flame and vanished without another word.

Tepes Manor, London, England

Harry's eyelids flickered open and his headache came back as a dull echo of the previous pain. His whole body ached and he turned his stiff neck slightly, though the simple movement sent pain down his spine.

"Harry!" He scowled in pain, ears flickering and he turned to see Hermione sitting next to him and holding his hand. He smiled lightly and pushed himself up slightly, rubbing his stiff shoulders. His arms were very sore and covered in linen wrapping, some parts of the wrapping stained with blood.

"Hey Hermione," he said weakly, rubbing his throat. It too was covered in linen, though it was not painfully tight. "Do I . . . Do I look demonic?"

"You look ill," she commented, "And you still have wolf ears and fangs, but you're no different from when you came to my house. How do you feel?"

He cracked his neck and nursed it, wincing slightly. "I ache all over." He caught sight of a tray off food on the bureau not too far away. "And are you going to eat that?"

"It's for you actually." She stood and retrieved the tray, brining it over. There was a plate of ham with eggs, a bowl of soup and a glass of water, which he was grateful for. "Are you okay, I mean . . . really?"

He looked at her, swallowing a mouthful of water and sighing. "I dunno, really. It's like . . . something important I had to do is done."

"I heard your transition last night," she confessed, "You were howling, I heard it."

"Yeah, I was . . ." He caught his reflection in the soup spoon and noticed his eyes were no longer the same ethereal shade of green as his mother's, but golden yellow, piecing and inhuman. The two locks of white hair on either side of his face were still present, as were his ears. "I kept wanting to . . . Instincts, I guess, but I just wanted to kill something, to sink my fangs . . ."

"It's just like animagi." He looked at her and she gave a sort of sheepish smile. "Wizards who turn into carnivorous animals have to be kept away from everything else during their first transformation or else they will kill something and be sent to Azkaban."

"How would you know?" he asked, grinning slightly, "Thinking of becoming one?"

". . . I ordered some books in mid July. I was going to send some to you for your birthday, but . . ."

"I'll help you, best you can. I don't think I can be one," he said, draining the soup bowl, "Do you know how Ron is doing? I remember Ginny said something about him having wings but . . ."

"Nothing more then you know, I'm afraid." Hermione leaned back in her chair and pressed her hand against her head. "I hate not knowing what's going on."

End Chapter Nine: Happy Birthday