Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Summary: After a bout of magic that leaves Dudley paralyzed, four-year-old Harry Potter is left for dead in London by his uncle. Fortunately, he was found and rescued. Unfortunately, he was found and rescued by a gang of vampires. What happens when the saviour of the wizarding world is raised by creatures of the night?

Warnings: Violence, blood, death, vampires, perhaps some slash.

A/N: Here is a new fic and my first vampire fic!  I'm so excited. Anyway, I have not planned any pairings for Harry yet because, well, mostly because he's too young right now but I might later on and if I do, it just might be slash. Also, since this is a vampire fic, there will be violence and there might be some language.

Oh yes, and I apologise for the lame title… but I couldn't think of anything! Hm… and I'm writing these chapters in advance so I should update about once a week.

Anyway, I hope you like this! Enjoy! Remember to review afterwards!

Siri

11.16.06

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Zayn Callunde: Saviour or Traitor

Chapter 1

The End of an Era

"Boy! You sit your ungrateful self down right there and don't move," a heavyset man snarled at his nephew, who's wide, emerald eyes were glistening with the sheen of tears. Even so, he knew not to answer so he just sat there, watching his cousin, Dudley, clamber onto the playground set with his parents carefully watching his every move. In the little boy's mind, he still had a hope that his relatives would let him play and while he did, they would diligently watch over him as they did Dudley so as to make sure he didn't slip and fall.

Deep in his heart, though, he knew it wasn't true. He didn't know what he did but the fact was that his only living relatives hated him with every fiber of their being as was apparent ever since he lived there. As he watched his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia try to get Dudley onto the swing even with his wide girth, Harry's tears overflowed and they fell in streams down his cheeks. By this point, he was in despair. He didn't know why they insisted on bringing him to the park when all they would let him do was sit by the car and watch the family have fun. At this time, his aunt and uncle were sitting on a bench conversing, not too far from their beloved son.

In a fit of determination, he scrambled to his feet and made his way to the swing next to his cousin so he could try it out as well. He had never played on a swing set before and it looked so fun! After a few failed attempts to mount the seat, he succeeded, his cheeks flushed with the effort it took. Sparing a quick glance at his aunt and uncle only to find them deeply immersed in whatever they were talking about, he gave a sad sigh as he slumped in the swing. Remembering how other people he had watched swing, he tried to reciprocate and he eventually got the swing to move a foot forward and back and for the first time in his life, he played on the swing set and a smile spread across his face. Unfortunately, the movement of Harry's swing caught the attention of Dudley – and he was not happy.

"Get off!"

Harry shook his head vigourously, his smile slipped off. "No!" Dudley narrowed his little eyes.

"Get off!"

"No!"

With a sense of impending doom, Harry watched his cousin do the one thing that would make this otherwise joyful occasion worse.

"Mummy! Daddy! Boy won't move," the large boy wailed. In what seemed like a second, his parents were there, glaring at their nephew. His mother turned towards him and started to comfort him, while his father stepped menacingly in Harry's direction.

"What is your problem, boy!" he spat out, spittle landing on Harry's face, his eyes wide with horror. "Are you so stupid you can't even follow a simple order? Didn't I tell you to sit down and stay there?!"

"Ye—" Before the boy could finish, his uncle clamped a meaty hand around his nephew's thin arm and proceeded to drag him over to the car. At the tight pressure on his arm, Harry cried out in pain.

"Uncle! Let go, let go, let go! Hurts! It hurts!" Harry screamed. For all his effort, his uncle did let go, but what happened afterwards was far from what he wanted.

SMACK!

The force of the blow knocked Harry to the ground, a small hand at his stinging, red cheek. A few tears escaped.

"You think crying will do anything?" his uncle sneered. "You deserve this! It was Dudley's swing. No manners you stupid, selfish boy! Just got right on, eh?" Uncle Vernon leaned closer. "This means no food for a week!" With that, he stomped back to his precious Dudley, leaving Harry sniffling on the ground, a bruise-shaped handprint already starting to form.

As he sat there dejectedly for the second time in a day, rubbing his stinging face, he watched Dudley play on the swing again. As if he could sense Harry staring at him, he gave an evil grin and swung higher and higher with him father's help. At that scene, Harry's anger grew.

I want to play! Why can't I? There is one next to him!

The Dursley family remained oblivious to him as Harry's thoughts progressed.

So mean. Why Uncle not let me play? I do nothing!

Unseen and unnoticed, a wind began to blow across the park and a few stray leaves were swept in the breeze.

Dudley no deserve!

By this time, the tree tops were rustling and the birds were flying away from the park in a flurry of feathers. Only Aunt Petunia seemed to see something was amiss and as she glanced over at her nephew, she immediately understood. She called out to her husband in a hurry.

"Vernon! The boy! He's doing his freaky business!"

I no freak!

As the wind grew stronger, Vernon Dursley narrowed his piggy eyes at his nephew and he turned to his son to try and stop his ascent—

My swing!

But it was too late for with the last thought, a leg of the swing set snapped and Dudley was sent tumbling to the ground from six feet up and he landed with a loud crunch on his back. Immediately afterwards, the wind stopped howling and everything was silent. A second later, a cry was heard as Petunia collapsed next to the still body of her son.

"Dudley! Dudley," she wailed.

Harry was in shock. There was no way he could have done that, but then he was hauled up by the arm. Harry looked up to see a face that sported an unhealthy purple colour glaring right at him. His uncle had a pulsing vein on his forehead and his nostrils were flaring. Harry gulped.

"You." His uncle Vernon started in a low, dangerous voice, and he punctuated the accusing word with a punch to the boy's stomach. Harry would have fallen to the ground in pain if not for the hand still keeping him up. "How dare you do that to Dudley!" This time he let Harry go and kicked him hard, Harry curled up on the ground, coughing as he struggled to breathe around the piercing pain. "I have kept you under my roof for far too long! We're going on a trip that you won't be coming back from!" Harry looked up at his uncle, terribly frightened, as his uncle turned towards his wife. "Pet! I'll be back. I'm taking Potter!"

His wife gave a nod, her eyes red but when she gazed upon her nephew, they hardened in pure hatred. For the past three years that they had kept Harry Potter, she always pleaded that Vernon not give him away. Now, she could care less. The little freak had hurt her Dudley and nothing would change her mind now!

Vernon gripped Harry's shoulder and pulled him to the car. "Get in!"

Harry winced at the lingering pain in his shoulder as he limped to the door and got in as fast as he could. As he slammed the door shut with both hands, the car pulled out of the parking lot with a screech. The trip was silent but you could feel the tension in the air as Vernon was trying his hardest not to strangle his nephew then and there and Harry tried not to pass out as he was driven to his doom. Several hours later, his uncle stopped the car and got out and Harry shut his eyes, his hands clenched into tight fists. The door clicked ominously open and his uncle dragged Harry out of the car and shortly cried out in pain when his shins connected with the curb.

"Lazy, good-for-nothing!" Uncle Vernon muttered, and his hand tightened its grip and he continued to pull his nephew into a dark alley where he dropped him with as small 'oomph' emitting from the boy. Harry struggled to stand up but quickly abandoned the idea when his uncle kicked him in his belly once more. "You deserved to die," his uncle snarled before Harry was given the worst beating that he ever remembered in his short, tragic life.

The next fifteen minutes were broken with the sound of pained cries and the noise of flesh against flesh and the occasional crack of a bone breaking. When the large man was done with what he thought was well-deserved but far from enough, he gave the limp boy one last kick to the chest that gave a loud snap and sent the boy slamming against the wall leaving a bloody spot, he left.

After the boy slid to the ground, his body lay still in a pool of blood that grew with each rattling breath, a stream of the precious liquid escaping through his mouth.

IOI

"Hey! Xira! Xiratra," a feminine voice was heard through the night.

"Vae! Ravaena," a voice called back, mimicking the former voice.

Four tall figures were seen gliding down the deserted street. All of them appeared to be normal at first glance but if you looked at them a bit closer, you could spot the glittering eyes, even with no visible source of light nearby, the sharp nails, the unnatural aura that surrounded them, and the canine teeth that were slightly longer than normal.

They were vampires.

A young woman with black hair and dark blue eyes shook her head exasperatedly, making her straight hair move in shining, tantalizing waves across her back. "Funny, Xira. After two hundred sixty-two—"

"Two hundred sixty-three!"

"—years, that's all you've got for me?" Ravaena continued, ignoring the interruption. Xiratra pouted.

"I'm hungry! You can't fault me when I'm hungry!" Xiratra turned over to a tall man with dark brown hair and dark, intense eyes. "Lirovev! Help me out here!" The man shook his head and smiled.

"Sorry, no can do, Zir." She woman turned her large, pleading eyes to the last member of their group.

"Edarin?"

The said man cleared his throat and glanced around, trying to look for something to distract the vampire with. He felt no need to be included in another one of her pointless arguments.

"Edarin!"

"Uh…"

"Edarin!"

"There's blood near here."

Xiratra growled. "Quit trying to change the subject! You're bad at it, anyway! There is no—"

"No, really. I smell blood." As if to make a point, Edarin sniffed the air audibly. After a minute, everyone turned towards Lirovev. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Lets see who it is," he said before he headed towards a narrow alleyway. Ravaena placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Shouldn't we alert the others?"

"No." Lirovev shook his head. "This one's young."

Ravaena looked sad at that but followed her leader and mate, with Edarin and Xiratra close behind.