This story is a work of fiction. The characters, real or fictional, have not given me permission to use them, and if I made any profit from this, it'd be violating copyright infringement. But as I'm not, it's all good. If you object to stories of this particular nature, you're in the wrong archive, my friend.
"What was THAT all about," Ron asked Harry.
"I'm not sure," he said with a frown. "But I certainly didn't like it."
"You two talk to Dumbledore and McGonagall," Hermione said. "I want to check something in the library."
"Figures," sighed Ron as she dashed off. "She hasn't changed in five years, Harry. You'd think she'd have every book anyway."
"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry commanded, lifting one of the overturned chairs and placing it back. "Let her go, Ron. Look at what she figured out with all her work in the library. She figured out that Skeeter cow was an unregistered Animagus." Ron nodded grudgingly. "She figured out what the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was."
"Fat lot of good that did," Ron muttered.
Harry grinned and poked him in the stomach. Ron laughed sheepishly and Harry pulled him in for a quick kiss. The kiss lasted longer than he'd originally intended, and when he broke away, he was breathing heavily.
"C'mon, Ron. Help me clean this place up, or McGonagall will kill Matt."
"He deserves it, the wanker."
"And us, too," he added.
Ron's eyes widened. "Good point. Wingardium Leviosa," he added.
While the two set the Gryffindor common room back to normal, Hermione ran to the Chamber, flicking her badge in front of the pipe, which opened soundlessly. Moaning Myrtle watched her, intrigued. After Hermione disappeared down the dark hole, Myrtle floated forward. A brief flash of light struck out, flinging her back.
"Ouch!" She cried, rubbing her smoking nose. Miffed, she returned to her toilet.
Meanwhile, I ended up outside, sitting next to the nearly-frozen lake. I wasn't wearing winter clothes, but I didn't feel cold. My anger radiated off me in waves, slowly causing the ground around me to steam, and taking the frost off the lake's edge.
"What is WRONG with me," I raged. "What's happening?" A thought occurred to me-my house. I could use my casting room in my London house and see what I might discover. A flickering thought of the problems I'd face if I left school grounds crossed my mind, but as I'd been bending or breaking rules since I came to England, I didn't let it bother me in the slightest.
With a thought, I summoned the magic I'd need for a translocation. Instead of just whisking myself away, I opened a dark swirling portal and stepped through. I didn't wind up where I'd planned, however. Rather than ending up in my house, I was where I'd begun at the lake.
My eyes narrowed, and I cast a quick detection to see if anyone had interfered with my magic. I didn't get any form of response. Eventually, my confusion took over my anger, and it faded. I sat by the edge of the lake to think, as had been a habit of mine since I started school-all of six or so months. I looked at the ice-free, softly rippling water, and calmed down. Though past the deepest part of winter, it was still cold except for the ground I'd vented on earlier. That was stripped bare of plant life and was still hot to the touch.
I avoided it and moved to stare at my reflection in the lake. My mouth dropped open when I didn't see one. What was going on? It dawned on me, finally. Vampire blood. Voldemort had done something to me, and I didn't even see what it was until it was too late. I collapsed to my knees. That explained everything! Why I didn't die from the Nightshade, and why I didn't feel cold. Why I couldn't get into the Chamber of Secrets or my own house.
There had to be some kind of cure. And I had to find it quickly. How long would it be before the Thirst took over, and I'd be left with nothing but an all-consuming hunger? They would be forced to destroy me to protect the students, and then Voldemort would surely win.
I trudged back to the castle and through the passages. Doorways opened before me, and students avoided me. I finally came to the Fat Lady, who gave me one look and squeaked as she opened the door, without asking for a password.
The common room had been repaired and was dark and empty except for one person: Hermione. She stood from the chair nearest the fire once I'd entered. "Matt," she said gravely, "we need to talk."
I blinked. A confrontation? The foolish girl! My anger flared, and alarmed, I reined it in sharply.
Off to my right, from the stairwell to the boys' dormitories I heard someone shout "Aramashe majicus!" I whirled to see Harry, his wand extended and pointing at me. I my anger rushed out again, ripping its way past my controls and I snarled. My vision turned red, and I felt my teeth growing into fangs, changing the whole shape of my face.
On my left, Ron cried, "Petrificus Totalus!" To my surprise, my muscles all froze, binding my arms and legs together. I fell back with a jolt, though with my muscles numbed, I didn't feel the blow.
"I'm sorry, Matt," Hermione began, "but I needed to talk." I blinked in confusion. She nodded as though reading my mind. "As to how we got past your defenses, it was the book you gave me. There was a spell in there that claimed to be able to penetrate any spell-shield." She frowned. "Luckily, Harry was able to cast it."
She sighed, and pulled over a chair to look down on me at the floor. Ron and Harry pulled over two more, and the triad faced me. "Matt," Hermione began, "I know what happened to you."
Harry and Ron nodded uncomfortably. "We've seen you changing, Matt," Ron said. "You were arrogant before, but you tried to cover it. Now it's like you don't even bother," he added angrily. "What makes you think you're so much better than us, huh? I thought you were a friend, you bastard!"
Harry put a calming hand on his friend's arm. "We followed you because you were a good leader, Matt. You knew so much. You were so genuinely concerned for us. You risked yourself for me. You taught us a lot. But you're not that Matt any more." He wasn't angry. He was sad. That was different than I expected.
"Matt, I know how to cure you," Hermione said, cutting straight to the point. "But I'm not sure how easy it will be, and like it or not, you can't do it alone." She looked at the others, who nodded-Ron reluctantly. "We will help you through it, because of what you've done. But, you must ASK us for help. We were impressed before. We needed you. Now you need us. No more ordering anyone around." Her face and voice softened. "I know you're not trying to be mean by this, Matt, but you must learn to trust your friends. We're your friends, and we'll be your friends for a long time, if you'll let us. But friends must be willing to give and take."
I blinked my eyes a few more times. They rose. "We'll leave you here to think about it tonight. The spell will wear off by morning. Good night."
Harry looked suddenly very tired, and Ron half-supported him as they ascended the stairs. Hermione gave me one last look before she, too, went to bed. The lights in the common room slowly went out, leaving only the fire in the fireplace.
I lay on the floor, unable to move, unable to even feel the tears running down my cheeks.
The next morning dawned, and Harry and Ron, dressed in casual clothes hurried down to the common room. Their eyes immediately searched the floor for me. I wasn't where they'd left me, and they seemed surprised by it. They turned to go up the stairs again, ready to look for me dormitory by dormitory, but Ron crashed into some invisible barrier.
A chair in front of the fireplace-the same one Hermione'd sat in the night before-lifted gently into the air and turned around to face them. I sat in the chair, effortlessly guiding its movements. They both paled, and Ron aimed his wand at me, thrusting himself between Harry and myself.
I grinned mirthlessly. "How noble," I hissed. "Not that it would do you any good, Mr. Weasley." He lifted into the air, his expression one of panic, and Harry lifted away from him. They reached for each other, but as their hands were about to touch, I made a curt motion with my left hand, and they were hurled away from each other.
"Well now," I gloated. My voice had changed, not that I particularly noticed, nor would I care if I had. It had become deeper, more mellifluous. It was insinuating and smooth. It was frightening and powerful and awe-inspiring all at the same time. "I have here two more people who claimed friendship with me. What shall I do with them, I wonder?"
Ron aimed his wand. "Impedimentia!"
Nothing happened.
"Stupefy!!"
Nothing happened.
"Aramashe majicus!"
Nothing happened.
"Expelliarmus," I whispered. Ron's wand flew out of his hand and into mine, sending him flying into the barrier with a thud.
"No! Ron," Harry yelled.
"So, you still care for him, even after what he did to you," I murmured.
"What do you mean, what he did to me," Harry demanded.
"Please, Harry," I dismissed. "Don't think me stupid. Do you think I don't know how much it hurt?"
"Wha-what do you mean?"
"Don't play the fool with me!" I snapped. "Even now, it hurts whenever he enters you, doesn't it?"
His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed-with anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. "That isn't any of your business," he returned.
"Strange how he embraces pain and pushes away the one who would spare him from pain," I whispered loud enough to be heard.
"What are you talking about?"
I shook my head. "Apparently, you no longer have any respect for me or my abilities at all." My eyes darkened, sinking into my skin, which was beginning to shrivel.
His mouth opened in a soundless scream as a cadaver with lanky hair and elongated canines formed in front of him. My hand stretched toward him, beckoning.
"No!"
Claws grew from my fingertips, and my clothes grew ragged around me. The stench of death filled the room. "THIS is what I have become now, you stupid boy," I rattled. The beauty of the voice was gone, replaced by a bone-chilling rasp as air tried to move dead muscles in my voice box.
"This is impossible! EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He roared, pointing his wand at me. A large silvery stag leaped out and tried to attack me. I blew on it, and it vanished in smoke.
"Look well, Harry," I mocked, my voice fading away. "See what you have made and remember. Hope, my dear boy, that the Chamber will protect you, for I no longer will." The flesh crumbled into ash, and the bones of my body began to snap.
"Fine," he roared in anger. "I don't need you!" He pulled my fire wand out of his belt, and aimed it at me. "Necro fornare immolatus," he screamed. A ball of roiling purple flames leaped from its tip and slammed into the remains of the corpse in front of him, shattering it to pieces, but leaving the chair unharmed.
"Well done," my disembodied voice mocked. "Look well upon what you have unleashed." The ashes coalesced to show Hermione's face locked in a rictus of terror: frozen so in death.
"NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" He screamed.
My laughter filled the room while Harry knelt and wept.
"Harry," Ron murmured. "Harry, you must wake up!" He shook his boyfriend, to no avail. Ron looked at Harry's tear-streaked face, concerned. "Harry, please," he moaned.
Harry's cry had woken up all the others in the dormitory. Neville sat up straight, his eyes wide. Seamus was looking around. "Wha-wha-wha's going on," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.
"Something's wrong with Harry," Ron said.
"It looks like he's having a nightmare," Dean said dismissively, stifling a yawn.
"But he's not waking up," Ron fretted. In his worry, he climbed into Harry's bed and held him close, heedless of the others. Dean smirked and Neville smiled. Seamus didn't notice, as he went back to sleep.
My laughter rang through the room. "This is your fault, Potter. What would your parents think," I gloated. Ron lifted into the air again. "Harry," I asked almost conversationally, "do you know what happened to Neville's parents?"
His head stayed lowered, weeping over Hermione.
"Harry," Ron called weakly.
Harry didn't hear him.
"Harry, please," he moaned.
"Tsk tsk," I chuckled. "CRUCIO!"
Ron screamed in agony as every nerve in his body exploded in pain.
THAT jerked Harry away from the fallen. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of my voice, but all he could see was Ron's floating, shaking form.
"Finite incantatum," he cried, pointing his wand at Ron.
Nothing happened.
"Please, Matt," he begged, "stop!"
"Please, Matt," he murmured against Ron's chest, "stop!"
"Hush, Harry," Ron said, rubbing his hand down Harry's back. "Matt's locked downstairs. He can't move. Don't worry, Harry." Ron's tears trickled down his face as he hugged Harry closer. "Please, Harry, wake up."
From the Dark Forest, I let the spells forcing Harry to stay in the nightmare drop and wandered, lost in my thoughts. I was pleased at the result of my spells, yet some small part of me was horrified and screamed at me to wake up. I ruthlessly crushed it.
Before I was aware of what had happened, I found myself surrounded by giant spiders^×each of them the size of a Labrador. "Aragog," I called out, "I recommend you call back your children." Silence answered me. "If you don't you won't have any!" They spiders came on, their mandibles clicking anxiously. "So be it." I took a deep breath and spat out a black cloud of noxious fumes. As it passed over the spiders, their legs curled under them and they died. The cloud grew and spread throughout the forest, withering plants and killing all animals that didn't run from it.
I looked at the destruction I'd caused and something in me broke. Weak, I sank to my knees. Without my direction, I found my hands moving, drawing a circle on the ground, and within the circle lay a pentagram, rectangle and circle, all concentric. I tried to take control over my limbs, but they refused me. They pressed into the ashy loam, digging deep, and the circle pulsed silver against the darkness of the Forest.
From the silence, a soft chanting began:
"Agnus Dei...
Agnus Dei...
Dona nobis pacem...
Agnus Dei...
Agnus Dei...
Dona eis requiem..."
The circle pulsed brighter as the chanting filled the forest, driving away the fear of the woods with its own haunting sound. Subconsciously, I recognized the feel of High Magic. Strange how much it resembles prayer...
"In pacem...
Aeterna pacem...
In pacem...*"
I felt a wrenching inside me, and with a cry of pain, the circle flared with blinding light. I experienced a sensation of pulling, and when the light cleared, I shakingly stood. Directly in front of me, someone else was doing the same thing as I. I looked at him. He stood about my height and wore clothes of the purest white. His hair was gold, and his eyes a bright green. At his side was strapped a sword made of silvery metal, resembling Excalibur. Once I saw his face clearly, I bit back a snarl. He looked just like me!
It was then I chanced to look down at myself. I was entirely in black, with an identical sword strapped to my waist, though it was black as night. I grinned, feeling my fangs brush my lower lip as power coursed through me and my eyes glowed bloodred.
I itched with the desire to destroy this doppelganger, so I readied a bolt of lightning and fired. As it left my hands, it proved to be black as a void and cackling with power.
He held out his hands and retaliated with a bolt of lightning that light up the forest. The two bolts met with a crash and vanished. I gaped at my opponent. He looked sad, but his eyes held a firm resolve.
"This must not be," he said in my voice.
"No," I agreed. "You must be destroyed."
"And that is what must not be," he countered sadly. "I will not let you do this."
"Fool," I snarled. "You think you can stop me?" I lashed out with a beam of pure darkness, as I had used against the draconic form of Voldemort. It sucked all the light into it, returning nothing but the sensation of a burning pain.
Again, he calmly raised his hands, and a beam of white fire slashed into mine. The beams met and vanished with a rushing sound and a feel of pulling. I glared at him, my burning eyes intensifying. "DIE!"
He was surrounded by a globe of pure darkness, which slowly began to shrink. But he glowed with an intense blue light, shattering the darkness into shards. With a wave of his hand, I found myself trapped in a sphere of glowing azure light, which constricted, crushing me in its grip. "NO," I cried, summoning all my dark power. It poured out of me, eliminating the trap and allowing me to stand upright.
I called upon that power, and pushed. He flew backwards at my strike, and I used the moment to change. I hunched over in pain, screaming as I felt my back being ripped apart. From my shoulder blades burst a pair of feathered wings, dripping in gore and as black as my clothing. I spread them and waved them around, drying them as I moved. Once they were dry, I took to the sky, drawing my sword and looking over my shoulder for my opponent.
He was only moments behind me, his sword drawn and wings of snowy white on his back. I swore and turned around to rush him. Our swords met with a crash, and sheet lighting flashed across the sky. Thus began the most difficult swordfight I'd ever had. My blade felt weightless, and with my power surging through me, I moved faster than the eye could see, but he was always there, his parry to my strike, his counter to my attack. He went on the offensive, and it was my turn to block with all I had.
Back and forth we fought across the sky, each trying to get past the other's guard, but each knowing what the other was going to do before he did it. Finally, we struck our blades at such an angle that they flew out of our hands at the same time.
I lashed out instantly with an eagle-claw to the throat, but he counter with a hook block and reverse punch. I took his punch across my jaw and spun, bringing both fists into the back of his head. He staggered, and I lashed out with a snap kick. He caught it with a low cross-block and retaliated.
Again, we were too evenly matched; each knowing the required counter for the other's moves and performing them faster than the eye could follow. In the end, I tried to result to brute force. I pulled all of my power into me, focusing it through my vampiric strength and hurled myself at my opponent in a vicious body check.
He did the same and we crashed with a bone-jarring thud. We flapped our wings desperately and pulled away, only to crash into each other again. And again. And again. On the fifth strike, I flapped my wings to pull away, but found I couldn't. He and I had struck too hard to disentangle ourselves and we plummeted toward the ground. As luck would have it, right toward the glowing shape I'd drawn in the dirt.
I closed my eyes when we hit, and suddenly, I felt strange. I opened my eyes to see, but couldn't. The circle no longer glowed, and the forest blocked all light. I stood and found myself dizzy. I also felt some extra weight, and pulled my black cloak aside to find a pair of swords strapped to my waist. One that was silver was on my left, and its shadow on my right. I placed a hand on each hilt and felt the blades thrum with power.
My mind was clear, and I was actually calm. I spoke a single word and felt my power rush into me, though it was under control, and not the same violent torrent it had recently become. As it flooded me, I lifted into the air and made my way to the castle, so I could be there when the others woke up. I had a lot of explaining to do.