*crawls out from under a rock*

um...hi?

I know many people had probably forgotten about this fic by now but in the aftermath of such classic Harry/Tom fics such as Paraselenic by EmpyrealFantasy and Weapon by Jade Tatsu (about TIME girl! - Im such a hypocrite) being updated, I figured I was going to get this BLOODY DONE ALREADY!

I dont have a real excuse - well, actually thats not true, I have several, including taking my A levels, questioning my sexuality and falling in love - these two simultaneously mind you - and having a close friend who was seriously depressed and suicidal turn to me for help.

But I doubt anybody really cares about that. Does anybody even read these things anyway?

Anyway, for those few WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL people who do, the mystery of what happened to Vlad and Tom's child WILL be answered, so don't anyone worry. Voldemort will probably NOT be returning to his pre-experimenting looks, as love should be based on more important things than looks (go and read ch 5 of Second Chance), however there will be a vote on this. The wand issue will be resolved also.

In results to my question about Mpreg, 18 people said to go for it, 3 people said don't, and 3 people said 'meh'. However despite this result a review by ZenNihilism made me think carefully about what it would do to the current character dynamics and I am as of yet undecided. I guess people will just have to wait and see :p

Big big thankyous to the people who offered beta services. I was overwhelmed to get so many, and I truly appreciated all the offers. My amazing new beta is the fabulous My Tilly, aka My Ophelia, who I officially love (despite her not replying to my recent emails - where are you??).

Special thanks to Saintmagician for a very thought-provoking PM and to disgruntledfairy, who wrote two of the most encouraging and flattering reviews I have ever recieved. I am truly not worthy of such praise, and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy to read them. I've kept them for when I get bad reviews and need something to cheer me up. Thankyou!

This chapter is dedicated to Akire, for leaving me a helpful and detailed review for every single chapter of GoSC! What amazing dedication!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JKR does. I do own Vlad though, as he will grudgingly admit.

Chapter 2 - The Citadel

Harry woke to an arm around his chest and a solid warm weight against his back.

Shifting, he rolled over and looked at the figure in the bed with him. Face creased in a slight frown and mouth open very slightly, Voldemort lay deep in slumber, his crimson eyes hidden from view. Harry took the opportunity to examine the face of his... something, and let his eyes roll over the corpse-white skin, so pale that the blood vessels were stunningly visible and mottled like snakeskin in place, like on the backs of his eyelids. The nose which Harry had once found replusive was now simply a nose, flat and slitted like a serpent's face.

The roving eyes fell on Voldemort's mouth, with lips so thin they were hardly there at all and so pale they were almost blue. There came from it the soft whispery sound of inhaling and exhaling, like the wind through trees, brushing Harry's face with its warmth. The dark haired boy smiled. Leaning forward, he gently covered the lips he'd been gazing upon with his own.

Smiling as he felt the older man sluggishly respond, Harry leaned back and was treated to the sight of Voldemort's half-lidded eyes, blood red gaze firmly fixed upon his face.

"Morning Tom."

"Good morning, my Hart." Tom murmured, then leant forward and recaptured Harry's lips.

Languidly, a tongue brushed scross Harry's bottom lip and he welcomed it into his mouth, caressing the intruder with his own tongue and sucking on it. Voldemort sighed in satisfaction and licked the roof of Harry's mouth, causing him to let out a huff of breath in laughter. They resumed kissing, and Harry slipped a hand between their bodies that were pressed so close together to brush over the other man's chest. When the questing hand found a gap in the material and burrowed inside Tom broke the kiss with a gasp at the sensation, giving Harry the opportunity to place teasing kisses on the side of his face and throat.

"Your hand is... cold." Tom's breath hitched as Harry ran his hand across one pointed nipple, and Harry reflected as he had often done before that Tom's skin was remarkably warm for that of a man so in tune with his serpentine side. It was proof that below all of the experimentations and the beautiful if eerie physical beauty left behind by the touches of strange rituals and unknown spells, the man was still fundamentally human, exactly the same as Harry.

Having satisfied his need to appreciate his lover's chest, the hand became decidedly less innocent and decidedly more playful as it slipped down through the tangle of bedcovers and sleeping robes to the hidden heat at the base of the man's torso.

Tom shifted and groaned, unconsiously parting his legs in an effort to persuade the hand to focus on the prize, an action surprisingly submissive to the normal countenance of the man. Pushing himself further up with the hand not otherwise occupied, Harry laid teasing kisses on the small sliver of skin visible through the loose material of the sleeping robes, tongueing a hot path down towards where his other hand was still dancing around Tom's erection.

"Nn... Hart-" Tom spoke, voice sounding a little breathless, but his efforts to sit up were thwarted when Harry removed his hand from the depths of Tom's robes and mvoed up the older man's body so that they were face to face.

"Sssh." Harry whispered, allowing some of the sibilance of parseltongue to enter his words as he placed one hand, coincidently the same hand that had just been down Tom's pants, over the other man's lips. Tom settled back down and took the opportunity to lick Harry's finger, causing Harry to shudder a little and a lustful smile to break over his face. Leaning down, Harry licked the shell of Tom's ear and whispered "Just let me enjoy you."

The words caused an exhale of breath that was almost a moan but not quite vocalised, a ripple of anticipation running through the Dark Lord's prone form. Harry smirked and moved back down south of the border, reveling in the effect he was able to have on the other man.

It was something that he had known on a subconsious level throughout the later part of their relationship, that Tom was at least a little affected by him in the way that he himself affected Harry, but to have it so clearly displayed was tantalising.

Their last few encounters, in the claustrophobic dungeon rooms of Tom's headquarters, had been more about passion, Tom rediscovering the body he had spent half a lifetime searching for and Harry getting used to having the likeness of a Dark Lord over him rather than the body of a teenage boy. There had been little time for thorough enjoyment and appreciation of each other's bodies when the aim had seemed to be getting to know them as fast as possible, like cramming for a difficult test.

What he intended to do now was sample his older lover's caresses like wine, revel in the companionship that he was now certain belonged to him and him only, and see if he could make if not the most feared then definitely the most sucessful Dark Lord in centuries lose his composure.

Pulling aside the last vestiges of covers and baring Tom's chest to the early morning air, he licked and bit a trail down the line of the Dark Lord's chest, brushing the man's nipples with his restless hands to send shudders through his body. Tom's hands were going crazy at his sides and one pale fingered hand reached up as if to entangle itself in his black locks, only to fall back down to the sheets when Harry stopped all activity the moment he felt it touch his hair. This was about making Tom lose control, and having something to ground him was not going to aid Harry in that venture.

When Harry finally reached the base of his lover's need he paused, just breathing on the hot flesh and waiting for some vocalisation from Tom that showed him that yes, the man was very hard up and yes, he would be very much obliged if Harry would just touch him there, right there.

Harry smirked around the Dark Lord's cock as he felt so much as heard Tom's shudders of pleasure. He let some of his amusement manifest itself as humming laughter in order to drive Tom crazy and was rewarded with an exhalation of breath that sounded entirely too ragged for the amount of control he knew his lover wished he possessed at the moment. His own hardness was pressing against the sheets below him and the friction was delicious.

Not exactly an expert or a veteran in the cocksucking department, Harry attempted to do what came naturally. After all, if things continued in the way they seemed to be going at the moment, then he and Tom would have a lifetime, if not longer to learn the things each other liked best. As it was Harry summoned the memories of the times the young Tom Riddle had instigated this favour to remind himself of the techniques that would cause the most pleasure.

Perhaps it was his eagerness to please, perhaps Harry was naturally talented, or perhaps it was the fact that Tom hadn't had a blowjob in over fifty years that caused the intense, mindblowing pleasure that washed through the Dark Lord's system. It was the most sensual, torturous experience he could imagine, at least whilst his mind was otherwise occupied, mostly with half-formed throughts, curses and pleas that he refused to vocalise, gritting his teeth and only allowing a long, drawn-out moan to escape his lips.

Harry grinned at the reaction the older man was having, feeling heat rush through his own body at the sound of Tom's moan. His own hard-on was aching and pressed against the material of the bed and Harry couldn't help but reach a hand down to touch himself whilst listening to Tom make those delicious sounds.

It was quite a novel experience for Harry to be in control of the sexual proceedings. To be sure, he had caused Tom to lose control of himself before during moments of heightened passion, but this type of control, the knowledge the he was in charge of Tom's pleasure, that he need only pause in his ministrations and Tom would be left begging, wanting, needing more....

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry pulled off, sending a very Slytherin smirk up to where Tom was panting, glaring down at Harry with half-lidded crimson eyes.

"Ha..." Tom gasped, still fighting for breath. "If you stop..." He left the threat hanging in the air, empty and pointless and both of them knew it, but it sent a thrill through Harry to know that he reduced his lover to such ridiculous gestures and relented, taking Tom's cock back into his mouth and continuing in his enthusiasm.

Now that Tom's serpentine tongue had been loosed, the moans seemed to come more frequently, and interspersed were words, mostly in parseltongue, gasped attempts at Harry's name or his moniker, cut-off pleas and more threats that made Harry hum with amusement. The vibrations only made Tom curse louder, of course.

The threats seemed to be reaching a pinnacle, as Tom progressed from torture and simply mutilation to insinuations of death and then straight out, no-holds-barred killing. The ferocity of his desperation drove Harry ever higher as well, his hand frantic in its work and the pleasure rocking his system in a manner that was no less intense than previous sexual encounters.

Tom's human voice was abruptly cut off as he emitted a drawn-out hiss, low and sibilant and seeming to curl through the room with almost a physical presence. The Dark Lord's body tensed and suddenly he was coming and Harry was swallowing, choking and he pulled away, eyes roving over the form of his lover. The sight, the sound of that pleasure-filled serpentine cry and the taste of Tom's essence in his throat overwhelmed Harry and he came as well, spurting over his hand and onto the sheets between Tom's legs.

He collapsed bonelessly onto Tom's stomach, frowning and rolling sideways when his face landed in a smear of Tom's own come that was across the man's skin. Curious, he wiped the stuff off of his face and tasted it, licking it off of his hands. A low, sated chuckle reached his ears and he turned his head to see Tom watching him, obviously aroused by the image of Harry licking come from his hands but too exhausted to do anything about it.

They lay together on the bed for a while, watching each other and reveling in the fragile peace that seemed to exist between them just for this moment. After a bit, Tom's eyes drifted closed and his breathing evened a little, slowing from the adrenaline high they had both been on.

Harry sighed in satisfaction, pulling himself out of the bed and leaving the sprawled form of the Dark Lord behind. Turning to look he marvelled at how undignified the man looked. Stifling a grin, he imagined the looks on the faces of the Death Eaters if they could see their Lord now; he would never have their full respect again! Thankfully, he couldn't hear any movement beyond the thin walls and he took this to mean that he was the only one up.

Walking to the window he pulled it open with some difficulty and gazed out. The evening was crisp and cool, a fresh breeze that smelt of the sea blowing in his face. He breathed it in, relishing the feeling of freedom in the open air. This was different to last night on the Pegasi because then he had been in the sky, unstable and ungrounded. Now he had the protection of the four walls above him and the reassuring presence of Tom in the bed behind him.

"What are you looking at?"

It seemed Tom had woken and was indeed right behind him. "Nothing. Just the sky." The horizon was an incredible sight to behold, a spectacular red sunset that painted the heavens in purple and crimson and gold. Harry stared up at it, fixing the image in his mind and letting it grow until that was the only thing there, pushing away all the ever-pressing worries until he was standing in glorious obliviousness.

Tom wrapped his arms around Harry, resting his chin on Harry's head. Although Harry wasn't particularly short anymore, Tom still towered above him which meant he could do things like that. He rather liked the feeling, the protective embrace and the knowledge that Tom could and would defend him against all who would do him harm.

"What are we doing today?"

"After we have eaten, we will continue on to Lithuania. We should reach the portal a couple of hours before dawn, which is good, because that means the portal will be open and guarded and we won't have to spend another wretched night near muggles."

Harry pondered this information. "Tom, can I ask you a question?"

"You already have Harry, but feel free to ask another." Harry frowned a little at Voldemort, who raised an eyebrow.

"Why don't the vampires live in Transylvania, or Pennsylvania or something? That's where they always live in the movies and the fairytales."

Voldemort pulled Harry away from the window and pushed him towards the wardrobe. "Get dressed, we will need to move soon." For a few seconds, Harry thought he wasn't going to answer the question, but then Voldemort spoke, carefully and precisely, as if it was something he had learned. "It is exactly because of all the muggle legends that the Vampire community had to move their portal to this world. If you think that the vampires dwell on this earth, you are mistaken, as they do not. Instead they inhabit one of the many pocket universes created by accident in the formings of the great magics in the dawn of time, requiring explanations far too complex to really think about on a day-to-day basis and which are largely unnecessary anyway

"These pocket universes are small, so small and uncomplicated that they can be shaped by a powerful mind to be what that mind wills. The mind itself must be of phenomenal power to control the pocket universe though, unfortunately even I do not have the mental capacity. The last human with the talent for holding pocket universes in their head was Rowena Ravenclaw, but she only ever tried it the once and missed earth so much she had to return.

"The vampires moved the main headquarters to this pocket universe in the time of Cariadoc, the great part-vampiric historian, about six thousand years ago. Before that they moved on earth, but they were being hunted to extinction so the clan leaders got together and discovered the talents of Cariadoc, who had the mental capacity to hold together the strands of reality that you use to create a portal to a pocket universe. The very oldest vampires can remember this switch but they are so ancient and so powerful they mostly spend their time in the bowels of the Citadel, keeping the rituals of preservation going on Cariadoc. Unfortunately there has been none since him who can hold together the pocket universe, so they have had to keep him alive in some form or another this whole time.

"The vampires themselves live in a stone fortress called the Citadel, inside the pocket universe. The clans that live on the earth all have representatives who travel to the CItadel frequently, and report to the Vampire Council and the Triune Throne, which is a set of three Vampires who rule in sequence, two ruling while one sleeps. When one of the Triune is killed, a new Triune is chosen by the other two from amongst the Vampire Council."

"And who are you going to talk to?" Harry asked.

"I spoke with Methuei Velirox before, who was the current second of the Council. I presume that he will be the one to deal with me again, unless the politics have changed greatly since I was last there, even if that was over fifteen years ago. Vampires tend to think of time rather differently than humans. As long as they don't get slain and have a regular blood intake they can live to well over five thousand years old, and when you live that long you know that every chance will come around again. That's about all I know about the current systems inside the Citadel, but there was some disturbance a few years ago and it was kept very quiet. Only my spies inside the Citadel Court enabled me to discover it, so I shall have to wait until we get there to see if anything has changed."

"I see." They were both dressed now, and made their way to breakfast in silence, both thinking their own thoughts. Harry would have had more sucess with his train of throught if his and Voldemort's hands hadn't kept brushing together as they walked down the stairs, sending a jolt through him everytime they touched. It was extremely distracting.

Eating was a rather strangled affair. Speight joined them shortly after they started with Spencer arriving after that and rubbing his head, muttering about hangovers, but Nott and Theodore did not appear until Harry and Tom had finished eating entirely and Harry was considering risking going to the bathroom again.

Theodore avoided everyone's eyes, skulking behind his father like he was trying to hide. Nott's eyes flickered over Harry and then onto Tom, before he bowed, said "My Lord" and sat, pulling his son down and waving the bartender over to get some food without making a single other glance.

They left as soon as breakfast was over, the Pegasi once more leaping into the night sky and beginning the long journey east. The journey gave Harry time to think properly for the first time since that morning, and think he did.

He felt... pathetic.

Somehow the whole whirlwind of events that had ruled his life for the past couple of weeks had left him feeling empty and dry. It was impossibly hard to believe that in this world only two weeks had passed since the Great Battle of Hogwarts. Even if he added on the time spent in the past, it was still only a couple of months since he had been living life as Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, et cetera. Not Harry 'Hart' Potter... something... of the Dark Lord.

The ten days of lying around and thinking of nothing had made him apathetic and drowsy but being outside, the wind and the water and he had to admit, the morning sex, had begun to strip away the grey veil that had been draped over his eyes.

Okay, so everyone he had ever loved, besides Tom, was dead, killed by Tom himself.

Harry sighed. That was just something he would have to deal with. He had to move on with his life, for the simple sake of his sanity, if nothing else. He would remember those who had died in the war for his whole life and as soon as he had the chance he would make Tom erect a monument to those who had died.

He didn't care what the older man said, they had been brave people who died fighting for something they believed in. That was something worth remembering.

Besides, he could always make Tom sleep on the couch until he agreed.

Firmly sliding the mental door closed on that section of his life and worry, Harry moved on to the next pressing problem. As he had been slowly waking up his current situation and basically getting himself over the shock of finding himself back in the present with responsibilities and relationships and memories and powers, he felt that there were far, far too many things that he needed to talk to Tom about.

So far, his 'talks', if you could call them that, with the older man had ended up fights about the past and Harry had already decided that the past had to stay in the past and he had to live in the present if he wanted to have a future. It was cliché, but true.

Right now he wanted to know what had happened in the wizarding world, as the meeting he had been part of before they left had been insufficient to fully explain what was going on. Presumably Hogwarts had begun teaching again, with Rodolphus Lestrange as the new Headmaster, and Harry figured that they wouldn't kill or be overly cruel to the students. After all, the wizarding world needed children as much as it needed anything else, if it was to survive. He had a hunch that the school would become something like it had before, only maybe with the Gryffindors now having a similar stigma to the one the Slytherins had before. It was a shame that the prejudice wouldn't be wiped out completely.

He needed to make Tom tell him what he was planning on doing about his previous goals, killing muggleborns and so on. Harry had seen too much death in his life to accept Tom's pointless slaughters, and although he grudgingly accepted that maybe Wizards having children with muggles could dilute the magic in the bloodlines, he refused to hold with killing muggleborns. They couldn't help being born different any more than they could help being born blonde or brunette, and it was wrong to discriminate against them for that.

Unfortunately all this would have to wait until he managed to get someplace quiet and private with Tom, something that probably wouldn't be happening for a while, if what Harry predicted about the visit to the vampires was correct.

He was quite looking forward to seeing Vlad again though, as well as the child that Tom had sired, which presumably was now grown up. In fact, if he did some quick mental calculating, it was probably about fifty years older than him. What a weird thought.

They touched down in Lithuania in the early hours of the morning, the sky still deep blue except for a faint lightening on the eastern horizon. The air was crisp and cold, but fresh, and the smell of earth and wood permeated the surroundings. They were at the edge of a large forest, ancient and dark, with gnarled trees that stretched knotty limbs and fingers out to scratch their faces and pull at their hair. Tethering the Pegasi at the edge of the forest and putting up charms to keep them safe, Voldemort strode into the forest, the others hurrying behind.

They walked for a long time, and Harry found himself trying to find the courage to ask the older man when they would be getting there, despite the childish connotations. But then he found himself getting depressed that his magnificent Gryffindor pride was in such a state, and fell back into moody silence.

Fortunately for Harry's mood spiral, they finally stopped in a part of the wood which seemed just like any other, Voldemort holding up a hand to signal a halt. Stepping forwards, he took a gleaming silver knife from the folds of his cloak and placed it in his palm, closing the hand then vigorously drawing the knife away throwing blood spatters on the black grass. Two bloody handprints were placed on two trees that were apparently normal and completely similar to every other tree around them. Voldemort then took out his wand and placed it on a third tree, muttering something into the bark, before stepping back and healing his hand with a flick of his wand.

There was silence for a few seconds, broken by the nervous shifting of Theodore Nott behind Harry, but then there was a sound like metal being dropped onto stone and a softly glowing mist began to form out of nowhere between the three trees that Voldemort had touched. The mist was a pale red and as Harry squinted into it there was a sensation of a dark and blurry figure approaching from a long way off, before he stepped out of the mist and into the clearing with the rest of them.

Harry's first impression was that the tall vampire reminded him of Severus Snape, wearing a black brocade tunic and a flowing cloak over the top that seemed to billow just as the old professor's clothes had. The face, though, was far more aristocratic than the potions master could ever have hoped to pull off, and the black hair swept back and down off the pale-skinned face in silky waves defied the ex-deatheater's debatable personal hygiene and greasy locks.

Eyeing them suspiciously, he sniffed then turned to Voldemort, his black gaze straying to the hand where traces of blood still lingered. Meeting the Dark Lord's eyes a moment later, he was faced with an unamused glare.

"State your business." The vampire said, fangs reflecting the red light emanating from the mist.

"I have come to speak with the council about a matter they supported me in. My title is Lord Voldemort." Voldemort said, showing his willingness to comply but not to mess about.

The vampire nodded "I see. And these?" He waved a clawed hand towards Harry and the Death Eaters standing nearby.

"My subjects." Voldemort appeared to hesitate slightly, and the vampire raised an eyebrow. "And my... partner." His eyes flicked to Harry as he said this, frowning, and Harry felt a tightening in his chest.

Bowing his head graciously, the vampire turned and brought his wrist up to his mouth, moving it sharply so that a thin trickle of blood fell into the red mist as he held his arm forward. The mist swirled and darkened, becoming a much deeper crimson colour, and then the vampire stepped back and indicated that they should proceed into the mist.

Voldemort turned and offered his hand to Harry, who gratefully took it and welcomed the familiar spark that passed between their skin as it touched. The older man's lips twitched slightly which Harry took to mean that if his minions hadn't been present, he would have smiled. Stirring up what he could of his famous Gryffindor pride, he stepped forward and the mist enveloped them.

It was nothing like being portkeyed, or anything else Harry had ever experienced except possibly the junction between Platforms nine and ten as they melted into Nine and Three Quarters. The ground stayed solid under his feet and yet there was a sensation of moving forward very fast, wind streaming past his ears and making them ring. After what felt like hours but was probably no more than a minute or so, the mist began to clear and Harry got his first sight of the new world.

Bright sunlight fell from a azure heaven and a high yellow sun to an earth which was displaying spring in all its glory. Under their feet was lush green grass that stretched out in an endless verdant plain as far as the eye could see. Every blade of foliage shone under the light and here and there amongst the green were flashes of blue and pink and yellow, tiny flowers poking their heads above the forest of greenery.

In front of them, stretching all the way up into the painfully blue, cloudless sky was a castle, many-turretted and shining white as the stone reflected the rays of the sun. One elegant spire rose above all the rest, piercing the heavens right underneath the sun so that it hurt your eyes to look and only by squinting could you see the pinnacle of the tower.

Harry heard a stunned intake of breath beside him and turned to see the rest of the Death Eaters emerging from the red mist, eyes wide with the splendour of the dazzling world they beheld. The vampire emerged from the mist as well and Harry saw an indulgent smile flicker across the stoic being's face as his guests took in the beauty of the Citadel.

"Glorious, isn't it?" He said, running his hand over one of the trees and turning away as the mist dissipated. Glancing around, his gaze met Harry's and Harry marvelled at how much softer, more alive he seemed on this side of the portal, as opposed to the harsh stoic he had seemed before.

"How is it that you can stand the sunlight?" Speight asked, face rosy with awe. "Surely vampires cannot go out during the day?"

The vampire smiled, showing a hint of fang. "Under normal circumstances, that would be true, my lady. However, in this world the sun produces no ultraviolet rays, meaning it doesn't cause us the slightest discomfort. Indeed, we rather enjoy it."

Speight nodded, eyes showing keen interest, and Harry stopped listening to the murmured conversation between the two. He could feel Tom's hand still in his, they hadn't parted, and now he stepped a little closer to the older man.

"It's beautiful, isn't it." Harry whispered, and Tom nodded, his crimson eyes soft and contented. "How long can we stay here?"

"At least a few days." Tom murmured back. "It may take a day or so to get permission to see the Council." Turning to Harry his hace took a more serious expression. "Harry, a lot of my time here will be spent in negotiations and political meetings. I don't want to exclude you from what I am doing, but I would prefer you not to be there."

The tight feeling in Harry's chest returned. "Why? You said... back then, you said we were partners. What did you mean?"

Tom seemed uncomfortable. "Some of the meetings will no doubt get... tense. Dangerous. The Council can be vicious and although they shouldn't attack you due to your place under my protection, if they get angry they might find it difficult to control themselves. I need to keep you safe, and that means you not attending these meetings." Harry narrowed his eyes, letting Tom know that he had spotted the avoided question, but letting it slide for now.

"Fine. I'll find something else to do." He let go of Tom's hand and turned away, but was pulled backwards into an embrace from behind.

"Plus I might find it difficult to concentrate if you're there." Tom breathed into his ear, making Harry shiver. "You are very distracting. Can I trust you to stay out of trouble for a few days?"

Grinning a bit, Harry turned back. "What, me? Stay out of trouble? What are the chances of that?" He stuck his tongue out a little, smirking at the older man, who raised an eyebrow.

Having finished his conversation with Speight, the vampire directed them across the meadow towards the castle, sitting back down in the grass as they walked away and picking up a leather bound book as he resumed guarding the portal entrance to the Citadel.

They strode swiftly towards the gates of the castle and Harry resisted the urge to run. He was feeling more alive than he had in days, exhilarated and happy for very little reason. Something about the sun, the grass, the peace of the place was rejuvinating him, and he could almost feel the blood zipping through his veins again after days of it moving sluggishly.

He had taken up Voldemort's hand as they walked away from the tree portal but as they approached the great stone archway into the Citadel he dropped it again, aware that Tom needed to look impressive. Having a teenager holding your hand was not particularly intimidating.

Once they stepped through the gates Harry became aware of just how large the Citadel really was. It appeared to be a decent sized city all by itself, with streets and mansion houses everywhere, high class shops lining pathways strewn with blossoming trees and flowers. It was honestly surprising how little the place looked like the images from Harry's imagination, of dark shadows and bats and gothic churches. The architecture did have a gothic feel to it, but the streets were filled with light and the only animals about seemed to be the odd slinky cat.

The focus of the city, the place where all the streets led to was in the centre, a large stone building that tapered up into the colossal spire that they had seen earlier. A few vampires walked about, moving through the streets just as they were, seemingly going about their day to day business just as humans did in the real world. Their party garnered a few interested looks from the citizens of the Citadel and though there was some definite scenting of the air as they walked past, the vampires cocking their heads as they listened to their heartbeats, none of them made any moves to intercept.

They arrived at the base of the central building, which was a castle in its own right, and were met with the gate guards. They were tall, taller even than Voldemort, and each had two forbidding black swords sheathed in their belts.

"What business have you at the Citadel?" One asked as Voldemort approached.

"I have come to speak with the Council." Voldemort stated. "My name is Lord Voldemort."

The other vampire nodded. "Ah. They have been expecting you. But who are these others? Gifts?" There was a disturbing, hungry look in his eyes as his gaze fell on the assembled party, which made Harry shiver, even in the warm sunlight.

"No." The firm voice of Voldemort made the vampire's eyes move make to him. "They are my subjects."

Clearly disappointed, the vampire motioned his head to the side, and they walked into the main part of the Citadel. It was indoors, all stone corridors and thickly carpeted floors, but the lights here were torch brackets on the walls that made shadows and dark places in the corners. As the great door slammed shut behind them, they all had to stand for a moment to get their sight back. Even Voldemort, with his snake eyes, took a few seconds of blinking before the gloom made sense.

"My Lord." A voice suddenly spoke up out the the shadows and a couple of members of the party, including Harry, jumped at the sound. A vampire stood there, in the shadows at the edge of the corridor, dressed in black and with black hair than covered all but one eye of his face. "Welcome to the Citadel. Follow me, please."

Harry was forced to run a little as they strode down the corridor after the retreating back of the vampire. The journey seemed to last some time in the shadows and the flickering light, but eventually they reached a hude wooden door that was so tall that the top disappeared into darkness above them. With a bow, the guide vampire stepped aside, leaving the party staring up at the intimidating structure.

Voldemort knocked twice on the wood producing a heavy booming sound, then entered without waiting for a response from within. The rest of them trooped in after him, Harry wanting to stick as close as possible to Tom but being unable to as the man was striding ahead, in his Mighty-Dark-Lord mode.

"Ah, Riddle." A powerful, sibilant voice greeted them. "We were expecting you."

Facing their party was a low table with four seats placed behind it, the one on the right end conspicuously empty. The vampire that had spoken sat in the middle of the other two, fingers steepled and head tilted forward so that his dark, straight hair fell down either side of his face and obscured intimate examination of his features. It was an eerie effect that made the seated figure seem frightening, imposing. It also seemed entirely forced, the pose clearly planned for just such an effect, belying a self-importance that rubbed Harry entirely the wrong way. He fought to keep from frowning, ensuring his face was determinedly expressionless.

"I would prefer, Amadeus, if you were to call me Voldemort." Tom stated, voice level in a way which every single one of his followers, including Harry, knew meant he was very irritated. Harry heard Nott Senior take a barely audible breath behind him.

Amadeus arched one perfectly sculpted brow and his lips quirked in a condescending smile that increased Harry's growing dislike for the man. "That vainglorious moniker? Very well, if you so desire... Voldemort." The smirk dared Voldemort to respond, but the Dark Lord was silent. Only the slight twitch of the man's wand hand showed any indication of his frustration.

"I presume that you are here to discuss your little conquest of the British Isles, is that correct?" Amadeus said, his expression becoming slightly more serious. Voldemort seemed to sober up as well, the teasing over and the buisness coming to the forefront.

"Yes. As you will be aware, I was sucessful in overturning the Ministry and Hogwarts governing bodies. Your aid was most welcome." Voldemort bowed his head slightly, and Harry saw Amadeus tilt his more upright, accepting the thanks. "I am here now to discuss the new laws concerning vampires in Britain."

Amadeus nodded, motioning to the vampire seated next to him, tall and hooded. "This is Methuei Velirox, my representative for eastern Europe. I believe the two of you have met before, have you not."

"Velirox?" Voldemort started, looking towards the hooded vampire, who had raised his head enough for glittering blue eyes to show through.

"Riddle." Velirox intoned, and this time Voldemort made no complaint.

There were a few moments of tense silence, in which Harry's eyes flicked between the two imposing figures. What was this? Who was this Velirox guy? He vaguely remembered Tom mentioning the name but he had dictated nothing which could be the cause of this tension.

"How...how is Kirmuin?" Voldemort said, his voice carrying an edge that was apprehensive as well as containing a softness that made Harry's glance fly to the back of his lover's head.

"She is adequate." The vampire said. Then he turned his head to Amadeus, breaking the tension. "But this is neither the time nor the place to speak of such things. Archlord, will you join us in the southern chamber?"

Amadeus nodded and as one the two vampires rose, stepping around the table and walking to a dark archway in the wall. After a moment and a glance at Harry that revealed nothing, Voldemort followed. There was a few moments of silence before the third vampire seated at the table, the one that hadn't spoken before, did so.

"I apologise for the Archlord and the Viceroy's behavior. They are... not very nice people, to be honest." The third vampire had been hooded as well but now they pushed the dark material back, revealing a beautiful heart-shaped face framed by flowing golden locks. The lady, for she was undoubtedly female, smiled, and Harry heard at least four intakes of breath from behind him as the straight men of the party beheld her stunning beauty.

"I am Galatea, Archlady." The vision of feminine loveliness said. "And in case nobody has done so already, I would like to welcome you to the Citadel." She rose and circled the table, coming forward to meet them. "I keep telling the men that we need some more light and flowers in the place, but apparently that would 'lower the tone'" She said, rolling her eyes whilst making air quotes with her long manicured fingers.

"Jecht?" She called, and the door that they had entered by swung open, the vampire who had escorted them there poking his head through.

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Would you go and make sure our guests' rooms are prepared? And while you're up there, see if Tenshi is in the Library." She gave one of her breath-taking smiles to the shrouded vampire, a slight shudder running through the cloaked shoulders.

"As you wish, my Lady." Jecht bowed his head and left. Galatea turned back to Harry and the others and seemed to notice their apprehensive expressions.

She laughed, a beautiful sound that rang through the small room. "Oh, don't mind Jecht. He may look and act a little strange, but he hasn't been out of the main castle in three hundred years, so you'll have to excuse him."

"Three hundred years?" Speight echoed in disbelief. "Why on earth not?"

"He doesn't like the light." Galatea said, eyes becoming a little sad. "He's a relatively young vampire, only a few hundred years old, and had some rather bad experiences with people forcing him into sunlight back on earth. Even our modified, perfectly safe sunlight terrifies him, poor thing." She laughed again, looking up at them. "He makes a wonderfully atmospheric guide though."

Speight laughed slightly as well, a little nervously, but the potentially awkward moment was broken by a soft knock on the door and Jecht's reappearance. "Their rooms are ready, My Lady."

"Thankyou." Galatea smiled at him, and Jecht bowed his head. "Will you please escort them to their chambers now? I'll see you all later." She added for the benefit of the party, and went back to sit behind the low table, picking up some of the parchment that was strewn across it. Harry and the rest of the group turned back and followed Jecht out of the room and back into the labyrinth of shadowy corridors.

They seemed to travel a great distance and although there were no stairs on their route, Harry had the strange feeling that he was going higher, the maze of corridors very slightly sloping upwards. They passed almost nobody, only a couple of shrouded figures and one exquisitely dressed female vampire meeting them in the corridors. All three passers-by nodded to Jecht and took notice of the travellers, but the only one whose reactions they could discern was the lady, displaying a mixture of hunger and disinterest.

One by one they were dropped off at their rooms, a terse word from Jecht all that signified who was to go where. Harry was the last one to be dropped off, the furthest along the winding corridor and presumably the highest one as well.

The room was small but had a great, open window across one wall which made the space seem larger, more open. Its furnishings were sparse but tasteful, ornate without being extravagant. Sighing slightly, Harry sat down on the bed and immediately felt a sense of exhaustion wash over him. He frowned a little, as the sudden tiredness was unexpected and he been awake for less that twelve hours, but the stupor quickly became too strong to fight and he sunk into a deep sleep, still dressed in his travelling cloak and lying sprawled on the covers.

He was woken by a hand brushing softly over his cheek, smoothing the hair back from his eyes. "Mm...Tom?" He murmured, but the gently feminine laughter was unexpected and his eyes flew open in surprise.

The beautiful face of Galatea met his eyes, smiling down at him as she twirled a lock of black hair around her finger. "Sorry little one, but I am not your beloved. He is still busy with those boring men downstairs." She laughed. "Do you have the time to play with me while you await him?"

"Um...play with you?" Harry struggled to sit up. "You dont mean like..." He blushed and Galatea only laughed harder.

"Oh no, little one! I wouldn't take something so special away from your beloved. He needs you too much." She took Harry's hand in hers, and held it. "I was wondering if you would come to visit someone with me. I think you will enjoy it." Smiling at him again, Harry compelled to do anything the beautiful lady asked. He suspected some ind of vampiric compulsion but unless she asked him to do anything actively unpleasant, he would indulge her.

They walked together down the neverending corridor, and Harry found himself shooting glances at Galatea out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't...attracted to her exactly, there was just something about her that made you want to look at her, to garner as much of her attention and subsequently her beauty as possible. "Are you like... part veela or something?" He asked.

The sound of her laughter echoed amongst the stone. "No, little one, I am not. In fact, my beauty is a mask, a porcelain shield to hide myself behind. The years have...not been kind to me." A kind of sadness entered her eyes as she looked down.

"So...you are old?"

"I have known the summer more than three thousand times." Her voice was airy, distant and less warm than before. Harry felt Galatea's grip loosen on his hand and he held tighter, not wishing to let her slip away. "Only Amadeus is older. All the others skulk in the dark places deep in the earth, feeding off us and yet keeping us alive at the same time. I hail from a race of parasites..." She trailed off, and suddenly her eyes snapped into focus again and she was once more the regal, bright lady of before, all trace of the sorrowful maiden gone without trace.

"I apologise, little one. I forgot myself. Here, we have arrived." They had stopped outside a set of huge oak doors and although the looked heavy Galatea pushed them open easily with one hand. They walked into a world of books.

It was a library, that was clear enough, but it seemed that whoever had designed it had had more books than fitted on the shelves. The walls were covered from floor to ten-foot ceiling with books and piles of tomes that lay in stacks up to six or seven feet high all over the place. A few vampires were visible here and there amongst the paper mountains, and Galatea led Harry by the hand between the towers to one corner of the room. A figure was stood atop a pile of books, hanging on to a shelf whilst attempting to reach up to another shelf, right near the ceiling.

"Greetings, paper-muncher!" Galatea called to the vampire atop the shelf and they attempted to look round, shifting their gripping hand in the process so that they slipped and lost hold of the wood, sending themsleves and the pile of old tomes they was standing on crashing to the floor in a fountain of dust. A few other vampires looked over in mild interest but soom returned to their own reading sources, bored with the interruption. Coughing was heard from inside the mushroom cloud and a blurry figure staggered forward, brushing dust off of his clothes and hair.

"My Lady!" He spoke, annoyed. "If you must call me that ridiculously degrading nickname, please refrain from using it when I am concentrating. It is bad enough falling down in such an atrociously undignified manner, but even worse to have lost my train of thought. I hope you are satisfied." He scowled, crossing his arms and blowing an errant lock of hair out of his face.

Galatea smiled and tugged Harry forward. "Very much. I would like you to meet someone. Harry Potter, this is Vladimir Tenshi. Vladimir, this is Harry."

There was a moment of eye contact, a sudden association in Harry's mind and a memory of a night, not so long ago, when a seventeen year old friend had looked at him in a dormitory in the Hogwarts dungeons. In the vampire's mind, an old and fading obliviate finally loosed its tenuous hold on the memories it was tasked to protect. It was fifty years and a couple of hundred miles away, but the faces were unmistakable.

"Vlad?" Harry asked, at the same time as the vampire whispered "Hart?" incredulously.

Galatea smiled knowingly, patted them both on the shoulder and moved away to look at a nearby shelf of books, practically whistling with nonchalance.

"Hart, what are you doing here?" Vlad asked, eyes wide. "And you...you haven't aged a day. What happened?"

Harry smiled a little, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "It's...kind of a long story.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, also known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who and no doubt a whole host of other ridiculous titles, only some of which he'd made up himself, was bloody irritated.

Amadeus sat across from him, smirking infuriatingly, with Velirox a silent shadow in the background, the scritch scritch of his quill the only sound in the room as Tom dug his nails into the palms of his hands in frustration. "I can't give you humans to eat, Amadeus. The people would never go along with it, and the influx of vampires to Britain would become too overwhelming for our resources. Soon the muggles would notice, and once they get their hands on the information they would wipe out not only the vampire colonies but the wizarding world as well. I can't take that risk."

"Then you will have to offer me something else. Of similar value." Tom ground his teeth together. The undead bastard was playing hard to get, fighting his plans at every single step and making it impossibly difficult to provide something that would do as collateral to ensure they both kept their halves of the bargain.

He couldn't afford to lose his temper however, and although he was approximately eighty percent sure he could subdue the vampire long enough to escape, he didn't want to risk sparking a disagreement that could cause all of his carefully laid plans to fall to pieces. "When I began this war and asked for your help, Amadeus, the price you demanded was freedom from persecution and eradication of all the laws unfairly targetting your kind. I can now give you these things, but if the vampiric community wishes to be treated as equals amongst wizards then they will have to function under and obey the same laws. I will not have a race of serial killers freely roaming the streets."

Tom saw Amadeus' lips tightening, but he continued on. "Your food will not be denied, there will be blood banks made available and even live donors if it can be proved that those drinking will not lose control and drain the victim dry. The vampires will be full and unconstrained members of magical society, but even they must obey society's rules. Which means no randomly killing people."

A frown was the only response to his words, and the two powerful men gazed intently at each other for a good minute, the air between them practically humming with energy. A cough from Velirox broke the tension, and Tom turned, having forgotten about the other vampire. "My Lords, might I suggest a break from negotiations? You could continue tomorrow."

Amadeus nodded and Tom followed his example. They were at a stalemate and clearly no further progression was possible at this time, so a break was probably the best thing. They rose and exited the chamber, Amadeus striding ahead whilst Tom hung back in order to speak to Velirox.

"I hear Kirmuin is marrying this winter." He spoke softly, and the vampire's gaze briefly flickered to him before returning to neutrality. "I would congratulate her and her fiancée."

"Your congratulations are not necessary." Velirox's voice was equally soft, but Tom could hear the minute tremor in tone that denoted the vampire's anger. Mentally, he sighed. He supposed he ought to have been expecting this reaction, he had broken the heart of the man's only daughter after all. It had all been such a long time ago, decades, and to the current date he had no idea what Azul had eventually done to stop the female vampire from stalking him. "I would request that you stay away from Kirmuin whilst you are staying in the Citadel." Velirox intoned and Tom nodded. It was not unexpected, and no great loss to him as he rather suspected the appearance of the female vampire would cause Harry some distress. Partcularly if he learnt of her and Tom's past history.

Up ahead, Amadeus snared a passing shadow and revealed the scrawny vampire who had guided them in. The elder vampire spoke in hushed tones to him, then released the shoulder he had been gripping, allowing the other vampire to escape. "I believe your party have already retired to their rooms." He spoke to Tom.

After being given instructions on how to reach his own rooms, Tom set off into the heights of the Citadel. He was familiar with the style of corridor, appearing always to be slanting to the left and never reaching any stairs so that by walking in endless spirals you climbed to the pinnacle of the tower. As he passed higher, he suddenly became aware of low voices up ahead. As he reached his own door, he could hear the voices coming from the one beside it.

A low laugh echoed through the wood and Tom stiffened. That was Harry's laugh! Knocking on the door he pushed it open before those inside had a chance to answer and arrived into a situation that shocked him and left him standing in the doorway like a moron.

Harry sat on the bed, nursing a glass of wine (or something else red, he hoped it was wine) and talking animatedly to a man with long black hair. The man's face was turned away but something in his voice sounded familiar and when Harry suddenly stopped talking and exclaimed "Tom!" he turned around.

"Dear Merlin." Tom breathed. "Vlad?" He stepped forwards and Vlad rose to meet him. There was an awkward moment where neither one of them moved, fifty years of animosity hanging over their heads like stormclouds, but then Vlad stumbled a little and Tom had just enough time to realise Harry must have pushed the other man towards him before he had an armful of vampire.

And suddenly they were embracing like old friends, which really, they were. Vlad's fingers were almost painfully tight through Tom's cloak but he endured it and took a sense of security from them, leaning forward and allowing himself the luxury of burying his face in Vlad's beautiful hair, inhaling the scent which even now took him back to late nights in Slytherin common room playing chess, drinking wine and talking about the future.

Opening his eyes he saw Harry smiling at the two of them happily, still sitting on the bed cross legged. As his eyes moved across the bedcovers and the rest of the room he suddenly noticed a figure sitting in a chair by the head of the bed. The man was reading a large, dusty book, shoulder length black hair falling across his face so that the top half was shrouded in shadow, and seemed totally uninterested in what was going on in the room, but Tom noted the tiny twitches of the mouth that he suspected meant that the chair's occupant was not entirely pleased with the current state of events. Carefully, he examined the face in case it was another unexpected old friend but after a moment he concluded that the vampire was a stranger.

"And who is this, my Hart?" He asked of Harry as he and Vlad broke their embrace, and Harry turned to the reader in something like surprise, as if he had forgotten that the vampire was even present. Then apprehension and tension crossed his face and he was frowning as he turned back to Tom.

"This is Dimitri."

At the sound of his name the reading vampire looked up and put down his book with exaggerated slowness, rising from his seat and stepping forward but making no move to greet Tom. Tom was aware of Vlad at his side, eyes darting between the two of them, and Tom's puzzlement gradually morphed to irritation. "What is it? The tension in this room is palable."

Harry bit his lip and Tom was momentarily distracted by how sexy he looked before his mind was snapped out of his trousers and into real life at Harry's words.

"Tom.... This is your son."

A/N : Dun Dun Dunnn... so yeah.

I hope this was worth the wait, I don't think Ive ever stressed out so much over a single chapter of anything, ever. I have already started CH3 and there is a good 2000 words done and waiting for more. I have a plan which should carry me through to about chapter 5 and then I get sort of muddled, but hopefully by the time I get there I will have figured stuff out.

In response to questions:

Who thinks Tom should return to his pre-experimenting looks? Or have some alteration so he's less scaly and has like... hair and stuff?

LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! REVIEWS ARE MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN (Not stupid sparkly wannabe vampire failures)!!