Childe of Destruction

Summary: This is a story about a hero turning into a "soulless monster" cut into many little pieces. Fragments of a Tale about the life of a murderous prince and the meeting of shattered souls. Harry Potter was turned into a Vampire, however for some reason, he couldn't even be a normal monster either. He became the monster in the monsters' inexistent dreams, somebody who was more deadly than any Vampire ever could.

Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst, Crossover, One-shot

Fandom: Harry Potter/Twilight

Warnings: Slash (with some threesome and other man on man pairings), murder, cruelty, non-explicit blood play, OOC (Well they are in some cases), Dark!Harry

Pairings: Harry/Edward/Surprise, Aro/Marcus, Sanguini/?

Rating: T(For now)M(later)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I still don't own anything or get money for this, but you all know this.

A/N: Hey guys,

Well second present, I hope you'll like it even if the parts are shorter than anything I've ever written. The theme has nothing common with Christmas, but I love writing this story. Every part got its own prompt from words that show up in my mind.

P.S.: Endless Dawn was due to last week, but I couldn't finish it with the present stories in progress, so you'll get it on Monday. Oh and check out my profile if you're interested in my ramblings.

And Merry Christmas to you guys!

Lilith

1. Reborn

It was just another job that earned another day on Earth, nothing else. To tell the truth he didn't even know, when he had sunk to the level of a certain snake-faced monster and turned into a pathetic coward. He should have accepted the inevitable and die as a hero like people expected, but for some reason he just couldn't lay down and let Death claim his soul. He didn't want to die even if technically he was no longer alive either. He was a shadow nothing else, but he could walk among the living and it was the only thing that mattered to him.

An invisible shadow. Well, he really wasn't more, as his friends and loved ones believed him dead. They thought he yielded to Destiny and sacrificed himself for the greater good, so they could live their perfect little life after some mourning and statue rising. It was rather ironic if he thought about it. After all how many people could tell that they watched their own funeral with their own functioning eyes? He was sure not many.

But he was there and watched with a pang of something which weren't exactly sorrow or sadness but indifference either. He felt something when he saw as his pure white and totally empty marble coffin was build over by a statue of a phoenix, but his emotions for his human life weren't strong enough for him to capture. He just watched as his once best friends and other witches and wizards sobbed with grief, but it wasn't enough. He had to see how they would cope with life without him, so he watched over them for almost two weeks with resignation and a twisted kind of curiosity.

He was there and yet he wasn't. He was waiting with patience no mortal could possess; he was waiting for his Master's arrival and reliving some of his faded, already unimportant memories at the same time. It was strange but he couldn't do anything to make the things right. He was dead for them, a mere ghost and remembrance of the past and he knew he should have felt more than the strange sereneness that filled him. Maybe it was because he was actually dead. He wasn't human anymore, so maybe it was common with the children of the night. After all, his Master was a moving, seemingly emotionless statue too...

In the few days he was hiding among humans he heard many scenarios about his demise. Some were outrageously ridiculous, like the ones that said Voldemort blew up the entire ground of Hogwarts just to kill him even if it meant his own death. Others were quite accurate, saying they cast Avada at each other at the same time then just disappeared in some kind of mist. In fact it was Voldemort who casted the killing curse, he himself threw a blasting hex at the Dark Lord but eventually both of them died that day... or he thought so.

However, he woke up three days later to the feeling of immense almost unbearable burning in his throat, giving him the idea he was in the Hell in spite of his heroic sacrifice. Then he saw a somewhat familiar face in front of him, a face ha had ever seen once before, and even though it seemed a bit different than the one that lived in his foggy memory, he was sure he wasn't mistaken.

Silky black hair that reached the man chin; alabaster skin; perfect nose; high cheekbones; a gaze, more beautiful than a flawless onyx gem and the most appetizing smell he'd ever smelt – this picture welcomed his unexpectedly sharp eyesight. Then that heavenly fragrance erased every rational thought from his mind, leaving only agonizing hunger and thirst and he followed his instincts with an animalistic growl. He couldn't see anything other than that alluring snow white neck, peaking from the soft material of a shirt, but it was enough for him to pounce at his pray.

He heard his pray's soft, pained hiss of course, but that divine nectar filled his mouth and blocked all of his other senses. It flowed down his throat in lazy streams, soothing those excruciating flames that wanted to destroy him from inside out. He felt like someone who after an eternity in Hell finally got the chance to enter Heaven, because the angels found him worthy enough to share their blissful ambrosia...

Then everything went black.

A/N: I'm thinking about a pairing for Sanguini. It could be Demetri, but somehow I want it to be Seth. Yes it would be Chan and kind of impossible with the Vampire-Shifter animosity, but in my mind their relationship isn't filled with fluff. It's full of angst and hatred (well from Seth side at first)... hm... maybe I should write a story with that two even if I know almost nothing about Seth because I just can't read the Twilight saga... Btw next chapter is due to tomorrow or even today evening, we'll see.

Prompt: Surreal reality