Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's stuff. Everything
you don't is property of moi. That is all.
* * *
"There is no such thing as good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it." I was a young boy, only eleven years old, when I heard those words. I did not believe them. In my mind, I believed that good dressed in robes of white, and were always noble and true. Evildoers dressed in black and wished to destroy the values good had worked so hard to build. Warriors of good were not tempted by evil, and always saved the day. At only eleven, I was sure that was how the world worked.
Then I died. My perspective on good and evil changed slightly after that.
Evil people kill, I always believed. But I kill on a nightly basis, and I do not consider myself evil. I am a hunter, and I simply do what I do best: hunt.
At first I did not kill for pleasure; I killed to keep myself alive. The power I felt, however, from killing, was too strong. There's something incredibly electrifying about playing God. The life or death of someone is decided only by you.
Usually I pick death. It's a lot more fun.
You probably have many questions. How did I die? How can I be alive after death? Let me tell you the story. It all begins on a train ride to school.
* * *
I had just stepped onto the platform 9 ¾ when I heard someone call my name. "Harry!" I spun around and there stood my friend Ron, running up to be with his luggage cart. "Hey, Harry," he said, grinning. "How was your summer?"
"Don't ask," I replied. The Dursleys had been horrid, as usual. "Yours?"
Ron shrugged. "OK, I guess. Have you seen Hermione?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. She said she was coming back from New York a few days before school started."
The train whistle blew, and Ron and I boarded the Hogwarts Express. We sat in our usual compartment and waited for the train to leave the station.
From the hall rang cries of "Excuse me-pardon me-terribly sorry- excuse me-" Ron and I exchanged a confused look.
Suddenly, the train shifted, and a beautiful girl was thrust in the doorway of our compartment. Her hair was the color of rich chocolate and shoulder-length; her eyes were the same deep brown shade, framed by delicate eyelashes; her lips were full and the color of roses. She was dressed in Hogwarts robes, but I didn't recall seeing her before. Her head turned and she smiled at me.
"Hello, Harry," she greeted me. "Hi, Ron." It took me a moment to realize who it was.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking astonished. She smiled and sat down beside me on the train. Our friend looked between us, and appeared to misread our looks of amazement.
"You- you like it, don't you?" she asked nervously. "In New York, I was just looking around in a beauty salon, and well- I thought it would be fun."
I blinked, trying to clear my head enough to answer her. "You look very nice," I told her, and she smiled. It was very strange; apart from the Yule Ball last year, I'd never seen Hermione look like a real girl before.
"Thanks. Ooh, did I tell you?" she inquired, pulling an envelope from her robes. "I'm a Prefect!" She held out the letter and passed it to me to read.
"What else is new?" Ron wondered, rolling his eyes. "You'd die of shock if you didn't become one." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but not in an angry way. More playful-like.
I looked up from the letter. Was Ron flirting with her? Unusual things happen at Hogwarts, but Ron and Hermione flirting would definitely be one of the more peculiar things. I passed the letter to Ron.
A few hours we arrived at the school. The Sorting and the feast went quickly, probably because I wasn't paying attention. I kept sneaking looks at Hermione. She was so pretty now. But, thinking back, she wasn't exactly a hag before. I just never noticed before.
The feast ended, and Hermione said good-bye to us to show the new Gryffindors to the House. Ron and I got ready to leave.
"So, Hermione," I began, not knowing exactly what to say. Ron nodded.
"I know what you mean," Ron said. "It's bizarre."
We began to walk to our House. "It's like she's a whole new person," I told him. "Maybe-"
"Maybe what?"
I lowered my head, looking at my shoes. I mumbled, "Maybe I could ask her out."
Ron gave me a sly look. "What, Harry? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."
Glaring at Ron, I said again, "Maybe I could ask her out." I looked up at Ron. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"
"Me? No." He paused. "You should go for it, Harry. Who knows, she might like you back."
* * *
School began the next. It was just like last year, mostly. Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quidditch practice. What I dreaded most of all was Divination.
It seemed that Professor Trelawney had become even more obsessed with predicting my death over the summer. After working on tiromancy (telling the future by studying the holes in cheese-very boring) for a few weeks, we began working with Tarot cards. We started with the basic reading.
"You take six cards from the deck," she explained in her usual misty tone. "You flip each one over, one by one. The first two cards is the past, the second two the present, and the third two the future. I shall demonstrate." I sighed as I watched her walk over to me and grab my deck. Ron took out a piece of paper. We were keeping score on how many times she'd predict my death; seven times in the first six weeks.
Professor Trelawney took six cards. She flipped over two. "Ah, the Strength Card," she said, holding it up to show the class. "This refers to someone who is a Leo, born during the month of July." She looked at me. "Which you are?"
"Yes," I replied. Wow, she actually got something right. She picked up another card. "The Devil Card," she said dramatically, brandishing the car around. "It means you have caused much trouble. Correct, Mr. Potter?"
"Depends what you mean by trouble," Ron told her shrewdly. Professor Trelawney ignored him as she drew another card.
"The Moon," said the Professor as showed me. "Have you made any romantic decisions lately?"
Someone giggled and I felt everyone's head turn to look at me. It was bizarre that she said that, because she was actually right; yesterday I'd promised Ron I'd finally ask out Hermione, mostly so I would stop bothering him. "I hope you made the right choice," she told me serenely as she drew another card. I suddenly had the urge to snatch the entire deck from her and tear the cards into little pieces.
"Can anyone tell me what this one is called?" Professor Trelawney inquired, displaying the card. Lavender Brown raised her hand.
"The Tower," she told the teacher. "It means a major change in your life that you have no control over."
"Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor," the teacher answered. She drew another card and gasped. I knew what it was before she said anything.
"This card-it is Death!" she cried. Several people gasped. I began to laugh quietly as Ron put another checkmark on our Death Predictor. Professor Trelawney drew one more.
"The Hanged Man," she whispered. Everyone's eyes turned to her, including mine and Ron's. "It is the reversal of self. You shall become the opposite of what you are, do something completely unlike yourself ." The incense rose around her in thick clouds as the candle flames reflected in her glasses. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. For a moment I almost believed her reading was going to come true.
"That was weird," Ron said as we descended from her class to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "How are you the opposite of yourself AFTER death?"
"Maybe I'm a ghost?" I wondered seriously.
"I'm sure Moaning Myrtle would share her toilet with you," Ron said sarcastically. I laughed and felt more reassured; Professor Trelawney was always wrong. Why would she be right now?
We met up with Hermione by the Ancient Runes room. She waved to us, and I felt my cheeks get a little hotter. It's Hermione! I told myself. You know, your best friend?
"Hi," she greeted us. "How was Divination?" She said the word with just a little loathing.
"Pretty good," I answered. "I'm going to die. How about you?"
"Well, we've started a new set of rune patterns from Egypt, which I studied while I was in New York, at one the museums. I got to answer a lot of questions, and I earned Gryffindor twenty points!" Hermione grinned. She looks really cute when she gets excited, I noticed.
Stop! Bad thoughts, Harry!
We continued to lunch when Ron stopped walking. "Damn! I left something in the dorm." He gave me a knowing look. No, Ron, I thought. Don't leave! I can't ask her NOW!
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing important. Uh, you two go on without me. I'll catch up with you later." He began to run down the hall.
"Strange," Hermione murmured, watching him run down the hall.
"Let's keep walking, shall we?" She continued to watch Ron until he turned a corner, then we continued to the Great Hall. Neither of us said anything for a while.
"Er, Hermione," I began, prepared to ask her. She turned to me and I froze. "Never mind."
"No, no," she insisted, her face curious. "Tell me. What were you going to say?"
"I just wanted to know- if I could borrow one of your quills," I said quickly. She looked puzzled, but began to reach into her bag.
"No, that's not what I meant!" I exclaimed. God, why was this so hard? Why couldn't I just say it? Why did she have to look so pretty and have such shiny rose-colored lips?
"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione inquired. "Do you feel ill?"
"I-I just wanted to know if you'd, er, be my girlfriend." I looked at my feet and waited for her response.
"Harry." I closed my eyes for a moment. The way she said my name hurt; not in a "yes-let's-go-steady" way, but in an "I'm-trying-very-hard- not-to-break-your-heart" way. I looked up into her pained face. "Harry, I'm sorry. I- I just don't feel that way about you. I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you."
"Well, it's too bloody late for that, isn't it?" I snapped. I stormed away from her.
"Harry? Harry!" she called, but I ignored her as I went out onto the grounds. I had lost my appetite.
"Didn't like her that much anyway," I muttered as I walked past the lake. I picked up a stone and tossed it in the lake, watching it sink to the bottom. Lifting my head, I looked over into the woods that bordered Hogwarts from the rest of the world. Despite the fact I knew I'd get in a lot of trouble, I decided to head into the forest for a while, to clear my mind.
The trees of the forest grew together so thickly that besides a few beams of sunlight, it was almost completely black. I walked along, taking solace in the stillness. The only sound was my feet crunching on the fallen leaves of early autumn.
Screw Hermione, I thought. I'm Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Plenty of girls would go out with me.
Suddenly a voice interrupted my thoughts. ~Who dares to enter the dark forest during the daytime?~.
I whirled around. No one had spoken the voice, but in my mind I'd heard it as clear as day. "Hello?" I called. "Hello?"
~Harry Potter~, the voice said again. It was deep and feminine. ~How kind of you to enter our forest. I was beginning to get hungry.~
"Who are you?" I shouted, feeling fearful. I covered it up by shouting louder. "Who are you?"
~I am that feeling of fear snaking up your spine~. Cruel laughter entered my head as I felt coldness slither up my back. ~ My name is Thekla. I can smell your fear, Harry Potter. You smell good.~
The air in front of me rippled, and a woman appeared. She was tall and slender, with midnight hair and eyes. She wore a long dress of red silk and an ebony velvet cloak over it.
"What are you doing in the woods during the day?" Thekla inquired. "Don't you have school?" She smiled, and my head began to ache. "Someone hurt you today," she said. "Poor boy." A small beam of sunlight penetrated through the thicket of trees, reflecting off her two needlelike fangs.
She's a vampire, I realized.
"That's right," she replied. "An actual vampire." It occurred to me that I should run away, very fast. Just as I started to back away, I heard the word ~Freeze~ in my mind. I stopped, and try as I might, I could not move.
"I may be the luckiest vampire in the world," she told me as she walked toward me. "I've always wanted to taste the Boy Who Lived." I closed my eyes. Sweat dripped down my face from fear and the effort to move.
Her fangs became longer than they already were, until they pressed into their lower lip. She immersed them in my neck. I felt a sudden burst of pain, but it dulled quickly. ~Relax, and it won't hurt~, she told me. I unfroze, and she caught my body.
I was drifting, floating in a pure white place. There was no pain or fear. The only sensation I knew was a sense of emptiness, as my body was depleted of its blood. Everything became darker. I'd felt the sensation of dying before, but obviously I'd never gone through with it.
~Do you wish to live?~ Thekla asked me. I desperately wanted to live. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. In my head, I simply thought, Yes.
I surrounded in blackness, no longer floating, but staying still, waiting. Pain filled my neck and my heart beat frantically from fear and loss of blood. A taste entered my mouth. Blood. The thought of drinking blood was disgusting for a moment, but then I tasted how sweet it was. My body tingled, and it left me with a feeling I'd never known; a feeling of unstoppable, unconquerable power.
The sensation didn't last long. My last thought before I fell unconscious was that Professor Trelawney had actually gotten the prediction right.
* * *
"There is no such thing as good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it." I was a young boy, only eleven years old, when I heard those words. I did not believe them. In my mind, I believed that good dressed in robes of white, and were always noble and true. Evildoers dressed in black and wished to destroy the values good had worked so hard to build. Warriors of good were not tempted by evil, and always saved the day. At only eleven, I was sure that was how the world worked.
Then I died. My perspective on good and evil changed slightly after that.
Evil people kill, I always believed. But I kill on a nightly basis, and I do not consider myself evil. I am a hunter, and I simply do what I do best: hunt.
At first I did not kill for pleasure; I killed to keep myself alive. The power I felt, however, from killing, was too strong. There's something incredibly electrifying about playing God. The life or death of someone is decided only by you.
Usually I pick death. It's a lot more fun.
You probably have many questions. How did I die? How can I be alive after death? Let me tell you the story. It all begins on a train ride to school.
* * *
I had just stepped onto the platform 9 ¾ when I heard someone call my name. "Harry!" I spun around and there stood my friend Ron, running up to be with his luggage cart. "Hey, Harry," he said, grinning. "How was your summer?"
"Don't ask," I replied. The Dursleys had been horrid, as usual. "Yours?"
Ron shrugged. "OK, I guess. Have you seen Hermione?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. She said she was coming back from New York a few days before school started."
The train whistle blew, and Ron and I boarded the Hogwarts Express. We sat in our usual compartment and waited for the train to leave the station.
From the hall rang cries of "Excuse me-pardon me-terribly sorry- excuse me-" Ron and I exchanged a confused look.
Suddenly, the train shifted, and a beautiful girl was thrust in the doorway of our compartment. Her hair was the color of rich chocolate and shoulder-length; her eyes were the same deep brown shade, framed by delicate eyelashes; her lips were full and the color of roses. She was dressed in Hogwarts robes, but I didn't recall seeing her before. Her head turned and she smiled at me.
"Hello, Harry," she greeted me. "Hi, Ron." It took me a moment to realize who it was.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking astonished. She smiled and sat down beside me on the train. Our friend looked between us, and appeared to misread our looks of amazement.
"You- you like it, don't you?" she asked nervously. "In New York, I was just looking around in a beauty salon, and well- I thought it would be fun."
I blinked, trying to clear my head enough to answer her. "You look very nice," I told her, and she smiled. It was very strange; apart from the Yule Ball last year, I'd never seen Hermione look like a real girl before.
"Thanks. Ooh, did I tell you?" she inquired, pulling an envelope from her robes. "I'm a Prefect!" She held out the letter and passed it to me to read.
"What else is new?" Ron wondered, rolling his eyes. "You'd die of shock if you didn't become one." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but not in an angry way. More playful-like.
I looked up from the letter. Was Ron flirting with her? Unusual things happen at Hogwarts, but Ron and Hermione flirting would definitely be one of the more peculiar things. I passed the letter to Ron.
A few hours we arrived at the school. The Sorting and the feast went quickly, probably because I wasn't paying attention. I kept sneaking looks at Hermione. She was so pretty now. But, thinking back, she wasn't exactly a hag before. I just never noticed before.
The feast ended, and Hermione said good-bye to us to show the new Gryffindors to the House. Ron and I got ready to leave.
"So, Hermione," I began, not knowing exactly what to say. Ron nodded.
"I know what you mean," Ron said. "It's bizarre."
We began to walk to our House. "It's like she's a whole new person," I told him. "Maybe-"
"Maybe what?"
I lowered my head, looking at my shoes. I mumbled, "Maybe I could ask her out."
Ron gave me a sly look. "What, Harry? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."
Glaring at Ron, I said again, "Maybe I could ask her out." I looked up at Ron. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"
"Me? No." He paused. "You should go for it, Harry. Who knows, she might like you back."
* * *
School began the next. It was just like last year, mostly. Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quidditch practice. What I dreaded most of all was Divination.
It seemed that Professor Trelawney had become even more obsessed with predicting my death over the summer. After working on tiromancy (telling the future by studying the holes in cheese-very boring) for a few weeks, we began working with Tarot cards. We started with the basic reading.
"You take six cards from the deck," she explained in her usual misty tone. "You flip each one over, one by one. The first two cards is the past, the second two the present, and the third two the future. I shall demonstrate." I sighed as I watched her walk over to me and grab my deck. Ron took out a piece of paper. We were keeping score on how many times she'd predict my death; seven times in the first six weeks.
Professor Trelawney took six cards. She flipped over two. "Ah, the Strength Card," she said, holding it up to show the class. "This refers to someone who is a Leo, born during the month of July." She looked at me. "Which you are?"
"Yes," I replied. Wow, she actually got something right. She picked up another card. "The Devil Card," she said dramatically, brandishing the car around. "It means you have caused much trouble. Correct, Mr. Potter?"
"Depends what you mean by trouble," Ron told her shrewdly. Professor Trelawney ignored him as she drew another card.
"The Moon," said the Professor as showed me. "Have you made any romantic decisions lately?"
Someone giggled and I felt everyone's head turn to look at me. It was bizarre that she said that, because she was actually right; yesterday I'd promised Ron I'd finally ask out Hermione, mostly so I would stop bothering him. "I hope you made the right choice," she told me serenely as she drew another card. I suddenly had the urge to snatch the entire deck from her and tear the cards into little pieces.
"Can anyone tell me what this one is called?" Professor Trelawney inquired, displaying the card. Lavender Brown raised her hand.
"The Tower," she told the teacher. "It means a major change in your life that you have no control over."
"Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor," the teacher answered. She drew another card and gasped. I knew what it was before she said anything.
"This card-it is Death!" she cried. Several people gasped. I began to laugh quietly as Ron put another checkmark on our Death Predictor. Professor Trelawney drew one more.
"The Hanged Man," she whispered. Everyone's eyes turned to her, including mine and Ron's. "It is the reversal of self. You shall become the opposite of what you are, do something completely unlike yourself ." The incense rose around her in thick clouds as the candle flames reflected in her glasses. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. For a moment I almost believed her reading was going to come true.
"That was weird," Ron said as we descended from her class to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "How are you the opposite of yourself AFTER death?"
"Maybe I'm a ghost?" I wondered seriously.
"I'm sure Moaning Myrtle would share her toilet with you," Ron said sarcastically. I laughed and felt more reassured; Professor Trelawney was always wrong. Why would she be right now?
We met up with Hermione by the Ancient Runes room. She waved to us, and I felt my cheeks get a little hotter. It's Hermione! I told myself. You know, your best friend?
"Hi," she greeted us. "How was Divination?" She said the word with just a little loathing.
"Pretty good," I answered. "I'm going to die. How about you?"
"Well, we've started a new set of rune patterns from Egypt, which I studied while I was in New York, at one the museums. I got to answer a lot of questions, and I earned Gryffindor twenty points!" Hermione grinned. She looks really cute when she gets excited, I noticed.
Stop! Bad thoughts, Harry!
We continued to lunch when Ron stopped walking. "Damn! I left something in the dorm." He gave me a knowing look. No, Ron, I thought. Don't leave! I can't ask her NOW!
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing important. Uh, you two go on without me. I'll catch up with you later." He began to run down the hall.
"Strange," Hermione murmured, watching him run down the hall.
"Let's keep walking, shall we?" She continued to watch Ron until he turned a corner, then we continued to the Great Hall. Neither of us said anything for a while.
"Er, Hermione," I began, prepared to ask her. She turned to me and I froze. "Never mind."
"No, no," she insisted, her face curious. "Tell me. What were you going to say?"
"I just wanted to know- if I could borrow one of your quills," I said quickly. She looked puzzled, but began to reach into her bag.
"No, that's not what I meant!" I exclaimed. God, why was this so hard? Why couldn't I just say it? Why did she have to look so pretty and have such shiny rose-colored lips?
"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione inquired. "Do you feel ill?"
"I-I just wanted to know if you'd, er, be my girlfriend." I looked at my feet and waited for her response.
"Harry." I closed my eyes for a moment. The way she said my name hurt; not in a "yes-let's-go-steady" way, but in an "I'm-trying-very-hard- not-to-break-your-heart" way. I looked up into her pained face. "Harry, I'm sorry. I- I just don't feel that way about you. I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you."
"Well, it's too bloody late for that, isn't it?" I snapped. I stormed away from her.
"Harry? Harry!" she called, but I ignored her as I went out onto the grounds. I had lost my appetite.
"Didn't like her that much anyway," I muttered as I walked past the lake. I picked up a stone and tossed it in the lake, watching it sink to the bottom. Lifting my head, I looked over into the woods that bordered Hogwarts from the rest of the world. Despite the fact I knew I'd get in a lot of trouble, I decided to head into the forest for a while, to clear my mind.
The trees of the forest grew together so thickly that besides a few beams of sunlight, it was almost completely black. I walked along, taking solace in the stillness. The only sound was my feet crunching on the fallen leaves of early autumn.
Screw Hermione, I thought. I'm Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Plenty of girls would go out with me.
Suddenly a voice interrupted my thoughts. ~Who dares to enter the dark forest during the daytime?~.
I whirled around. No one had spoken the voice, but in my mind I'd heard it as clear as day. "Hello?" I called. "Hello?"
~Harry Potter~, the voice said again. It was deep and feminine. ~How kind of you to enter our forest. I was beginning to get hungry.~
"Who are you?" I shouted, feeling fearful. I covered it up by shouting louder. "Who are you?"
~I am that feeling of fear snaking up your spine~. Cruel laughter entered my head as I felt coldness slither up my back. ~ My name is Thekla. I can smell your fear, Harry Potter. You smell good.~
The air in front of me rippled, and a woman appeared. She was tall and slender, with midnight hair and eyes. She wore a long dress of red silk and an ebony velvet cloak over it.
"What are you doing in the woods during the day?" Thekla inquired. "Don't you have school?" She smiled, and my head began to ache. "Someone hurt you today," she said. "Poor boy." A small beam of sunlight penetrated through the thicket of trees, reflecting off her two needlelike fangs.
She's a vampire, I realized.
"That's right," she replied. "An actual vampire." It occurred to me that I should run away, very fast. Just as I started to back away, I heard the word ~Freeze~ in my mind. I stopped, and try as I might, I could not move.
"I may be the luckiest vampire in the world," she told me as she walked toward me. "I've always wanted to taste the Boy Who Lived." I closed my eyes. Sweat dripped down my face from fear and the effort to move.
Her fangs became longer than they already were, until they pressed into their lower lip. She immersed them in my neck. I felt a sudden burst of pain, but it dulled quickly. ~Relax, and it won't hurt~, she told me. I unfroze, and she caught my body.
I was drifting, floating in a pure white place. There was no pain or fear. The only sensation I knew was a sense of emptiness, as my body was depleted of its blood. Everything became darker. I'd felt the sensation of dying before, but obviously I'd never gone through with it.
~Do you wish to live?~ Thekla asked me. I desperately wanted to live. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. In my head, I simply thought, Yes.
I surrounded in blackness, no longer floating, but staying still, waiting. Pain filled my neck and my heart beat frantically from fear and loss of blood. A taste entered my mouth. Blood. The thought of drinking blood was disgusting for a moment, but then I tasted how sweet it was. My body tingled, and it left me with a feeling I'd never known; a feeling of unstoppable, unconquerable power.
The sensation didn't last long. My last thought before I fell unconscious was that Professor Trelawney had actually gotten the prediction right.