Fealion: Ok; I started this story because my friend wanted a one-shot of Voldie/Harry. Obviously I got carried away because this is the first chunk of that so called 'one-shot'.

I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: FEALION DOES NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY EXTENSIONS THERE OF. The only things I own are the story line, Vasya, and whatever other characters I come up with that are not mentioned in the original Harry Potter books. OR her website.

-4-

"BOY!"

The small child flinched as a vase shattered against the door to his room, blinking owlishly as it was wrenched open before the familiar pain of being flung against the opposite wall of the hallway met his senses, a small sneer curling his lips as his uncle bent over to catch his breath from his exertion, a blank mask of apathy on his face by the time the beefy man straightened, only letting out a small whimper as a large fist connected with his delicate cheek.

"How dare you embarrass us FREAK! Do you know who that was; DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT WAS? That was a social services worker sent over by the SCHOOL because you were STUPID enough to let your teacher see! We had to pretend that Dudley's room was YOURS and PRAISE you because of YOUR inability to keep your punishments a SECRET!"

With an unintelligible screech of rage the blonde pig unhooked his belt and rapped the end around the edge of his fist, kicking the boy even as he loomed over him.

"SHIRT OFF NOW!"

Quickly the boy moved to obey, knowing that it would just get worse the longer he made the man wait. Wordlessly the boy turned his back to the man, his sneer of disgust turning into a barely controlled contortion of pain as the belt made its first mark upon his skin, the buckle piercing into it like a knife. Biting his lip the small boy rode out the waves of pain as the whipping continued, gasping in agony as his uncle kicked him again, this time in the ribs with enough force to break a few of the delicate bones.

"…*Huff, huff*…Put the shirt back on."

Struggling to stand the boy did as told, hissing in pain as the man roughly grabbed his arm and threw him outside, shutting the door after giving him a look that plainly stated that the boy better act as if nothing was wrong,….or else.

With one last glare at the door the boy slowly made his way to the woods on the other side of the park, gritting his teeth to keep from showing any weakness from the prying eyes that he could feel on his person, following him until he was lost behind the tree line.

Slowly the small boy walked deeper into the woods, only stopping as he came to a small lake, grunting in pain as his legs finally gave out and he hit the ground. He was silent for a time, glazed eyes staring sightlessly into the darkening night sky as hellish pain coursed through his body.

It was nearly 4 hours later when the boy gathered himself enough to sit, a low moan ripping out of his throat as the broken bones rubbed against one another. A snapping twig made the boy freeze, bright emerald eyes attempting to take everything in as the small head full of dark curls swung wildly in every direction.

"Who's there?"

"….привет?"

The boy watched with baited breath as a man walked into the clearing; but he was unlike any man he had ever seen before. His tall frame was packed with lean rippling muscle, barely concealed by the charcoal grey suit he wore, the black satin blouse underneath straining against his chest. Hooded red wine eyes looked at him with sparked curiosity, long artistic fingers absently brushing shocking silver hair out of a pale face with high aristocratic cheekbones, a black cane with a silver cross hilt held loosely in the other hand. Then the man smiled, and the young boy caught a glimpse of something that he didn't believe was possible: fangs.

"Как Вас зовут(1)?"

The boy tilted his head to the side in confusion; what was this man saying?

"Сколько вам лет(2)?"

The man took a few steps towards the boy, stopping as the small child tensed.

"Как Вас зовут?"

"…..Umm; ….not to be rude, but what are you saying?"

The man stared at him for a moment before smacking his forehead with one hand, a look of intense concentration on his face as he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I…am…sorry. I du not speak English verie often. My name is Vasya Pajari; may I ask vhat your name is?"

"M-my name is Harry."

Vasya chuckled, a deep rich sound that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.

"You du not need to be afraid Harrie; but I get ahead of myself. You are hurt, yes?"

"Umm….well; yea."

"May I help you? I vill not du anything that you du not vant me tu du."

Harry looked at the man in front of him, trying to gauge his honesty without actually trusting him which made the silver haired man smile sadly.

Vasya looked at the boy curiously, careful to not stare at him for too long lest he make him uncomfortable. A tiny, fey-like body lay strewn haphazardly across the grass next to the lake, a round cherubic face tilted to the side in contemplation.

Sadly, that is where the innocence faded.

Emerald eyes were cold and guarded as they surveyed him, the smell surrounding him reminding Vasya of an abused animal, complete with the sickly sweetness of old and new wounds, the sheer strength of the scent letting the man know that the small boy was bleeding profusely underneath the shapeless sack called a shirt.

Vasya waited anxiously as the boy considered his option, knowing that every second the boy delayed his decision, the closer he came to the hands of death. Wine red eyes lit up with relief as the boy slowly nodded, an upheld hand making him pause again.

"Before I let you 'help' me; what are you?"

"Me? I am Russian."

"You KNOW what I mean."

"*sigh* You truly vish tu know?"

"Yes."

"I…am…..Vampire."

"Prove it."

Vasya sighed before crossing the space between them in a second, his fangs elongated and pressed tantalizingly against the vein in the boys' neck. He felt Harry's heartbeat jump against his fangs as he realized the position he was in, hearing the grating of his broken ribs as the boy drew in a shaky breath.

"O-ok; I believe you."

Vasya smiled sadly as he removed his mouth from the boys' neck, carefully re-arranging the tiny body before pulling out a tiny box out of one of his pockets. Enlarging it with a wave of his hand he opened the top and pulled out several vials, chuckling as he noticed the stunned expression on Harry's face.

"Is this your first time vitnessing magik little vizard?"

"Wizard?"

"You have a magik kore just like the other vizards I have met; though none are as large as yours—or as bound."

"Bound; …..what do you mean bound?"

"….Before I vas Vampire I vas a—a vizarding healer you kould say. The only other time I have seen a kore as bound as yours is ven the kurrent czar of the time had been overthrown, the people lokking up his kore so much that he kould not retake the magikal throne of Russia even if he vanted tu."

"…A-and with me?"

"I do not know vhy they bound you little one; I do not know even vhat they vere thinking vhen they did so. Tu bind magik at such a young age vould result in death bekause the kore is not allowed tu develop properly and if the binding vere tu be released later on in life, the magikal baklash kould kill not only the person bound, but everyone around them as vell."

Harry lay there as Vasya tended to his wounds, stunned that somebody had done something—something like THAT to him despite the consequences. Had his parents known about magic? Is that why they allowed someone to bind him like that? Because they wanted to be normal just like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? Is that why they were willing to risk his life; to have a NORMAL life?

….Well fuck that.

Whoever had done this or had wanted this done to him obviously weren't here now, and he would be damned if he let someone ELSE control his life. His mind made up Harry turned his attention back to Vasya, dutifully swallowing the 'potions' that the vampire presented to him and leaning against his chest before speaking.

"Vasya?"

"Yes Harrie?"

"Is there—is there a way to remove the binding without—without killing me?"

"…..How old are you little one?"

"I'm going to turn 6 next month; why?"

Vasya was silent for a time as he mulled his options over, careful to keep the silence short; he could feel the boy get tenser every moment he was silent.

"*sigh* There is a vay, but I vill need time tu get together the necessary tools tu help you.

You said that your birthday is next month, yes?"

"Right."

"Meet me here the night of your birthday and ve vill take care of it then.

Harrie?"

"Hm?"

"I might need help; is it alright if I bring a friend tu assist me vhen the time komes?"

"….As long as I have a chance to speak to this 'friend' before we begin I suppose I can allow it."

Vasya chuckled; Harry might have been hurt and in pain, but he exuded a quiet strength—come to think of it that was probably the reason why he had survived as long as he had, wherever he lived that made him as damaged as he was. Vasya wished he could whisk the little wizard away, but the damn laws of the magical world would ensure his little wizard was taken away just as quickly because he was vampire and Harry was not.

Sighing softly Vasya pulled out another little square out of his pocket, enlarging it to reveal a thick blanket which he wrapped around the both of them, scooting back a bit so that he could rest against the back of a tree.

"You should get some sleep Harrie; your body needs it tu heal. I vill stay by you tonight, though I vill have to vake you up before first light so that I have time tu find shelter from the sun."

"That's fine; I need to find a way into the house and start cooking breakfast before they get up in the morning anyway. Good night Vasya."

"спокойной ночи Harrie(3)."

The silver haired vampire leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he felt the boy snuggle against him, ears perking as he heard a tiny mumble.

"Vasya?"

"Yes Harrie?"

"…..Thank you."

Vasya chuckled, giving the boy a small squeeze before settling more comfortably against the tree.

"You are velcome little vizard; you are velcome."

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1. What is your name?

2. How old are you?

3. Good night Harry.

Fealion: I like the Harry I came up with; strong, yet vulnerable at the same time.

Vasya: I just vish I kould kill his pig of an unkle.

Fealion: Doesn't everyone?

Vasya: True.

Fealion: I will try to update this and 'Taiju no Ho' as often as I am able. Please review and until next time!