Ut a curator of insontis , is est meus officium protego qui alius peto ut vulnero tamen vulnero nullus.

(A/N Translation; As a guardian of innocence, it is my duty to protect those who others would seek to harm but have harmed none)

The Prince looked down at his hands as the boy beside him looked on in worry. "Your Majesty?" he said laying a gentle hand on his master's arm, "Help me Samhain" Harry looked into the spirit's eyes and Samhain (pronounced Sowain) was startled to see the helpless look in his emerald eyes. "what can I do?" the spirit asked, unsure of what to do to help his friend and master, "stay" the raven said wrapping his arms around the Sabbath spirit. The spirit was taken aback, unsure of how to react, he folded his chalk white arms around the smaller boy.

How could he do this to him? Sam Harris thought to himself as he held the vampire prince in his arms, the boy had cried himself to sleep in Sam's arms that night, sobbing about how his best friend had not believed him about the goblet of fire. Sam was currently glaring daggers through the crimson hangings of Harry's four-poster at the red head who was responsible for making Harry so upset.

Harry Potter, Prince of the vampires, future King, guardian of the innocent and master of the spirits. Samhain, also known as Sam Harris, had always been close to his master. Harry always said that he saw the spirits as friends rather than servants, but they still called him master and gave him the formal respect he deserved, even if it was unwanted. He encouraged them to call him by his first name, as he did them, he talked to and treated them as equals and refused to give them orders as he was expected to.


Sam was angry, you didn't need to be a genius to tell that. Hermione was worried about the blue eyed boy. He had started at Hogwarts earlier in the year, just before Halloween and he and Harry had known each other for a while before that, but Sam was usually much happier and always looking to make someone smile, usually Harry, but since Halloween Sam had been snappish and sullen. It wasn't until two weeks later that they found out why, but it wasn't how they were expecting it.

"Ron!" a voice called across the common room one evening, "oh, hey Sam, what's up?" Ron said turning to look at the boy who was towering over him, a disturbing look on his face. "Um, Sam, is everything ok?" Hermione asked. "How could you, how could you do that to him?" Sam spat at the red head who leaned away, worried by the behaviour of the other boy, "care to elaborate there Sam?" Ron said as Sam crabbed his collar, "how could you upset him like that? He cried himself to sleep that night!" Sam screamed, throwing Ron away from him so hard that he fell off the sofa, "do you mean Harry?" Hermione whispered, "who else would it be?" Sam continued to glare at Ron, if looks could kill Ron wouldn't just be dead, he'd be obliterated. "Apologise, or bad things will happen Weasley" Sam growled, teeth bared and eyes narrowed as he stormed out of the portrait hole.

"Jesus" Ron whispered, "Sam's right, you should apologise" Hermione said. Ron nodded.