Harry Potter and the Vampire's Assistant

Chapter Twenty-One
"And Then the Fight Ended"

Updated February 9, 2013

=ooo=

Harry turned to Voldemort. "Can you get us into Gringotts?" he asked.

Voldemort stared at him for several seconds before answering. "They would not dare keep me out!" he snarled.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Ron snorted. "Besides, my brother Bill told me that the goblins don't really like you much."

"It is not a question of their liking me," Voldemort snapped. "I have promised them a place in Wizarding government after I take over from the weaklings and cowards infesting the Ministry!"

Harry shook his head. "That doesn't mean anything if they decide to betray you once you step inside Gringotts."

Even in the darkness of the cave Voldemort's eyes seemed to flash with anger. "You may doubt me, vampire, but my hold over the goblins is absolute. I will be able to get you inside Gringotts. After that, however, must find your own way — the goblins take a dim view of anyone stealing, either from them or of the valuables in their safekeeping."

Harry was silent a moment. "I suppose we'll have to risk it," he said to Ron. "Let's get back over the lake and we'll go from there."

Ordering Voldemort into the boat, Harry and Ron stepped in after him and the small craft began moving across the still, black waters of the lake. They made their way back to the outer cave, Harry carrying the boat so they could navigate back along the narrow channel leading to the cliffs outside.

They finally emerged from the crack in the cliff wall into the black, churning waters of the sea. Harry and Ron each grabbed one of Voldemort's arms and they stepped up onto the rocks they had climbed down to reach the entrance. Harry pointed upward and they rose into the air, flying straight up until they could land at the top of the cliffs. Icy winds whipped around them, but neither Harry nor Ron paid them any mind; only Voldemort looked discomfited by the wind and spray, though he pretended not to notice either.

"London's not that far, is it?" Ron asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the wind. Harry shook his head.

"We should be there in 30 minutes or so," he said. He looked at Voldemort again. "I hope you're right about being able to get us inside Gringotts," he told him, warningly.

"I a-am," Voldemort said confidently, though his teeth were beginning to chatter. "J-just get m-me there, I'll take care of everythi…" The Dark Lord's eyes went suddenly blank. He stood, no longer shivering as Ron stared at him curiously.

"What happened?" Ron asked. "Did you do something to him?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Something else I learned vampires can do — they can hypnotize humans into a state where they don't sense time passing or have any awareness of what's going on around them. Voldemort seemed too eager to have us take him to Gringotts."

Ron nodded. "I kinda noticed that. Do you think he really could have gotten us inside?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "He was lying about that, I could tell, but I went along with it because I want him to think that's where we're going."

"Oh," Ron said, now a bit confused. "So where are we going?"

Harry grimaced. "Honestly, I don't know yet. This trip was a bust — the locket in the cave was a fake, so we're no closer to getting all of Voldemort's Horcruxes than we were when we started here."

"But we're going to crack on, aren't we?" Ron wanted to know. "I mean, if we beat the Grand Coven we can become human again, right?"

Harry nodded slowly. "If von Necros is willing to sacrifice himself."

"He said he would," Ron voice was beginning to sound desperate. "Do you think he won't?"

"I can't guess what he might do," Harry shrugged. "He's hundreds of years old. He may have gotten tired of living as a vampire, or he might want to keep on like that — if we get rid of the Grand Coven von Necros will be the oldest vampire left."

"It sounds like you don't trust him," Ron said, worry in his voice.

"It's not that," Harry said quickly. "I just don't know what's going to happen once we deal with Voldemort and the Grand Coven! But like you said, all we can do is crack on and hope things will work out."

At that moment a shining silver bird suddenly swooped down and landed before them. The size of a swan, Harry instantly recognized it as a phoenix. He stepped back, shielding his eyes from its painful brilliance.

The silver phoenix spoke in Dumbledore's voice. "Harry, you must return Voldemort to Malfoy Manor immediately. We need the secret he holds to prevent Baron von Necros from being killed at midnight. Please hurry." The phoenix spread its wings and dissolved into silvery dust, which vanished as well.

"Huh," Harry muttered. "I guess that solves that problem. We go back to Malfoy Manor." He turned to find Ron staring at him curiously. "What?"

"That was Dumbledore's Patronus, wasn't it?" Ron asked. "Why did you pull back from it? Were you afraid of it?"

"It was bright," Harry retorted. "It startled me." Ron stared another moment, then shrugged.

"If the Order is trying to get into Malfoy Manor they'll need the Secret Keeper to tell them where Voldemort is holed up," Harry went on. "And Voldemort's the Secret Keeper. We're going to have to get into Gringotts on our own, somehow. I hope goblins are as susceptible to vampire powers as humans are."

"And assuming we can get to the Horcrux in Gringotts," Ron pondered. "What do we do about the locket, since the one in the cave was a fake?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, if Regulus Black was still alive we'd find him and ask about it, but I suppose our next best chance is with Kreacher. Damn! He's up at Hogwarts, though!" Harry frowned, frustrated. "Well, we'll deal with that after we get Voldemort back to Malfoy Manor. Let's go."

They each took an arm of the mesmerized Voldemort and flew off, retracing their flight back to Wiltshire and Malfoy Manor.

=ooo=

Draco frowned as he found himself just outside the front steps of Hogwarts. Dumbledore wasn't going to make it easy for him; the doors would be locked by this time and Filch would undoubtedly bring his late return to the attention of whoever was in charge of the school right now. That was probably Slughorn, Draco decided; he was the senior professor with Dumbledore and McGonagall gone.

Draco smiled grimly. That wasn't going to happen. The Headmaster had taken his other Portkeys, but he had something with him that would help him get inside without alerting any of the Hogwarts staff. He ascended the steps, reaching into a hidden pocket in his robes to remove a nondescript-looking quill given to him by his father a year ago. This quill, when passed over any lock, would deactivate any alarm spells set and unlock it. Draco waved the quill over the large iron faceplate of the lock, smiling in satisfaction as he heard the locking mechanism click open.

Slipping inside, he started for the door heading to the dungeons, then stopped. Was he really going to give up this easily? Was that what the Malfoys did, when things went against them? No, it wasn't, he decided. And he was going to have to do something, and soon — if the Dark Lord came out victorious, and Draco had no reason to suspect he wouldn't — then his mother and father were dead. He was dead. The Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy could not come to such an ignoble end.

He did have one final card to play. He would have only one chance, and he would have to convince someone that worked for the very government the Dark Lord was trying to overthrow that it was in their best interest to stop the siege at Malfoy Manor. Draco reversed direction, running up the grand staircase, heading for Professor McGonagall's office.

The Floo system had been mostly shut down inside Hogwarts, for "security" purposes. It was one of the reasons why Draco had been working on fixing the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement — with every other potential method of access into the castle cut off by the Headmaster, only a few connections remained open — or so he hoped. Even if the connection no longer permitted people to physically Floo into or out of Hogwarts, Draco figured that he would be able to communicate.

The Deputy Headmistress's door was locked, as expected. Draco took out his quill again, passing it over the lock three times before it clicked open. He slipped into the office, moving quickly to the fireplace to grab a pinch of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantle and throw it into the heart. Green flames erupted from the fireplace and Draco spoke the words he desperately hoped would work: "Senior Undersecretary Umbridge's office."

Draco stuck his head into the flames. He could see Umbridge's office, illuminated by the green light of the flames in her fireplace, but it was difficult to make out detail more than a few feet away. "Madam Undersecretary?" Draco called, though he couldn't see far enough to tell if she was seated at the desk or not.

"Who's there?" A high-pitched, girlish voice very close to the fireplace suddenly spoke, and Draco almost withdrew his head from the flames in surprise. "Speak or I'll curse you!"

"It's Draco Malfoy, Madam Undersecretary!" Draco said quickly. Umbridge's face moved into his field of view. This close, he quite understood why his father always said the woman was a toad — her face was wide and jowled, and her eyes bugged as she stared at him behind her rather short wand. "I have some important information for you concerning the Headmaster and the Order of the Phoenix!"

Umbridge's wand dropped out of view, but she was staring at him suspiciously. "What would you expect me to do about anything concerning Dumbledore or his followers?" she asked, sourly. "They have the Minister's unofficial approval to find and stop the Dark Lord. There's nothing I can do about them."

"But they're attacking my home!" Draco said loudly. "Right now, even as I'm speaking to you!"

"Malfoy Manor?" Umbridge frowned. "Why would they attack your family's home?"

"They've gotten some harebrained idea that we're harboring someone there," Draco said. He had to be circumspect — the Fidelius kept him from revealing who.

"Harboring who?" Umbridge pressed. "Be more specific, boy — I can't help you if I don't know what's going on!"

"Well, you know — uh, who," Draco said. Even that was hard to say, as close as it was to the name everyone used for the Dark Lord: You-Know-Who. "I don't want to say it over this connection, I don't know who's listening."

Umbridge was giving him a penetrating look. "And what do you expect me to do about it, young Mr. Malfoy?"

"I thought you could — you know — send someone to stop them," Draco said, suddenly wondering if there was anything Umbridge could do to help him and his parents. "I mean, they shouldn't be attacking our home without some kind of authorization from the Ministry, should they?"

Umbridge had stepped back and was looking back at her desk. Draco could barely make her out now that less light from the fireplace was lighting her. "How do you know the Order is attacking your home?" She asked suddenly, leaning close once again.

"I — I was there," Draco said. "Snape g-gave me a Portkey to travel there and take Mother away, but Professor Dumbledore and Moody caught me and sent me back to school."

"Hmmm," Umbridge appeared to think for several seconds. "I don't know what I'll be able to do, Draco. Let me look into it."

"Yes," Draco said. "Thank you, Madam Undersecretary." He pulled his head from the flames, unsatisfied by the exchange. He turned to leave —

— and found himself staring at the diminutive form of the Charms professor, who was shaking his head with a stern expression on his face. "This just doesn't seem to be your night, Mr. Malfoy," Flitwick said, disapprovingly. "I rather think you've earned the detention you're about to receive."

Draco followed Flitwick from the office, hoping that his conversation with Umbridge would be worth the punishment he would receive. With his family as close to a death sentence as it was, anything they might do to him at Hogwarts would pale by comparison.

=ooo=

Dolores Umbridge walked back to her desk, pondering over what the Malfoy youth had told her. He had been somewhat useful during her time at Hogwarts, and she and Lucius Malfoy had a good relationship as his "unofficial" liaison in the Ministry now that Cornelius was gone: she provided him with tidbits of information that Rufus Scrimgeour, who was rather more incorruptible than Cornelius had been, was unlikely to make known even to topmost members of the Wizengamot, and Malfoy in turn provided her with, well, incentives to keep him in the know of Ministry scuttlebutt.

Now, however, Malfoy was in Azkaban, and only the bribes that flowed from Malfoy's vault to select guards at the wizards' prison kept him from becoming a shriveled, miserable wreck of a person like most of the other inmates. She sat down, staring at her desktop, wondering what an action might be. One that would look, in hindsight, like she had taken the boy's words to heart and had acted in the best interests of the Malfoys, but one with enough deniability that she could distance herself from any unfortunate results that might happen at the Malfoy home.

It would be a fine line, she knew. She had managed to regain her position after the investigation into what had occurred at the school after she'd returned to London. It was lucky that the Ministry and the centaurs were not on good terms with one another these days; she had managed to push most of the blame on them for the deplorable actions they had taken against her. She had watched silently as Dumbledore walked into the midst of the surly four-legged beasts and quietly talked them into releasing her. She had even thanked Dumbledore, after a fashion, for getting her out of there, though the gesture had not been sincere on her part.

She grimaced, remembering how difficult it had been when she returned to the Ministry. Fudge had been convinced, somehow, that Dumbledore had been right all along, and was actually supporting him! She'd had no support from him, but fortunately his star had faded. It was only a few weeks later that he had been voted out as Minister of Magic and Scrimgeour was voted in.

In the intervening months since that discouraging time, she had slowly rebuild her credibility with the Minister, working diligently on the issues and programs that Scrimgeour had assigned to her, slowly insinuating her way into his confidence. Scrimgeour was not by nature a trusting man; his years in the Auror Office had made him cautious, and that caution was serving him well as Minister. Except for the fact he hadn't realized that several Ministry officials were Death Eaters!

But there was something she could do. She had retained a few friends among the Aurors as well, and one of them was now on duty in Azkaban. Most of the Dementors had left the prison last summer, but a handful had returned, and they were being put to good use guarding the handful of prisoners that were left after the mass escapes perpetrated by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. For a small bribe she could persuade him to send some of the Dementors from the prison to Malfoy Manor, just has she had done two summers ago, to Little Whinging, to take care of the Potter boy. That had not worked out the way she'd expected, though she and Cornelius had thought that bringing Harry Potter to trial for violating the secrecy and underage magic use laws would serve equally well. But Dumbledore had once again seen through their plot and successfully defended Potter before the Wizengamot.

Dumbledore and other members of the so-called "Order of the Phoenix" were supposed to be outside Malfoy Manor right now, attempting to gain entry. Unless the magical protection on the Malfoy grounds was much greater than she knew about, they would be inside by now. Umbridge smiled, a wide, twisted grin as she contemplated what would happen when Dementors invaded the manor with orders to Kiss anyone who wasn't a member of the Malfoy household. She began writing the encrypted message that would notify her ally within Azkaban to send a half-dozen Dementors to Wiltshire.

=ooo=

"This is an unmitigated disaster," Snape muttered sourly.

"Severus, you must admit, from what you've told us the situation was quite chaotic," Dumbledore said, calm despite the fact that the time was nearing midnight, the time the Grand Coven had threatened to kill von Necros. "We did not give Harry adequate instructions on what to do should he have occasion to escape with Voldemort."

"Face it, Albus," Moody growled. "That kid is a loose cannon. We're sitting here on our thumbs and he got Voldie off doing Merlin knows what. I know you sent your Patronus to him, but it's been, almost an hour now and he's still not back."

"Patience, Alastor," Dumbledore smiled. "I trust Harry will return with Voldemort. He may be more distant than we assumed — we do not know how widely Tom has scattered his Horcruxes, across Britain or even further, perhaps."

"Voldie would keep those things pretty close," Moody growled. "You found Gaunt's ring in that wreck of a house they lived in, near Little Hangleton, and Lucius Malfoy had Riddle's old diary, probably since before Voldie tried to kill the Potter boy. If you're right about the Hufflepuff Cup and something of Ravenclaws, I expect we'll find them somewhere in England proper as well."

"But well-protected," Snape added, quietly. "The Dark Lord would take measures to assure his Horcruxes were well hidden and unreachable by all but the most powerful and intelligent wizards."

Dumbledore turned to give Snape a smile, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, I don't know, Severus — the ring I found in the Gaunt house was simply placed under a floorboard, unguarded by any spells."

"But it had a powerful curse on it," Snape reminded him, his black eyes going to Dumbledore's withered right hand.

"Yeah," Moody's electric blue eye spun toward the headmaster as well. "You should've detected that spell straightaway, Albus — why the devil did you put the ring on, anyway? What were you thinking?"

Dumbledore did not answer; he had turned his attention skyward. "I believe our two young friends are returning," he said, quietly. "I sense their presence."

Moody's attention had turned upward as well. "I see 'em," he muttered. "They've got Voldie with them, thank Merlin. Now we can get this show on the road!"

"The Grand Coven will sense their arrival as well," Snape warned. He too was looking upward, watching their approach. "We will have to proceed quickly if we are to save von Necros."

Moody snorted. "Ain't he gonna kill himself anyway, once this is over? He might just as well let those other vampers do it and save himself the trouble."

"The concern was that Harry and Ronald might have been in a situation where their powers were needed," Dumbledore answered, though needlessly — Snape and Moody already knew why Harry and Ron had to get back to Malfoy Manor with all haste. "Ah, and here they are now."

Harry and Ron, with Voldemort held between them, touched down in front of the three men. "We've brought him back," Harry said to Dumbledore. He and Ron let go of the Dark wizard, who stood unmoving as the other regarded him warily.

"You have him mesmerized," Snape deduced immediately. "I assume to keep him manageable during your flight here. He did not want to return to Malfoy Manor."

"He thought we were going to Gringotts," Harry answered. He looked at Dumbledore. "He told us one of his Horcruxes is in the Lestrange vault — a cup owned by Helga Hufflepuff."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "I suspected as much. Riddle took that and a locket owned by Salazar Slytherin from a witch named Hepzibah Smith."

"He told us that," Harry concurred. "We went to get the locket, in a cave off the coast of Dover, but it had been replaced with a fake locket by Regulus Black."

"This is all very fascinating," Snape said, dryly, "but it is only minutes before midnight." He turned to Voldemort. "Awaken."

Voldemort's eyes fluttered open. He looked around, clearly surprised to find Dumbledore, Moody and Snape standing before him. His red eyes fixed on Harry. "You said we were going to Gringotts, boy!"

"I asked if you could get us into Gringotts," Harry countered. "I never said we were going there."

"We are wasting time," Snape snapped. "Dark Lord, face me!" Voldemort turned to Snape, his red eyes seeming to fade as he fell under his hypnotic spell. "Tell us the secret location of your hideout!" Harry and Ron both watched, surprised at the ease with which Snape had assumed control of Voldemort.

"Lord Voldemort m-may be f-found at M-Malfoy M-Manor," Voldemort muttered tonelessly.

Dumbledore turned toward the manor gates at the end of the drive leading away from the country lane where they stood. "Ah, there it is," he said. "Amazing how effective the Fidelius can be, even when you know where the place being hidden is located."

"I can see inside now," Moody announced. "The three Grand Coven vamps are still in the drawing room. Von Necros is there, too. And we've got someone standing at the front gate."

"That's Yaxley," Harry said. "I hypnotized him and ordered him to the gate, to let in anyone who showed up. We should be able to go right in."

"Thinkin' ahead," Moody grunted approvingly. "That's the kind of vigilance I like to see, Potter." He and Dumbledore walked up the drive to the now-visible gates, where a slack-faced Yaxley watched dully at their approach, obediently opening the gates for them.

"Thank you, Mr. Yaxley," Dumbledore said courteously as they passed by him. Moody merely grunted.

They had left Harry and Ron standing with Voldemort and Snape. Harry and Ron looked at each other, then started to following the two wizards back into the Malfoy estate. "Stop," Snape ordered suddenly.

Harry whirled around. "What?" he demanded. "We're not going to just stand here while —"

"While I have no doubt you would find some way to muck things up if you returned to the manor," Snape cut over him. "It is Dumbledore's wish that you two remain out here, safe from harm, while the Order cleans up your mess."

"Our mess?" Ron said, outraged. "We're the ones who've been trying to —"

"Silence," Snape ordered, and Ron's voice cut off in mid-word. "You will remain here with the Dark Lord. Other Order members will come to learn the Fidelius secret so they can gain access to the Malfoy estate as well. Do not disobey me." And with that Snape seemed to vanish, though to Harry's vampiric senses he merely took flight at speed, heading toward the roof of the Malfoy residence.

"Gaak," Ron rasped, trying to make his vocal cords work again after Snape's exit. "I didn't think he could do something like that to us," he said, hoarsely. "I thought only the vampire that Made us could control us."

"He's got the Grand Coven's blood in him, Ron," Harry said. "Snape might be more powerful than any one of those three Coven leaders."

"Hello, Harry, Ron," a deep voice said, and Harry turned to see Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Dumbledore informed me that you had the Secret Keeper, ready to divulge his secret." He looked at Voldemort with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion. "Harry, will you persuade our 'friend' here to speak?"

"Tell him the Secret," Harry ordered, and Voldemort repeated what he had told Dumbledore and Moody. Shacklebolt nodded to Harry and Ron then strode down the driveway toward the estate grounds. Several other Order members appeared in short order: Minerva McGonagall, who clutched at her chest upon seeing Harry and Ron, but listened to Voldemort tell the secret then moved on; Bill Weasley, who stared at his brother for a long moment, then grinned and said, "I see the rumors of your death were somewhat exaggerated, little brother." Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin appeared next, followed by Fred and George Weasley; both of them grinned as they saw who was guarding Voldemort. "Should've known you two would've found a way to beat the Reaper," Fred or George said. "Can't wait to hear about it," the other said, then both of them ran up toward the manor after listening to Voldemort's secret. The sound of magical explosions and bursts of light were coming from the manor by now; both Harry and Ron watched, biting back their frustration.

"This is just bloody wrong," Ron muttered, watching the spells light up the rooms of Malfoy Manor from one side of the building to the other. "We should be in there helping them!"

"Dumbledore doesn't want to take the chance we'll be killed," Harry said knowingly. "We're so close to being human again."

There was a cold chuckle next to him, and he turned to look at Voldemort, who had an expression of cruel amusement on his pale, snakelike face. "Human," he said, condescendingly. "When you could be so much more. Even being a vampire such as you are now is better than being a normal, mortal human."

"You went another way," Harry pointed out. "Murdering people just to tie yourself to the world. Not that it gained you much — we'll find your Horcruxes and destroy them, and then what will you do?"

"Ah, Harry Potter, you understand so little of magic and what it is capable of achieving," Voldemort sneered. He gestured to his own body. "The form I wear now will live for several hundred years, much longer than the lifetime of any normal wizard. I have made it resistant to damage from curses and from physical injury. It can resist even a Killing Curse — and your blood has made it resistant to your touch now. You and your mother's benighted blood protection spell can no longer harm me. I will be alive when everyone you know has been dead for a century.

"Even if all of my Horcruxes are discovered and rendered useless, I can make another, one that will be carefully hidden and protected," Voldemort went on.

"Not if you die before then," Ron growled.

Voldemort only smiled evilly. "Who will do that? You? Mad-Eye Moody? Albus Dumbledore?" He pointed at Harry. "No, the prophecy has said that only Potter or I may kill one another, and while Potter could possibly kill me as a vampire, he is afraid to do so and become irrevocably Dark and unable to become human again!"

"Don't be so sure," Harry said threateningly. "If it gets rid of you and your evil, I could be persuaded to drain you dry!"

"Do you think that will kill me, Harry Potter?" Voldemort said, mockingly. "My body will replace the blood drained from me within minutes. You would need a legion of vampires like yourself, continually draining blood from me to keep me helpless! And eventually even that legion of vampires would be sated on my blood, unable to drink any more. And I would live again!"

Harry said nothing, thinking. Voldemort's blood had been the vilest he'd ever tasted, even worse than animal blood. If he was telling the truth, even a true vampire couldn't drain more than a half-dozen humans in a night; trying to kill Voldemort that way would be futile. It was too bad von Necros hadn't known that — Harry and Ron's deaths would never have been necessary. "Dumbledore thought I could kill you. If I become human again, we can try it that way."

Voldemort laughed loudly. "I welcome your challenge, Harry Potter! We will see just who is the more powerful wizard!"

"Don't forget what happened with our wands," Harry pointed out, his anger at Voldemort beginning to simmer. "My wand beat your wand!"

Voldemort waved off the comment dismissively. "I will procure another wand, a more powerful one that I've been told has existed for hundreds of years."

Ron suddenly looked highly interested. "Wait a minute — you're talking about the Elder Wand, aren't you?"

"How do you know about the Elder Wand?" Voldemort asked, sharply.

"Everybody knows about it!" Ron snorted. "My mum used to tell us 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' when I was a kid. In the story Death gave the oldest brother the most powerful wand that ever existed."

Voldemort growled. "That old fool," he muttered. "He was spinning a tale or me! But no — I made sure he spoke the truth… The Elder Wand must exist! He would not have dared lie to me!"

"You're talking about Ollivander," Harry said, his anger building. "You had him kidnapped from Diagon Alley!" These thoughts were plain to see in Voldemort's head. "He's been a prisoner at Malfoy Manor all this time."

"Part of my plan to deny Britain's wizarding community the best wands available." Voldemort's tone was indifferent. "I have kept Ollivander's inventory for my own war efforts." He looked smugly at Harry. "Do not pretend you would not have done the same thing, Potter, if wanted to win a war against the likes of Dumbledore and the Ministry."

"I wouldn't have kidnapped a defenseless old man and held him prisoner!" Harry retorted, angrily.

"Then you are weak and doomed to fail against me," Voldemort sneered.

"Says the guy who's being held by two teenaged vampires," Ron sneered right back. "You look pretty pathetic for a Dark Lord who…" Ron shook his head, looking pained. "…who…uh…"

"Ron, what's wrong?" Harry asked, but at that same moment he felt something pulling at his thoughts, making him feel, well, bad somehow. Were the Grand Coven members attacking them in some way, trying to weaken them?

But Voldemort was smiling triumphantly. "You are about to meet some of my allies, Harry Potter — ones you have met before, I understand, and which you have not fared well against in the past."

Harry glared at Voldemort, but he now recognized what he was feeling — like he would never be happy again. And that could mean only one thing.

Dementors.

The first time Harry had come across Dementors had been on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of his third year. A coldness that went beyond flesh and bone, down into his very heart, had overcome Harry. He'd heard screaming and fainted. A year later, two Dementors had attacked him and his cousin Dudley a few blocks from his home on Privet Drive. He managed to repulse them with his Patronus, but his cousin had nearly been Kissed. What they were doing here — now — at Malfoy Manor could only have something to do with Voldemort being here.

"You called them here?" he hissed at Voldemort, who smiled coldly and shook his head.

"I did not," Voldemort said. "But I will use them to my advantage, nonetheless."

Ron had fallen to the ground, covering his face with his hands and whimpering in fear. Harry felt as if he should have fallen as well, but his reaction to the Dementor was not as bad as he'd expected it to be. He saw it at last: a tall, tattered gray cloak gliding toward him from the darkness, its dead, eyeless visage barely visible beneath the hood. It stopped a dozen feet from them. Ron was huddled on the ground, facing away from the Dementor, his face buried in his arms. He was shivering. But Harry's initial reaction to a Dementor had been even worse than Ron's was now! Harry felt pressure from the Dementor wanting to drain the happiness from him, but he was resisting it. Voldemort didn't seem much affected by the Dementor, either.

Then it spoke.

"Dark human," the Dementor seemed to be addressing Voldemort. Even though Harry could hear its voice, its mouth wasn't moving. "Our patience wears thin. We require sustenance. You have removed many from the wizard prison, depriving us of food. When will more wizards return to the prison, so we may feed properly?"

"I will replenish your food supply after I take control of the Ministry," Voldemort replied. "That will be very soon — in a few weeks, in fact."

"You're kidding yourself," Harry interjected. "You know the Grand Coven plans to make you a puppet under their rule! They will probably want the wizards you would send to Azkaban for themselves."

Voldemort looked askance at Harry. "You understood the Dementor, Potter? Interesting."

"Interesting? Why?" Harry wanted to know, but Voldemort was addressing the Dementor once again.

"Why have you returned to Azkaban?" Voldemort demanded. "You should be roaming across Britain spreading despair amongst the wizards and Muggles!"

"We go where there is food," the Dementor replied. "But it is nearly gone, now, and many more of us have come into being. We require even more food."

"You will have it," Voldemort replied, "but you must be patient. My plans are nearly complete."

"No they're not," Harry said. He looked directly at the Dementor. "He's lying to you!"

The Dementor hung before them for long seconds. It seemed to Harry as if it were thinking. Until now he had never heard a Dementor speak a word, none at all. Why could he understand it now?

"Vampire," the Dementor said at last, to Harry. "Do you ally yourself with the Dark human?"

"What? No!" Harry said, but Voldemort cut over him.

"The vampires have joined my cause," Voldemort said quickly. "They will share Muggle and wizard lives with you, once I rule Britain."

"That's a lie!" Harry said loudly. "The Grand Coven will control you and all wizards and humans in Britain! They don't want to share with anyone!"

The Dementor did not respond for some time. When it did, it pointed a black, skeletal hand at Harry. "We are allies with the vampires. It has been thus for many years. You desire their blood — we desire their happiness. But now you say the vampires break our alliance?"

"No!" Harry said. He had no idea there was an alliance between dementors and vampires. "Only the Grand Coven!"

"They lead all vampires. Will not all vampires do what their leaders tell them to do?"

Harry pointed at Malfoy Manor. "They're inside right now!" he said. "You can ask them if they've broken the alliance!"

"We shall," the Dementor rasped. It turned so it was facing Voldemort again. "Dark human, if the vampire leaders control you, how will you provide food for us?"

"They do not control me!" Voldemort hissed. "They are mere creatures! No matter how powerful they are, they can be defeated by sufficiently skilled wizards!"

"Wizards call us creatures," the Dementor replied, in its sepulchral voice. "They kept us from increasing our numbers by forcing us to stay at the wizards' prison and limiting our food supply. But there are few of us now at the prison, and we feed well. Our numbers increase. Soon we shall leave there once again and find more food. We no longer follow you, Dark human." The Dementor moved toward Voldemort, who backed away fearfully.

"Wait!" Harry said, reaching for his wand even as he realized he no longer had it. "Don't!" he cried, not sure what the Dementor planned. A moment later, to his horror, he found out.

A blackened, decaying hand reached out and grasped Voldemort's neck. His red eyes were wide with fear, his lipless mouth opened to scream, but Harry heard only a rattle as the Dementor pressed its mouth to Voldemort's. The Dark Lord's limbs thrashed uncontrollably, but there was no escape from the Dementor's Kiss. Voldemort slumped to the ground, his eyes open but unseeing.

The Dementor floated up and away from Dark Lord's body. "Vampire," it hissed at Harry. "We honor our alliance with your kind. The wizards have destroyed the vampires inside who betrayed us. We return to the wizards' prison, to continue to feed." It floated up into the sky; Harry could see other Dementors floating up to join it. They melted into the night sky, merging with the darkness, and Harry could see them no more.

"Unnnnngh…" Harry turned toward the moan; he'd forgotten about Ron! His friend had crumpled onto his side. Ron opened his eyes — the first thing he saw was the body of Voldemort lying nearby. "What — what happened t-to him?"

"Kissed by a Dementor," Harry said. It suddenly struck him as funny. "We spent so much time trying to find his Horcruxes we never thought about getting rid of the bit of soul inside him!" Harry put out a hand, bending over his friend to help him to his feet, and Ron reached up and took it but shook his head. "Hold on…a second…" he said hoarsely. "I feel weak… That Dementor nearly drained me…"

But Harry had gone stiff. The sensation of Ron's hand in his was not the same it had been. He could feel warmth…a pulse. "Ron," he said softly. "You're human again."

Ron looked up at Harry uncomprehendingly, then down at his own hands. He put his hands to his neck. "I can feel it!" he said excitedly. "I can feel my heart beating! What about yours?" He reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist.

Harry's wrist was cold. "Bloody hell," Ron whispered. "Why haven't you changed back?" Harry just shook his head. He would have to hope Dumbledore would know what was going on.

=ooo=

Harry's mind was whirling wildly as he waited silently with Ron for the Order members to emerge from Malfoy Manor. Ron's heartbeat was hammering in his ears, but he could still hear the faint patter of beats coming from inside the manor. He was listening for voices as well, but if Dumbledore and the others inside were speaking they were magically silencing their voices to outsiders, Harry surmised.

Ron kept touching his wrists, his neck — anywhere he could feel a pulse. After a minute or so he took a deep breath. "Whoa — that feels good," he said, then glanced guiltily at Harry. "Sorry, mate."

Harry shook his head, as if it didn't matter, but he still asked himself, What could I have done to keep myself from changing back to human? He'd been careful not to kill anything except animals — at least, he reminded himself, as far as he knew. In fact Ron had gotten closer to killing Malfoy than Harry had; only he and Snape had prevented it from happening. He'd drank unicorn blood, but so had Ron, and they had obtained the blood with permission, or had gotten if from someone who had. He and Ron had both drank blood from humans, but not enough to seriously harm or weaken them. It didn't make any sense, Harry told himself.

It seemed like a long time before anyone emerged from Malfoy Manor. Harry recognized Lupin and Tonks, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders; he could sense they had both been hurt — Lupin was limping slightly and Tonks had a bandage wrapped around the top of her head. Harry could see that her hair (what was showing) was a flaming red, almost the color of blood.

Kingsley walked out next, looking unharmed, followed by the three Weasley brothers, Bill, Fred and George, who were talking quietly among themselves; Harry could overhear Bill saying "he made quite a sacrifice, I can't believe he's gone," and Fred and George agreeing he (whoever he was) would be missed. They looked up, seeing Harry standing next to Ron just past the gates to the estate, and fell silent.

Everyone reached the gate around the same time, and the group gathered around Ron, who was still sitting on the ground not far from Voldemort's motionless form. "Hey, Ronnie," Fred or George said, and he looked up at them, smiling.

"Check it out," he said, holding out an arm for them to feel. "I'm back to normal!"

"As normal as can be expected," Bill said, with a small smile, but he had a corner of one eye on Harry, who was looking toward Malfoy Manor, anxious to find out what had happened. Only three Order members weren't accounted for as far as he could tell — Moody, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. And Professor McGonagall didn't count — she wasn't a "he." Oh — he had almost forgotten about Snape! The thought of Snape dead didn't strike Harry as particularly welcome at the moment. He hadn't been a well-liked man at Hogwarts over the past six years, and he had not made things easy for Harry or Ron during their time as vampires (which now seemed to be over for Ron), but he had fought with them and the Order against the Grand Coven. That had to count for something, in Harry's mind.

"So what happened to Snake Face?" Fred asked, nudging the Dark Lord's body with one foot. "He seems pretty pacified."

"A Dementor Kissed him," Harry said. "Once it realized he wasn't going to be able to provide food for them after he took over the Ministry, it turned on him."

"Wicked!" Fred and George said.

"That's something we hadn't considered," Bill said to Lupin. "What can he do now if a Dementor has eaten his soul?" Lupin nodded thoughtfully.

At that moment another person emerged from Malfoy Manor. Harry could tell even across the distance it was McGonagall, and her face was red and streaked with tears. Would she be that distraught if Moody or Snape had been the one killed? Harry didn't think so. He felt like screaming. The curse in Dumbledore's hand, the one from Marvolo Gaunt's ring, would have killed him before the fall term began, but it was such a waste anyway.

Hard on Professor McGonagall's heels another person emerged, the limping form of Alastor Moody. He managed to catch up with her, and put a hand on her shoulder. Harry watched as the two of them walked down the drive to the gate. Moody stopped and looked at the group, his electric blue eye spinning in its socket as usual. "I sent him on to Poppy," he said gruffly. "She'll take care of him until we get back an' decide what to do next."

"What happened inside?" Harry asked, his voice tight.

Moody snorted. "What d'you think, Potter? We took on the Grand Coven. And they certainly gave us a run for our money!"

"Even without magic they're pretty powerful," Tonks said, looking at Harry for the first time. "A lot of spells don't affect them at all, or only for a moment before they healed. You've got to put a silver blade directly through their heart to really hurt them!"

Harry nodded; the silver-tipped arrow Hagrid had shot through his chest had nearly done him in — if it had hit his heart… But that still wasn't getting to what he wanted to know. "Tell me what happened to Dumbledore?" he demanded.

"He practically took on those three Grand Coven vamps singlehanded," Moody growled. "They were fighting Lupin, Tonks and Shacklebolt, one of 'em waved his hand an' Lupin went flying against a wall, then Dumbledore stepped in and they all went after him. I never saw him do stuff like he did today — they couldn't touch him at first."

"But he seemed to get tired," Tonks added.

"Yeah, he was movin' a mite slow there at the end," Moody admitted, "but I figured he was trying to lure them in closer, maybe to grab him and drain his blood. I'd say it worked — they all leaped at him, and then there was that flash of light —"

McGonagall drew a ragged sob. "When we could see again, the vampires had disappeared and Albus was — Albus was…" she couldn't finish.

"How d'you know they're gone?" Harry wanted to know. "They might have flown away while you were all dazzled."

"They are gone," another voice said in a dry, sallow tone. Harry looked around to see Snape standing behind them. "I would have sensed if they had merely escaped rather than been immolated by Dumbledore's spell."

"And von Necros?" Harry asked, glancing toward the now-human Ron, who was talking quietly with his brothers.

"He was killed by Drakul," Moody replied.

"Protecting me," McGonagall spoke up. "I entered the room too soon, before everyone was set to go in. They nearly managed to hypnotize me before he attacked them, breaking their hold on me. Drakul tore off von Necro's head with his bare hands. It was horrible."

"But it had the beneficial side-effect of allowing Ron to become human again," Lupin spoke. His voice sounded tired and in pain. "The question now is, why wasn't Harry returned to us as well?"

"That's something I'd like to know, too," Harry remarked, feelingly. He looked around at the wizards gathered around him. "Any ideas? I was going to ask Dumbledore, but…"

Ron had stopped talking to listen to Harry. "You didn't kill anyone when I wasn't looking, did you?" he asked, only half-jokingly.

"Ron!" Bill said sharply. "Not funny!"

Fred leaned down toward Ron. "Good one," he whispered. Only Harry heard him.

"But it's a valid question," Moody added, seriously. "Potter, did you kill anyone, even a Death Eater, when you were inside the Malfoy place?"

"Of course not!" Harry snapped angrily. "I've been careful!"

"I don't know how you might have turned Dark any other way," Lupin said thoughtfully, ignoring Harry's anger. "You and Ron took Voldemort in order to locate his other Horcruxes, is that correct?" He gestured to the motionless form of Voldemort lying nearby.

"Yes," Harry nodded, calming down a bit.

"Did anything happen when you touched any of them?" Lupin asked.

"We never even found a real one!" Harry complained. "He took us took us to a cave off the coast of Dover where he'd hidden a locket, but the real one had already been stolen by Regulus Black and a duplicate left in its place. He noticed it was fake right away."

"He just told you where his Horcruxes were?" McGonagall said, disbelievingly.

"Well, I had to make him tell us," Harry admitted. "He resisted my hypnotism, so I drank some of his blood to force him to obey."

Moody, Lupin, Tonks and Shacklebolt all looked at one another. "What do you think?" Moody asked Lupin. "Could that have done it?"

"It's possible," Lupin replied, slowly. "But Harry also drank blood from von Necros, who was Dark, though he no longer chose to kill humans for food. If that wouldn't turn him Dark, I don't know why Voldemort's blood would."

"The vampires told us that drinking You-Know-Who's blood would eventually turn you Dark," Ron spoke up, remembering.

"I thought they were lying," Harry muttered. "To keep me from being able to control him." He looked over at Lupin. "What if I drink some unicorn blood? Will that cancel out the effects of the Dark blood?"

"There's no way to know that, Harry," Lupin replied. "Dumbledore told me you've already drank unicorn blood, to become powerful more quickly than a normal vampire would. I don't think any more is going to have an effect now."

"Well, at least we're rid of one problem," Moody rumbled, glaring down at Voldemort body. "He ain't exactly dead, but he might as well be, if he's been Kissed. I'd like to know why the Dementors turned on him."

"They want food," Harry said. "They realized that if he was under the control of the vampires he couldn't be counted on to keep their food supply coming."

"How do you know all that?" Moody asked, giving Harry a penetrating look.

"The Dementor who Kissed him told me," Harry said.

The only sound was a gasp from McGonagall. "Harry, that can't be!" she said, looking anxiously at Moody. "Only — only —"

"Only Dark beings and creatures can talk with Dementors," Moody finished for her, his voice hard. "That's always been the Death Eaters' advantage over us with them. They can talk to Dementors — we can't."

Harry was dumbfounded. "What — what about Azkaban?" he asked, confused. "How do you keep them at Azkaban if you can't talk to them?"

"Well, now you how to get a job there," Moody replied, coldly. "You kill someone you shouldn't, or cause some innocent's death somehow — it puts a Dark taint on your soul." He snorted. "For most of my time in the Auror Department there was a pool on when I'd end up there. But I did my job too well for them to waste me in a place like that."

"And where does that leave me?" Harry asked fiercely. "I don't feel Dark! What am I going to do now? I can't go back to Hogwarts with Ron — I can't do magic anymore! And I don't want to remain a vampire — I might as well die myself!"

"Harry, don't say that!" Ron gasped. He looked around at the others. "There's got to be something you can do to help him!"

"There may be," Snape spoke quietly. "I may be able to brew a potion that will reverse Potter's vampirism."

"Who are you kidding, Snape?" Moody said, disbelievingly. "There no such thing — Dumbledore would'a told me about it if there was."

"Nor was there a potion to turn a wizard into a vampire," Snape retorted dryly, "until I created one. I also created a potion to act as antidote to the first one." He produced a vial from within his robes. "This will restore me to normal. Afterwards, I will brew another batch of the antidote. It should take only a few weeks."

"Harry was made a vampire in the normal way," Lupin pointed out. "How do you know your antidote will restore him?"

"I don't," Snape replied flatly. "But it is a chance we will have to take." He pulled the stopper out of the vial and tipped its contents into his mouth. He had no sooner replaced the stopper than he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. As the others looked on, a yellow pallor slowly seeped into Snape's pale white features. He retched, vomiting up blood, then rolled onto his back and was still.

"I can hear his heart beating again," Harry said a moment later. "It worked."

Lupin bent over and felt Snape's neck. "He has a pulse," he said, standing again. "It did work."

"Great," Harry said, bitterly. "Now I have to wait for Snape to brew that potion again before I can be human again — maybe."

"At least there's a chance, Harry," Ron said. He was giving Harry an almost pleading look. "You've got to try."

"I'm not blaming you, Ron," Harry said shortly. "I drank Voldemort's blood, nobody forced me to do it." He looked around at the other wizards. "Look, I need to go think about stuff. I'll — I'll talk to you later, Ron." Before anyone could say anything Harry leaped upward, vanishing into the night sky.

"I'm not too sure about that," Moody said a while after Harry was gone. "We can't just let a true vampire run around doing whatever he wants."

"That's Harry Potter you're talking about, man!" Lupin said, outraged by Moody's implication. "He's not just going to suddenly go Dark on us!"

"If he's talking to Dementors he's already Dark," Moody disagreed. "An' now he's pissed off that he's didn't turn human again when von Necros bought it. There's no tellin' what he might do. We're going to have to make sure he's not allowed to run free until after we try Snape's potion on him. Agreed?"

Lupin frowned, but there was truth in Moody's words. "I don't like it," he said, "but…agreed." Slowly the other Order members there nodded their agreement as well. Their mission now: Get Harry Potter!

=ooo=

Hermione opened her eyes. She was still in her soft, cozy four-poster bed, warm and comfortable, while Draco Malfoy, she had heard through the prefects' grapevine was right now undergoing detention in Professor Flitwick's office for being caught out of bounds after he'd been warned to stay in his common room.

Something had awakened her, but she wasn't sure what. She was tired, but she didn't feel sleepy anymore; something was making her want to get up. She wasn't about to go wandering about the castle at this time of night, but maybe if she sat in front of the common room fire for a while, she'd get sleepy again. She threw on a night coat and slippers and padded down the stairs to the common room. The fire there was burning low, but she sat down in a plush chair near the fire and levitated a few pieces of firewood into the fireplace. In a minute the fire was burning warmly again.

"Hermione." The voice startled her, and she looked around, trying to see the person who'd said it. She recognized his voice, but why was he here, now?

"Harry?" she said, softly. "Where are you?"

"Here," he said, suddenly in the chair on the other side of the fireplace. No one had been sitting there a moment ago. "I need to talk to you."

"Of course," she said immediately. "How are you? How's Ron?"

"Ron's fine. We fought Voldemort and the other vampires tonight," Harry said, not looking at her. "We won. The vampires are dead — really dead, I mean — and Voldemort is gone."

"Good," she breathed, then realized what that might mean. "Did you —?"

Harry shook his head. "He was Kissed by a Dementor," he said. "His body's alive but it doesn't have a soul anymore."

"How horrible!" Hermione said, and Harry managed a wry smile at the idea that someone could feel sorry for a person like Voldemort. "But," she went on in a very low voice, "what about his Horcruxes? They have fragments of his soul in them as well. What if someone put one of those fragments back into his body?"

Harry looked surprised. "I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "I suppose we'll have to find the rest of the Horcruxes and get rid of them, to make sure nobody can do that."

"We? You mean you and Ron?" Hermione appeared a little crestfallen. "You don't want my help now?"

"Ron's human again," Harry told her. "Von Necros, the vampire that Made us, was killed in the fight with the vampires at Malfoy Manor. Ron became normal again."

"Oh. Good," Hermione frowned. "But what about you, Harry? Didn't von Necros Make you, too?"

Harry nodded slowly. "But I drank Voldemort's blood," he said, looking up at her. "Whatever was in his blood, it kept me from becoming human again."

"Oh no!" Hermione was aghast. "And there's nothing you can do to become human again?"

"Snape thought there was a way," Harry said, bitterly. "He made an antidote for the potion that turned him into a vampire. But that probably won't work on me, I actually died to become a vampire." He stood, walking slowly back and forth in front of the fire. "Hermione, I need to ask you for a favor."

Hermione answered immediately. "Anything you need, Harry. You know that."

"I — I need a place to stay for a while," Harry said. "I can't go back to the Chamber of Secrets — they know to look for me there."

"Why would they look for you?" Hermione asked. "They know you're not like those other vampires."

"Mad-Eye doesn't," Harry disagreed. "He thinks I've gone Dark. He may want to capture me, maybe even kill me."

"Why would he think you've gone Dark?" Hermione persisted.

"Because I can talk to Dementors now," Harry answered.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "But only Dark creatures can talk to —"

"Exactly," Harry finished, grimly. "I'm already guilty in Moody's eyes. Or Eye. Whatever. I just need some place to stay while I figure things out. Any ideas?"

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione said after only a moment. "Nobody can go in after you unless they know why you need the Room. You've already proven that with Malfoy."

Harry nodded, but there was still a snag. "But I can't open the Room, only a witch or wizard can do that, you know."

"I can open it for you," Hermione answered immediately. "You can stay there as long as you want. I'll even come visit you every chance I have. I can tell Ron and he can come, too —"

"Not Ron," Harry shook his head. "They'll be watching Ron, expecting him to help me," he reasoned. "If I need to talk to Ron I'll find him, not the other way around."

Hermione wrung her hands. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry this happened to you!" She jumped up and flung her arms around his neck.

Harry endured it as long as he could, then pushed her gently away. The smell of her blood was nearly overpowering his reason — he wanted to sink his fangs in her neck. "Don't worry about it," he muttered, turning his face away. In fact, he almost felt guilty asking for her help; her response to him was a normal human reaction being bitten by a vampire of the opposite sex. They developed an obsession about the vampire who had bitten them, sort of an analog of what Amortentia did to someone. He hadn't understood that at first, when he bit Hermione all those months ago.

"Listen," he said, still not looking at her. "I'll be back tomorrow night after curfew, we can go to the Room then."

"Why not now?" she said, anxiously. "I can…stay with you and we can talk a while," she suggested, smiling. "You don't have to be alone, Harry."

Harry smiled at her, but inwardly he cringed. He didn't want to do this, but there was no choice now…

Hermione blinked, finding herself in the chair next to the fireplace. The fire was dying down. She must've fallen asleep, she decided, stifling a yawn. She'd had a weird dream just now, a dream about — Harry. She stood, sighing, and walked slowly up the steps to her dorm. She hadn't seen Harry in weeks, now. Would she ever see him again, she wondered, or Ron? There was no way of knowing.

Lying down, she stared up at the canopy top over the bed, thinking about the dream she'd had. It was indistinct now, fuzzy. She wished she could see Harry again. She still missed him.

=ooo=

The End

=ooo=

A/N: Well, that's the story. Review and let me know what you think.