Blood Mage

Chapter One

Disclaimer: If it ain't owned by J.K. Rowling, then it's mine.

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Harry watched as blood pooled around his battered form. I may have protection from Voldemort, he thought to himself, but what does that mean for the ones inside the barrier with me? He coughed laboriously, feeling blood well up in his throat, choking him further. He felt his magical core activating, trying to save his life.

"Well, boy, I guess this is the end for you," a gleeful voice commented. Harry opened his eyes and gazed at his uncle from the floor, wondering, as block spots appeared in his vision, why his uncle had a knife. He felt the blade cut deeply into his skin but never cried out. "Goodbye, freak."

A soft smile came to Harry's face as he looked at a hand being held out to him. "Siri?" he questioned softly, looking up into blue eyes and a face which had the years in Azkaban erased.

"It isn't your time, Harry. Stop taking this punishment. It isn't meant for one so pure of heart. You are not to blame for my passing. It was my fault alone because of my carelessness with facing Bellatrix. She only fired a stunner, Harry."

"Sirius…" Harry whispered, still trying to reach for the Animagus.

"Harry…Prongslet… Let your magic loose. Let it save you." The man's face was sad, a tear slipping down his cheek. "People will not be safer without you. Without you, the ultimate evil will have free feign over the entire world, Harry. Only you can kill him; you know this. Don't let us down, Harry. Your mum, dad, and I love you dearly and want you to grow old and gray. We love you…"

"I love you, too…" With that, Sirius faded and Harry released control of his power.

Vernon, from Harry's door, turned to face the boy when a sound like sizzling reached his ears. He really is a freak! the fat man thought before a crimson whip slashed his stomach open, spilling his innards to the floor.

"Goodbye, Uncle," Harry said coldly as all of his wounds healed with the speed of sound. How nice of my magic to heal me with the thinnest scars possible. Thank you, he thought fondly before going downstairs to see to the end of his aunt and cousin.

--

Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Light, sat at his desk in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts when one of his many instruments started making an awful racket before melting. The old man knew he would have to be extra careful with his weapon then. What he didn't know was that his weapon was out of his grasp already and had been since the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

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Harry felt the power within his body grow by leaps and bounds with the death of his last blood relatives. "Have fun with their souls, Mum," he whispered before banishing their remains. I'm gong to have to be quick with this, he realized as he took hold of his wand and watched the wood burn away from the core. As the feather caught fire, he pressed it, tip first, into his chest to his heart. "Now this is pain," he groaned, but still never cried out. "I hope my alcohol tolerance is this high."

Gasping, he utilized his book-learned Occlumency to force the pain away, while digging through the kitchen for bacon and eggs. With a sigh, he said, "Not that I'm happy about killing, but I'm glad the Dursleys are gone." Standing, he scribbled a note and sent it to the Order's Headquarters. Moving quickly and easily, he got around the Order members guarding his house. "It's time for a change," he said before a flash of scarlet brought him to Diagon Alley and he quickly made his way to Gringotts. "Griphook," he murmured, tapping the Goblin's desk.

"Mr. Potter, you're just in time for the reading! We thought you weren't going to make it," the Goblin said excitedly, knowing that he could act that way around Harry.

"Reading?"

"Yes," Griphook answered, leading the wizard to a large set of double doors. "Mr. Sirius Black's will, Mr. Potter. We are very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," the boy replied softly.

"If there is anything we can do, let us know. We owe you for finding the loophole in all the laws placed upon us." Harry smiled at the small person before entering the huge room.

"Harry!" Remus exclaimed with a large smile. "It's good to see you in such good health!"

"You, too, Prof…Moony." Harry pulled the werewolf into a hug, knowing that his magic was slowly changing his body to make him strong enough to physically handle his power.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore's voice drifted over to them. "You can't be here; it isn't safe. Voldemort could attack and hurt you and all hope would be lost!"

"Shove off, old man!" Harry shouted at him. "You never cared for my well-being! Don't act like you do! Besides, with my parents, godfather, and relatives – my last line of guardians – gone, I am considered an adult! You can tell me to do nothing!"

Dumbledore slipped a disappointed, grandfatherly expression on his face. "You sadden me, Harry, my boy," he said, hoping to play a guilt trip on the teenager.

"I'm not your boy, Dumbledore, and using guilt against me won't work anymore. We are desecrating Sirius's spirit by having this argument here so sit down, shut up, and keep your damn comments to yourself!" His power exploded from him, shattering the hourglass on the desk across the room. He walked over to the chair a Goblin was gesturing to.

"Now we begin the reading of the will of Sirius Orion Black." The Goblin set out a bowl which Harry recognized as a Pensieve. Sirius came out of it, standing atop the liquid.

"I, Sirius Orion Black, of sound mind – quiet, Remus! – and body, now speak my will. But! For starters – Harry, IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! Now, I give Remus Lupin one million galleons. Buy some robes, Moony. Nymphadora Tonks, I give you one million galleons and welcome you back into the family, along with your mother and father. To Albus Dumbledore, I give you my moldiest socks and warn you to leave my godson alone.

"To the Weasleys, I leave one million galleons for caring for my little Prongslet. Otherwise, stay away from him Ronald Bilius Weasley; you are no friend to spy on him for Dumbledore. Hermione, I leave you two-hundred, fifty thousand galleons. Care for Harry like the brother he is to you and leave Dumbledore.

"Narcissa Malfoy, I, as Head of the House of Black, hereby decree your marriage null and void. Take care of your mother, Draco, with one million galleons to your name.

"And, to finish off, Harry, my little Prongslet…I leave everything left to you. Go out, live! Get a tattoo, get a few piercings…get laid! Moony, teach him to ride Blue Sky! I love you, Harry, Moony, Cissa, Draco…and I don't want to see you for a very long time! Goodbye for now."

"I love you, too, Siri…" Harry choked as the image faded. Standing slowly, he looked over at the two blondes in the room. "Miss Narcissa, Draco, I want no more feuds between you and myself…" A moment later, he felt a warm weight on his left index finger.

"So decreed by the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black… So mote it be," Narcissa and Draco said together before standing.

"Potter…it will take time, but I believe I'll come to like you," Draco said. "I just wish you would've taken my hand those years ago."

"I was over our rivalry when I saw tearstains on your face," Harry admitted, brushing the streaks away. "I regret not taking your hand…but will you take mine?" He held his hand out, prepared for rejection.

Draco smiled before doing so and pulled Harry to him. "Get resorted, snake in lion skin." Harry grinned before nodding, watching as everyone left. "Take care…Harry."

"You, too, Draco!"

"Mr. Potter, please come with me. We need to sort out the terms of your parents' will," the Goblin said from behind him.

"Of course. Thank you, " Harry replied, shocking the creature before following.

--

Two hours later, it was a very shocked Harry Potter who walked out of Gringotts and nearly fell down the stairs. I've got that much! Holy fucking hell! Finally, he shook himself out of his stupor. Time to listen to Sirius, he thought, going to the Wizarding optometrist's office.

When the Boy-Who-Lived returned home, it was in a pair loose-fitting leather pants and a black muscle shirt with two piercings in each ear – two in the right lobe, one in the left, and one in the left's cartilage. There were new tattoos on each of his biceps and one on his back from his belt to halfway up his back.

He had also found a hairstylist and had his hair lengthened to his shoulders, layered, highlighted in midnight blue, streaked in emerald green, and tipped in blood red. An odd combination, but he wasn't really known for being normal.

He was grateful to the optometrist, as well, for correcting his eyesight completely and using certain spells that would give him infrared, night, and x-ray vision with no more than the will for it. He had thought it'd be a wonderful idea because of the fact that there were wizards out to kill him. Also, he had figured, it'd help to get away from his guards.

Wonder who that is, he mused, the sound of footsteps reminding him of just how much his magic had changed him and the fact that it still was. Walking over to the door, he opened it to see Remus Lupin standing with his hand poised to knock. "Who saved us from your transformation?"

"Buckbeak. What did Sirius tell me to do?" the werewolf asked in response, his wand aimed at the seemingly-unarmed Harry.

"Buy robes and teach me to ride Blue Sky." Harry grinned and pulled his ex-professor inside the house. "I'm going to answer your question now. Siri told me to live."

"I understand, Harry, and I'm not going to go crazy like Molly or Hermione. Er…where are the Dursleys?" Remus asked abruptly, looking around for the family of horses and blubber. A sigh pulled his attention back. "Harry?"

"Can I trust you, Moony? Can I trust you completely to know that you will just listen until I'm finished explaining?" Remus contemplated for a few moments before sitting down and giving Harry his full attention. "Thanks, Moony…" Then, the whole story came out. From the beatings by Vernon to the man almost killing him to Sirius coming to him – all the way until that point. "See, Moony? That's why I don't trust anyone and have such a temper…"

"Let me see your tattoos!" Remus suggested, knowing the teen needed a subject change. Harry turned his arms toward his Honorary Godfather. "The kanji for blood?" Harry nodded before pulling the back of his shirt up. There was a beautiful ice-colored dragon, moving as all wizard pictures do. It was sleeping, breathing deeply. Above it read, 'I am the Sleeping Dragon' in Gothic lettering. "That's amazing, Harry! Does it ever wake?" The werewolf was astonished at the amount of detail put into the tattoo.

"Yeah, if he feels like it or I'm feeling a strong emotion. I had him tied to them. I named him Cruor." Remus looked up at him. "Yes, it is Latin for blood, but he likes it." A smile stretched over the dragon's face and one emerald eye opened. "See? I'm feeling really happy right now, so he is, too."

"Wow… He's gorgeous, Harry." Remus ran a finger over the smooth skin, but found himself feeling small elevations in the teen's skin before the shirt could be dropped. "Harry, take your shirt off."

"I'd…rather not."

"You're worrying me, Harry," the ex-professor replied, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. Sighing, Harry removed the clothing in one fluid movement. "Dear God…"

"My magic left the thinnest scars it could. I'm grateful to it for that. It would've been worse had I gone to a doctor, so don't say that I should have." Harry turned away, giving Remus a chance to see a tear fall from Cruor's eye. Reaching over, the sandy-haired man pulled the boy into a hug. "Thank you so much, Remus…"

"Anytime, cub; you are my first priority," he werewolf replied, pulling Harry's shirt back over the fifteen-year-old's head. It was then that he noticed the multiple amount of small scars along the boy's arms; caused, not by Harry, but by his uncle and figured that, if he ever saw them, his legs were the same. I'm so sorry, Harry… he thought, sadly gazing at the marks.

The Boy-Who-Lived gave a genuine smile before going toward the kitchen. "Come on. It's passed dinnertime and I know you haven't eaten."

"You can cook?!"

"Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley certainly couldn't," he answered, gathering steak, potatoes, and green beans from the refrigerator and pantry. "Now, watch a master at work!" he exclaimed dramatically.

--

"Good heavens, Harry! I'd think you really are a master chef if I didn't know better!"

Harry closed his left eye, winking as he said, "Thanks for the compliment." Snapping his fingers, the dishes were clean. "Do you have to go back to Headquarters?"

Remus sighed. "I wish I didn't."

Harry scoffed. "Then don't. It's as easy as that. Dumbledore doesn't rule your life."

Remus mumbled something, forgetting about Harry's soon-to-be-unmatched senses, but was reminded when picture frames exploded. He jumped, staring at the teenager, whose eyes were glowing.

"What?" Harry growled, another glass fixture shattering.

"Dumbledore keeps the Ministry away from me. They know I'm a werewolf but they can't touch me because he's vouching for me. If he knew you told me all this then I didn't tell him…" Harry pulled the werewolf to him, feeling a protective streak surge through him. "See, Harry? I can't do what I want."

"I think my word will matter more to our dear Minister. If he's in my good graces, he'd think he'll be better with Dumbledore, too." The Werewolf looked up toward the ceiling before turning a grateful expression to the boy. "Come on, let's go to bed and we'll visit our esteemed governmental leader tomorrow."

Remus knew that the teen would get angry if he thanked him, so he only smiled. "Show me to a room, Harry."

--

That morning, Remus was in a new set of burgundy, silk robes and Harry in extremely-dark, emerald, silk robes as they walked through the Ministry of Magic. I can't believe he wore his earrings, Remus grumbled laughingly in his thoughts.

The two stepped up the Minister's secretary. "Do you have an appointment, sirs?"

"No, but I think he'll take time to see me," Harry answered, running a hand through his quad-colored hair and making sure to show his scar.

"O-of course, Mr. Potter! Right this way!" The secretary opened the door for them, announcing them to give the Minister time to organize himself.

"Minister Fudge… I see you are in good health," Harry said by way of greeting, mentally laughing when the man's eyes bugged out upon seeing him. "I'm afraid that pleasantries are far from this meeting, however. There is a purpose to my abrupt visit."

"What would that be, Mr. Potter?" Fudge asked sweetly, making the teenager want to puke. "What is that…that…werewolf doing here?!" he shouted, pointing at Remus.

"Why, Minister, that's why I'm here," Harry stated in a carefree yet dangerous voice. "You've not been very kind to my Honorary Godfather at all, have you? I can't stand for this any longer.

"He was to be my guardian if Sirius Black wasn't able to by James and Lily Potter's will…my parents' will. And no! I don't care if he's a werewolf. Remus J. Lupin is a human everyday except for one measly night every month." Harry knew he'd just taken the proverbial wind from the Minister's sails. "You're disappointing me, Minister."

"We…we can certainly have him excused from the laws…" Fudge tried to redeem himself.

"What about he rest of the werewolves, Minister? Why should Remus be treated any better than them? They'll hunt him down and hate the Ministry even more." Harry decided to play his trump card. "Exactly how powerful do you want Voldemort's army to become?" Fudge stuttered, his face frightened. "I'd suggest getting rid of the restrictive laws as soon as possible."

"I-it will be done, Mr. Potter," the Minister said, trying to find a way to get the situation back under his control. "You will, of course, take responsibility, correct?"

"Of course. I'll also be the one known for getting this situation under control in exchange." Harry's smile turned mischievous as he knew Fudge's foundation had been shaken harshly. "I'd be concerned with the other creatures as well, Minister. Good day," he added before sweeping from the room with a wave of his robes.

Remus followed him, hiding his shock until they had left the Ministry. "That was amazing! Shouldn't you be in Slytherin?" he asked jokingly.

"Yes," Harry answered seriously, "If not for Dumbledore's staged acts, that's where I would've been. I am going to send a letter to the Sorting Hat so that I can be placed correctly." Remus stared, shocked, before Harry disappeared in a flash of dark red. The werewolf quickly followed his signature. "Harry! Are you out of your mind?!"

"Maybe, but they can't find me. My wand core and magical core are one, now." The boy winked before stepping into Number Four, Privet Drive. "See Remus, I can handle myself."

--End One--