Harry Potter and the Vampire Clan Saleio

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This story takes place before the last two books in the series; therefore consider them nonexistent and the story AU. For the most part, Harry is away from Hogwarts and can be a bit out of character from typical cannon. Also, this story is un-beta'd, so if you come across some errors that would be why, I do try to catch what I can when I do my own editing. Lastly, there are several warnings attached to this story, so check them out below. As always, I love constructive reviews, but please I don't want to waste my time reading blatantly hurtful ones that I just delete anyway. Hope you enjoy. :)

Author's Warnings: AU/ No HBP or DH/ Mild Slash and Het, and I mean mild, no graphics here/ Violence/ Death/ Strong Language/ Mention of Non-consensual Sex/ And anything else I come up with will be at the top of the relevant chapter.

Author's Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Wizarding World belong to Rowling.

Chapter One – You Are Mine

The setting sun cast a deep red haze over the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive. It was August 31st, just a night before Harry Potter would be free from his summer prison, and he was slouched over his fifth year potions text, diligently trying to memorize every detail, or at least that is how it appeared.

In actuality, Harry's mind was wandering as it often did these days. His thoughts tonight however, weren't following their normal patterns. He wasn't thinking of his deceased godfather, blaming himself for his death. He was long past that stage of grieving. He wasn't ruminating over the prophecy Dumbledore had laid on him at the end of the school year. Trying to find a way around his fate; trying to determine if he actually believed in fate. He'd already thought way too much on that particular subject. He wasn't mulling over the coming school year and all that the Headmaster wanted him to do, Occlumency, extra Defense classes, trying to find a way to understand and defeat his enemy. His mind wasn't even on Voldemort and what the Dark Lord was plotting for his future demise.

Instead, Harry was pondering what the world would be like if he had been born Dudley Dursley instead of Harry Potter. This thought had come upon him suddenly when he'd looked out his bedroom window for any sign of his owl and saw his cousin with his typical group of friends, laughing at some joke or story, carefree, and generally happy. Dudley always got everything he wanted. He was spoiled. He was loved. Dudley was everything Harry wasn't. Really, next to Dudley, Harry was nothing. A scrap of a boy who was loved by only a few, worshiped or shunned by everyone else. He was popular only because of an accident of circumstance and nothing he actually did. Dudley's friends looked up to Dudley. Harry's friends looked up to the Boy Who Lived. The amount of people Harry was sure really cared for him, Harry, and not the Boy Who Lived, he could just about count on one hand.

Harry supposed he had a few things going for him that Dudley couldn't match up to. He was a fairly good Quidditch player. He was in shape, if only because his life kept him moving. He wasn't terrible academically, even if Hermione was there to help him out quite a bit. He did have everything he needed to survive and always would because of his parents. But when it came to his actual wants, he had nothing. Maybe it was because his wants weren't generally realistic, like every normal person. Was it so much to ask though, to actually get something he wanted and not just something he needed, every once in a while.

Harry shook his wandering thoughts aside, and tried to focused back on his potions book, determined to know this stuff backwards and forwards before classes began. But it wasn't long before Harry's focus wavered again and the words before him blurred as his mind picked up another round of thoughts. This time his thoughts centered on Dumbledore, the man he had once looked at as his mentor. Harry had hoped to be away from his aunt and uncle's house weeks ago. Professor Dumbledore, however, felt it safer for Harry to remain the entire summer after the incident in the Department of Mysteries. He of course didn't inform Harry of this until just a few days ago.

Harry knew Dumbledore was only looking out for his safety, and he most certainly took the threat that Voldemort represented seriously, but he missed his friends. He was bored out of his mind, and he could only take so much of the verbal abuse and insults his so-called family threw at him daily. When he was younger, he could leave the house to get away for a while. Hide in the park, or stay at school longer, but this confinement for his own good was long past starting to wear on him. He wanted to know what was going on in the world, he wanted to know how his friends really were, he wanted…

Harry huffed in annoyance and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. It didn't matter what he wanted. It had never mattered. As much as Harry couldn't wait for school to start again, at the same time, he wished he could just disappear from the Wizarding World entirely. He wouldn't have to worry about what Dumbledore wanted him to do. He wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort or some stupid prophecy. He wouldn't have to worry about someone else dying while rescuing him from his own stupid actions…

Harry closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Simply put, he wouldn't have to worry.

Harry tried once again to focus on the book in front of him, but was distracted suddenly as a tawny barn owl landed on the windowsill of his open window with a letter in its claws. Harry reached over his desk and took the letter, giving the owl a treat from Hedwig's empty cage. His owl had been gone almost five days now and he was concerned about her, worried she wouldn't return in time to leave for school. The barn owl hooted happily and then took off again. Harry watched it go for a moment and then opened the letter. It was from Hermione.

Hello Harry,

I'm sorry I have to say this first, and it's not just from me, but Ron and Ginny as well. Your last letter was a little uncalled for. I know you are upset about not being able to come to the Burrow, and that you have to continue Remedial Potions with Professor Snape again, but please try not to take it out on us. You know we have nothing to do with what Professor Dumbledore decides. Mrs. Weasley really did try and convince Dumbledore to let you come for this last week at least, we all did, but as you know, he insisted it was safer for you to stay where you are.

Harry sighed and put the letter down. The last letter he had written his friends was uncalled for. He'd regretted writing it the moment he'd sent it, but he couldn't take it back. He'd been angry when he'd written it, and blamed his friends for not wanting him there. Again, he hadn't heard much from his friends this summer; a letter every so often, but with nothing substantial in it for fear of it being intercepted. Harry picked Hermione's letter back up and continued reading, resolved to apologize to Ron, Ginny, and her tomorrow on the train. He was glad they were calling him on his attitude. They let him get away with far too much last year.

On to happier things, we went to Diagon Alley today. Mrs. Weasley insisted on buying your things, but I managed to convince her to let us stop by your vault as you asked. I picked up your school supplies for you, but I forgot to ask if you needed new robes. I figured you would have said something if you did, so I didn't get those, but I got an owl order catalog just in case. I got all of your books and restocked your potions supplies, parchments, and quills, and I threw in a new planner. I hope you don't mind, I saw your last one, and well… I'll give them to you on the train tomorrow.

Like Ron and I, you are probably still working on your potions essay; you might as well stop. I finished mine an hour ago, finally. I can't believe I wasn't able to get it done at the beginning of the summer. I'll help you on the train tomorrow. The answer to the essay assignment isn't in any of our old school books; it's in the sixth year text. The assignment is long, but it shouldn't take you the entire trip. It's mostly background information. Ron's still working on his too, he says hello.

I can't wait to see you tomorrow, and do NOT forget to have your OWL scores ready, you have kept them from me long enough! I am glad you did well in Potions, but I want to know what you got for everything else. It's driving me mad not knowing!

No need to respond to this, I'll see you tomorrow at Kings Cross. Ron says don't be late, he'd hate for you to have to arrive by flying car again. I'll kindly remind him that flying his father's car to Hogwarts was his idea. I wonder if that car is still in the forest…

Anyway, have a lovely evening, see you tomorrow,

Love, Hermione (and Ron)

Harry shook his head in amusement. He wished he could be at the Burrow with them, but if his presence meant Death Eater's possibly attacking, he didn't want to put them in any more danger. He missed his friends and they alone were one of the only reasons Harry hadn't fled after hearing the prophecy. That and he couldn't in good conscious leave the Wizarding World to fend off the murderer of his parents, when apparently he was the only one able to stop him.

Harry closed the letter and put it with his others in his already neatly packed trunk, and then returned to his fifth year potions book, again. Harry hadn't gotten the grade to get into Snape's class as he had told Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore had ordered Snape to let him in regardless. Harry could care less about being let into Severus Snape's potions class or not, but as the professor was bowing to Dumbledore's demands, he figured he'd at least put in some effort. Maybe he'd even surprise Snape with how much he'd learned over the summer.

Harry scoffed; he doubted it. The man had been dead set against him since his very first potions class. He couldn't wait for his first Occlumency lesson this semester. It was simply lovely to have Snape privy to his every memory. If he didn't attack his professor in the first lesson, it would be a miracle. And the lecture he knew was coming was going to be hell to sit through without rolling his eyes. Although, he was going to honestly apologize for snooping into Snape's memories. He'd had no right, and knew he was wrong, about that at the very least.

Harry was interrupted from his thoughts by the thumping of his uncle storming up the stairs quite loudly. Harry looked over at his barely functioning clock and cursed his inability to pay attention to his surroundings. It was nearing seven o'clock, which meant the Thurlows and Vernon's new business partner would be arriving any minute. His uncle was probably coming up to warn him against making any noise.

Or not, Harry smiled slightly as Hedwig flew back into his window with a letter attached to her claws. His smile faded. Vernon had probably seen his distinctly colored bird, which of course meant that the neighbors would too. It would only figure that he'd notice Hedwig and not Hermione's owl. Harry quickly grabbed the letter from Hedwig's claws and very nearly stuffed the startled and indignant bird into her cage.

"Sorry," he whispered as he closed her in her cage. He quickly closed his potion's book, leaving the letter in the pages of his book to mark his page and so he wouldn't forget to read the letter later. Harry left his room not a moment later, and intercepted his uncle so he wouldn't come barging into his room like he usually did. His uncle would go ballistic if he saw Harry's magic books lying about in plain sight.

Harry stopped in the hall, pulling his hair back into an elastic so it wouldn't bother his uncle as much; he'd been needing a haircut for a while, but wouldn't let his aunt and her shears anywhere near his head again. "I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon, she's been gone all week, but she's in her cage now and won't go out again tonight," he said as politely as he could manage.

"She bloody better well stay there, boy, or I won't be driving you to the train tomorrow. I don't care what those freaks say; you're in no more danger than any average juvenile delinquent," Vernon spat.

Harry gnashed his teeth together to keep himself from talking back to his uncle. One more night, that was all, one more night and then he'd be on the train, back to where he belonged, and not have to worry about his uncle's insults for an entire school year.

"I don't want to hear one peep from you or that bloody bird tonight. I won't have you messing up this partnership! If your aunt hadn't been bullied into taking you in all those years ago I'd have thrown you to the streets like the trash you are," Vernon hissed and turned to leave.

"I'm not the one who's trash," Harry muttered, a bit too loudly. He snapped his mouth shut and cursed under his breath as his uncle swung back around, his face turning a precarious shade of purple. Why couldn't he hold his tongue? He thought he would have learned that lesson over the last year.

"What did you just say?" Vernon asked in a very dangerous tone.

"Nothing," Harry said hastily, and turned to go back to his room before he got himself in any more trouble.

"You, boy, are just like your entire useless family!" Vernon spat, but Harry ignored him with effort and opened his bedroom door. "I won't be surprised when you turn out like that worthless criminal of a godfather of yours –"

Harry spun back around. "Shut up! Don't you dare talk about Sirius! He was ten times the man you are!" He yelled angrily and fought back his tears. He tightened his fists at this side, forcing himself not to strike his uncle in his anger.

"Don't you yell at me, boy! You're lucky I haven't chucked you out after what you did to Dudley last summer! I should have had you arrested. Dudley hasn't been the same since, and it's all your fault!" Vernon raged.

"Oh please, Dudley's still his happy spoiled rotten self. And it wasn't my fault, I told you, it was the Dementors! If I hadn't used magic –"

"Don't you dare say that word in my house!" Vernon nearly screamed as he backhanded Harry across the face, hard.

Harry staggered back into the wall as he brought his hand up to his split lip and swelling cheek. He felt like he'd just been hit by a hammer. He'd been hit by his uncle before, but never that hard. Harry looked up to his enraged uncle coldly and something snapped in him as he felt his magic flare up around him and then his uncle suddenly wasn't standing there anymore.

Harry blinked in confusion down the hall as all his anger evaporated as quickly as it had come. He crept shakily to the top of the stairs and looked down. His uncle lay at an unnatural angle, unmoving at the bottom of the staircase. He'd heard him hit the floor, he'd heard the crack, but he hadn't seen him move. Harry's confusion suddenly turned to horror as he realized what he had just done and he staggered back against the wall as panic started to take over.

"No," he whispered to himself, swallowing thickly.

The doorbell suddenly rang, sounding ten times louder than it actually was. "Vernon, dear, can you get that?"

Harry heard his aunt move from the kitchen when she didn't get an answer. He quickly pushed off the wall and practically ran to his room. He had to get out of here, he had to get to the Order… he had…

Harry fell to his hands and knees and suddenly threw up what little he had in his stomach on his bedroom floor.

Oh God, he had just killed his uncle!

"Vernon!" Petunia screamed from down stairs, shaking Harry out his catatonia.

Harry grabbed one of Dudley's old shirts from his dirty laundry pile and wiped himself clean. Then he grabbed his wand, and throwing the restriction for underage wizardry to the wind, packed the rest of his belongings into his trunk with a quick incantation.

Harry slammed his trunk shut and picked up Hedwig's cage, and levitated both out the window. He cast a cushioning charm on the ground and followed his belongings. He landed softly in the back yard, cast a lightening charm on his trunk, and grabbed Hedwig's cage. Pulling his trunk behind him, Harry ran from Privet Drive as fast as his legs would carry him.

He was nearly a block away when he heard the sirens. He stopped briefly to look over his shoulder nervously, and then he shakily raised his wand. The Knight Bus banged into existence a moment later and Harry shoved passed Stan Shunpike with his belongings, not bothering to listen to the man's introduction.

In his haste, Harry didn't notice Remus Lupin walk out into the light of a nearby street lamp with a very confused look on his face.

"Ottery St. Catchpoll," Harry muttered as he sat down, keeping his head bowed, hiding his face and most specifically his scar as best he could under the hood of his oversized sweatshirt.

"Sure," Stan said irritably and the bus banged back into movement, nearly causing Harry to topple over his trunk and Hedwig's cage to fall over.

Harry fished into his jeans pocket and was relieved to see he had just a little over what was needed to pay the Knight Bus. He handed it over with shaking hands, without a word, and without looking up. Stan was just about to question him when the bus abruptly came to a stop and two more passengers got on, one of them being a rather smelly hag. Stan seemed to forget all about Harry after that and Harry kept to himself the rest of the shorter than normal trip.

When the bus finally arrived, Harry dragged his trunk off the bus and then just stood on the street corner, staring in the direction he knew the Burrow to be. He stood there until long after the Knight Bus had disappeared and then some. He'd been carefully keeping his mind blank the entire bus ride, but now his panic and shock was subsiding, and what he'd done really settled in.

What was he doing? He'd just run from one of the few safe places he had left, and was he even running to a safer place? What were they going to think of him when he told them what he'd just done? What would they do? Harry felt like he was going to be sick again and swallowed hard against the knot in his dry throat. It didn't matter what they thought, what they did. He had nowhere else to go.

Taking a deep breath, Harry released Hedwig to fly ahead so it would be obvious to the Weasley's that it was him when he arrived unexpected, and then he started the trek to the Burrow on shaky legs. Ten minutes later, Harry nearly cried in relief when he finally saw the Burrow looming unsteadily ahead at the end of the lane. He'd been looking over his shoulder since he'd started walking sure that someone was following him, though he didn't see anyone. He continued to drag his trunk faster.

Harry angrily wiped a tear away as it slid down his cheek, and then nearly dropped his trunk when he tripped over the uneven ground. He stopped where he was, staring at the Burrow. Why was he even crying? He shouldn't be crying. He didn't deserve to cry, not after what he'd just done. He didn't know what he was going to say to them. He hadn't meant to kill his uncle, but he had. It had been an accident, hadn't it? Would they understand that, did he?

Harry righted himself and Hedwig's empty cage and then he sat down heavily on the lane. He clutched the handle of his trunk as if it was the only thing holding him to Earth and put his head in his other hand, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to get his breathing under control. He prayed that when he opened his eyes he'd be at his desk on Privet Drive, that he hadn't killed his uncle, and all of this had been a horrible nightmare.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head. He saw the Burrow in front of him, Mrs. Weasley's silhouette in the lit up kitchen window. He let out a chocked sob and pounded the ground with his shaking fist. Why couldn't he get what he wanted, just this once? Harry looked up to the sky as rain started to fall and lightning lit up the night sky. He let the rain soak his face and hair for a long while and then finally pushed himself back to his feet. He had to face them, there wasn't any other option.

Before Harry could continue on, however, an owl appeared out of the night sky and dropped a letter into his hands before disappearing again. Harry looked at the seal and then tore the letter from the Ministry of Magic in half. He didn't have to open it to know that it was another letter telling him that he was expelled for the use of magic outside of school. He let the letter drop to the ground.

"It's probably just as well," he muttered to himself, and started to drag his trunk again, as he focused on the Burrow in front of him through his dripping fringe. He picked up his pace when he saw Remus move aside the curtain in the kitchen window and then quickly move away from the window when he saw him.

Remus had just opened the door, when Harry was suddenly knocked backwards off his feet, so fast that his breath was forced from his lungs when he hit the ground hard.

"Harry!" Remus shouted with clear fear in his voice.

Harry coughed to catch his breath as he looked around wildly to see what had hit him, but all he saw was darkness. He shook his head dizzily and then pushed himself back up again. He looked around again as he stood, but there was nothing out there. Harry saw Remus scanning the sky as he ran towards him with his wand drawn.

Harry heard a low growl from behind him and before he had the chance to spin around, he was grabbed around his waist and dragged backwards into the woods that bordered the lane. He kicked and punched at his attacker and then abruptly and painfully found himself thrown to the ground. Harry groaned and quickly grabbed for his wand. He'd just gotten it into his hand when it was ripped from his grasp and he was suddenly pinned to the ground with a strong hand around his throat, cutting off his airway. He could hear Remus yelling his name as he tried desperately to take air into his lungs.

Harry's eyes widened in terror as the man – creature – above him growled deeply and stroked down with huge black wings, picking them both up from the ground. Pearl what fangs lengthened and glistened in the lightning flashing through the sky and Harry clawed desperately at the hand cutting off his air and then struggled as he was taken into strong arms and pulled flush against a hard body.

"Relax, this will only hurt for a moment, my son," the creature hissed into his ear.

Harry struggled harder and tried to call out for Remus, but his scream was silenced before it could even leave his throat, as teeth sunk into his neck with a searing pain. Harry's struggles ceased as he felt himself weakening as his blood was drained from him. He fell limp in the other's arms and just before darkness claimed him, he heard in his mind a whispered. "You are mine."

...

Author's Note: To Be Continued…