Story: Cold Hearted.

Chapter 6: The Reasons He Knew Not.

By: TheLovelessRose

Story Rating: M.

Chapter Rating: T.

Chapter Warnings: Dark themes, Gore, Violence, Sort-of Torture, Annoying Pompous Magical Vampires, and Flashbacks that are very important in the story so you should really read them.

Note: To Fee, the anonymous reviewer, I couldn't have agreed more. I hate the pompous ones as well, but soon you will see how they work, and even see some actually nice ones. I sincerely hope you continue to read.


It was dark, and only a single small flame cast light into the darkest corner of the room.

It wavered as a chilly wind swept through the area, but the hunched figure behind the beaten desk seemed not to notice. There were countless papers everywhere; the entire wall behind him covered with newspaper cutouts and marked in a crimson ink only visible when the light flickered and its shadows danced. It was an almost frightening picture; the teen occupying the desk no older than fourteen reading articles and auror reports with tired, almost crazed eyes.

Harry Potter was reduced to only a fraction of what he originally was and he was so little of anything even before this.

It was reckless, to steal the reports from the ministry considering they would most likely be missed, but it was in his desperation he found the will not to care. He was a boy who had nothing. No family, no loyal friends, and no allies. He was utterly alone, and the only link that seemed to be a light in the darkness of his life was running for his very life. No, he wouldn't let Sirius be taken in and manipulated. Never that; not after what he had already gone through.

The man was insane, that much was apparent. But his mind was healing, however slowly, from his years in prison. It pleased Harry that the man was pulling himself together, but he knew it would make no difference if Dumbledore got what he wanted. And Harry was positive what Dumbledore wanted was Sirius. The only real question was why.

What made the old man so desperate that he took the chance of throwing the man behind bars without a trial? What made him make such a split second decision, such a decision that clearly wasn't integrated into his already pre-determined plans? No, he had not planned to send Sirius into prison; if he did then the whole event would not have had such a paper trail. So what could Sirius have heard or discovered that sent Dumbledore into enough panic to be so sloppy? Oh, how he yearned to know. And this was where it got him.

He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, or even slept or that matter, but it all seemed too much like a blur to him anyway. He had forced himself to classes, never really being there but going through his daily routine with such dullness that he wondered if he was finally loosing it. He never went to anything but his classes, and he had skipped those so many times that there really wasn't much of a point. He would scurry down to the Room of Requirement and stay there until classes would begin again, and he only went to the bare minimum to keep him from expulsion. After-all, he needed the Room for his research.

It had taken up all of his time; all of his energy and every thought he possessed was whirled and riddled with notions of Dumbledore's secrets and conspiracies. How long had Dumbledore gotten away with his manipulations? Was he spelling or cursing anyone into obedience? Or was it simply manipulation so they were devoted and revered him? Did his parents know any of this? Had Dumbledore known about how the Dursley's treated him? About the verbal and the physical abuse? About the endless days he spent wishing he had someone, anyone? Did he know now?

There were too many questions and barely any answers and Harry was sure his mind was fracturing from the onslaught of possibilities and the dullness he felt. Harry could trust no one and that wasn't even exaggerated paranoia. No, no one but Harry could do this. He would get to the bottom of this, and he would find out about what Dumbledore had been hiding from him; what he has been hiding from the world.

And with that thought he hurried back to the Room of Requirement, knowing he wouldn't emerge until late morning for classes.


Finally, Harry thought in an almost happy way. Finally, he had a lead.

He had had to hide out in the room for the whole afternoon because of his annoying 'friends'. They had taken to trying to interrogate him; asking questions he shot down mercilessly. He knew the headmaster was asking about him more, wanting to know what it was he was doing when Dumbledore wasn't able to watch him. Of course, the old fool would never figure it out.

He had started his late night/early morning as usual, with reading the next tome in the library he had created out of the Room Of Requirement. He glared at the book, sending it flying to the ground and hitting the wall with nothing but his will. Slowly, the glare disappeared and he was left staring at it with a cold expression. He didn't know what to feel, or if he was truly feeling at all. Read, study, practice, read study, practice; he did nothing in between other than eating when it was too dangerous not to and sleeping the barest minimum for survival. When it became apparent that the lack of sleep was making his magic dull and his brain useless he would shoot back a potion and force himself to sleep. He had done it so many times it was an almost natural thing now, and he knew he was addicted to sleepless dream potion because of it. But, he just couldn't find it in himself to care too much.

A growl made its way past his lips as he came out o his thoughts, and he stared at the opened book on the floor with emotionless eyes. A sneer on his lips, he called the book to him wandlessly, watching with satisfaction as it flew into his hand. He blinked a moment, the sneer dropping as he eyed the page in which the book had landed, eyeing the blood stains on the weathered parchment and the frailness of the brown-stained binding before reading the words.

Seeing Into The Unknown; Blood Magic Ritual.

His eyes lit up, a sickly dark smile twisting at his lips.

The ritual was on odd one, and surely illegal he though in amusement as he ran his eyes down the page. The ritual would grant him the Sight; it would allow him to see into the future. It would be a great advantage to him if he was able to see into the future, even if it was only glimpses. He could see the outcomes of his plans, and adjust them accordingly. He could know the movements of Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Sirius. He could know of everyone's movements, perhaps even before they knew their own. Yes, it would be most beneficial.

Laughter tearing at his throat, he prepared for the ritual. It would take him a day or so to gather what was required. He would begin tomorrow night.


He gasped for breath, a desperate sound resounding in the back of his throat, but it did nothing to stop the smile that spread across his face.

The ritual was now complete, and he slowly regained his breath, opening his eyes fully as they eyed the countless symbols within his magical circle. They were made of blood, and he had to use his own for the ritual. It was painful; more painful than anything he had ever felt before, but it had worked.

He laughed, wiping the blood from his eyes. They stung something horrible, but it didn't deter him in the least. Oh no, it just meant it worked, and he gleefully shut his eyes to meditate. However, he never expected his magic to lose control.

He screamed, doubling over when his magic whipped around him, searing into his skin and bursting from his core. His throat burned, but he didn't notice that he was screaming. No, all he could focus was on the pain; the unbearable pain in his very core.

Somuchpainsomuch. No, makeitstop. Stopstopstopstopstop.

His thoughts were erratic, and he was beginning to feel light headed, barely noticing as he threw up nothing but blood. The crimson liquid stood stark against his unhealthy pale skin, and his magic tore at his fragile being, cuts appearing in their wake. He screamed, uncaring as he choked and threw up even more blood as he collapsed. His face pressed against the half-dried blood symbols on the ground, and his blood soaked into his shirt as he slumped against the cold floor. His magic slowly quieted, and all was quiet except for his erratic breathing.

The sound echoed of the walls, and Harry's eyes stayed unfocused as he stared unseeingly at the glowing runes before him with wide eyes. Slowly, his eye lids drooped, and he knew nothing but darkness.

He had hoped for death when he fell into the darkness, but he was never so lucky.


"You have taken that which is forbidden, Harry Potter."

Idly, Harry wondered when someone got there. He didn't know where he was, but it hardly mattered. Nothing hurt, and he didn't feel tired. No, nothing mattered in this darkness and he would very much like it if he stayed right where he was. The voice had no such qualms.

"Awaken, Harry Potter."

He didn't want to. He really and truly didn't, but there was something in that voice that was no request and no matter how he hated demands and people controlling him, he opened his eyes. Everything was white, and he immediately searched for the person the voice belonged to and found only one thing. There was a woman standing before him, and she was as white as the nothingness around him. Her silvery-white hair swayed in a nonexistent wind; her pale eyes gazing at him with seemingly no emotion. She wore a long black dress, and it flowed behind her in a sea of fabric that looked too silky and beautiful to possibly be real. Her skin was pale, but he noticed it shimmered and he idly wondered if she was nothing but a figment of his imagination.

"I am not real, Harry Potter, or at least this form is not."

He simply stared at her, not understanding but not wanting to speak. He was not afraid, nor was he nervous. He felt just as dull and emotionless as he had felt long ago, or perhaps not too long ago? He didn't know how long he had been here, and he found it didn't really matter. The woman laughed suddenly, and Harry's face showed nothing as she did so. The sound was light and tinkering, but there was dark amusement tainting it, and he idly wondered what was so funny.

"Ah, Harry Potter. You have never been much afraid of anything, have you? Very well, I shall tell you where you are."

Harry only stared, and her lips twitched upwards, as if amused by his lifelessness. Perhaps she was.

"You are in your very core, Harry Potter," she said simply, lips twitching once again when he reacted not.

"You preformed a ritual that was, or is, forbidden." She informed him, making him blink.

"For...bidden?" he questioned, his voice horse and dead, and she seemed to almost purr her answer as her eyes bore into his with an unnerving glow.

"Oh yes, very forbidden. It has only been performed twice before you and everyone who has done so has been killed by their own magic."

Harry looked at her, his mouth twitching upwards at the thought. The woman tilted her head, and questioned him in his strange action.

"Why do you find this funny, Harry Potter? Do you not feel betrayed? I know you understand who, and what, I am."

Harry laughed then, a deep sound that was empty and dull and it seemed to almost startle the woman.

"Why does it matter? Everyone that I have ever met me has betrayed me, how can you, my very own Magic, be any different?" he questioned, and the woman regarded him for a moment.

"I do not wish to do so." She admitted slowly, and Harry simply stared, though there was question in his eyes.

"You, Harry Potter, are one of One-thousand and thirty four that I have occupied." She admitted, further confusing Harry.

"Magic is a being, something with its own mind, if you will. Each person has a different 'being'; it is why there are different magical traits, some passes down from blood lines and others sometimes simply appearing into the family. The Main Magical Being, the Queen herself, has given birth to us lesser beings, and she is our Mother and we her Daughters. When we are in a magical being, and that magical being dies, we are moved to another. You, Harry Potter, are my one-thousand and thirty fourth vessel."

Harry nodded in understanding, but his eyes showed nothing but lifelessness. His Magic kneeled slowly before him, touching his cheek softly and her face showing an almost childish awe for a moment before speaking.

"This ritual was created by those that wanted what they may never have, and the only reason you are alive now, Harry Potter, is because the Seer blood was already in your being." Harry looked mildly surprised, and she smiled a bit in an almost smug manner, happy at his show of emotion, before starting once more.

"The ritual awakened the recessive trait in your blood, and strengthened it. Without the ritual, you would have had nothing but brief, short, and unreliable visions your whole life. Now, because of this ritual, you are given the trait in all its glory; both the good and bad. The ritual was meant for only the being to glimpse the future, but you Harry Potter, had the trait for the power to glimpse of the future, past, and present. It is up to you to decide if this is a gift or just another misfortune." She told him softly, looking at him with an almost caring smile that was more empty than anything and meant nothing to him.

She cared for him, perhaps, but Harry knew she would coo at his pain and make nothing easier for him. She now had a deeper connection with him, and he knew she would do nothing to make him better than what he made himself. He knew this, and as his thoughts floated across his own mind, she laughed as if they were in hers as well. It was loud but didn't startle him and he simply watched as she stood once more, her form slowly disappearing as she smirked at him.

"Perhaps, you are more interesting than the others, Harry Potter. I will watch in amusement as you burn the world, for Magic Herself is not pleased, and is greatly excited with the changes you shall bring to Her world."

And with that, she disappeared, leaving him to close his eyes and fall into the darkness, only to awake a day later in his own blood, with nothing but himself and the taste of residual magic in the air in the Room of Requirement.


He was throwing up blood again.

It was something that was fairly normal now, with his new 'gift' and all, but it did not make it any more pleasant. The only thing that gave him any consolation was the vision he had received before he had puked his guts up.

Dumbledore planned to visit Sirius and tell him of Pettigrew.

He had seen it all; how the old man would play his part out wonderfully and the half insane Sirius would believe him easily enough. After all, Sirius had at least thought Pettigrew wasn't missing. He thought he was at least around and known, but after he found out of Pettigrew's absence all these years the man simply flipped out.

Just like Dumbledore had planned.

He had left rather happily after his visit, and Sirius had broken out two days later, or he would break out two days later.

After all, Dumbledore seemed to be speaking to his godfather just about now.

Harry grinned a bit, satisfied with the information, and his mind whirling with thoughts of dogs, escape roots, and possible hide-outs.


Harry carefully scanned the contents of the folder with narrowed eyes, determined to not miss a single word or explanation.

He had been given it by an informant in the ministry he had paid rather generously, and had made the greedy man swear a magical vow so he couldn't tell anyone. The information had everything about Sirius' case, and his eyes steadily got steelier as he read on.

He was ruled as a criminal.

He was given no trial.

He was put in jail for years.

And he was put there by an 'anonymous tip' that just so happened to be made by Dumbledore himself.

How convenient.

His eyes grew bright as he realized what section he was on; the inner workings. He quickly read on, finding that Dumbledore had been placing a rather large amount of money in both Fudge's account as well as Lucius'. He had expected the bloody minister, but a known death eater? He wondered what the old man was planning, and he was steadily getting even more curious.

He shot up in his chair, the wooden furniture hitting the ground loudly as he heard yelling and demands beyond the wall. His breath hitched as he heard one he was all too familiar with. Snarling, he looked around himself quickly, only finding large tome's of questionable content and blood stains written and thrown up on the floor. With a wave of his hand the books went into the shelves and the stains dissolved into nothing. He jumped when he heard them get closer and quickly wished the library to return to a simple room just as they barged in.

He froze as the aurors surrounded him and Dumbledore strode his way to the front, looking just as happy as always. Harry snarled at the smugness he sensed, and the aurors tensed, pulling out their wands ad training them on his slouched form.

"My dear boy how could you?" the foolish old man asked sadly, eyes disappointed. Harry barked a harsh laugh, startling many.

"How could I what, old man? What are you possibly accusing me of now?" He said simply, a smile twisting at his lips. He looked a bit shocked but answered none-the-less.

"Dark magics my boy. Hogwarts informed me that a student under her domain had preformed terrible magic and they were in here. Imagine my surprise to find out it to be you." he said sadly, and Harry barley refrained from snarling that he had done the ritual almost a month ago. However, if he said that he would only hurt himself further, so he only looked at the old man blankly, barely hidden anger swirling in his eyes.

"I have done nothing illegal." Harry said blandly, watching them closely.

"Dark magic is illegal my boy. As well as stealing auror information." He said simply, his eyes narrowing dangerously on the folder clutched in his hand. Harry glanced down, watching as the ministry insignia sparkled proudly for them all to see. Damn.

Harry smirked at him, lifting his hand slowly and showing off the folder.

"This little thing?" he mocked, enjoying the others expressions. His smirk widened, and with a simple twist of his will, the folder was in flames and then to ash.

He was quickly slammed to the ground in a body binding, and he laughed rather insanely as Dumbledore roared angrily as the aurors dragged him away before forcing the cackling teen into unconsciousness.

Harry only continued to laugh even in the darkness.


Sitting up suddenly, Shade breathed quickly through his nose and exhaled through his mouth in a loud breath that was too large to be anything but calming. His eyes dulled slowly as his mind whirled with thoughts of his dream, or perhaps memories were more like it. It had been foolish, to want such a gift that he now had and could never give back.

He knew he was not all there, not really, but he had no one to blame other than himself and Dumbledore. The Dursley's did not make him insane; even with their beatings and breaking words. Azkaban had been simply the end point where his last ties to sanity now lay in heaps, and Dumbledore's manipulations had lead him to that point and had hit harder when he realized the full extent to them, but none of these made him loose whatever sanity he had had left. No, it was the gift, the Sight that did not allow him to have the joy of sanity.

He was not stupid, nor as disgusting or vile as Bellatrix, but his morals were twisted, his opinions on life destroyed, and his opinion of funny were almost largely including death. He was not normal, and he knew he was never meant to be as such, but sometimes he almost felt as if there were another alternative; another way his life could have gone. He had seen glimpses of it, the future and past that may have been, the golden boy hero and savior of the wizarding world version of him. It was odd, imagining his life anyway other than it was, but he was so used to never truly knowing where and when he was it truly didn't matter any longer.

He knew too much, and he had quickly found out why it was forbidden. Just because he had survived the ritual did not mean that he got such precious information for free. No, he would slowly deteriorate, and he knew this. His body was simply a vessel and his mind simply a gateway to every possible decision, every possible path, and every possible outcome for those around him. There was no way his mind would have made it out intact, but that was expected so he paid no mind.

He sighed lightly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced across the room and through the darkness. At his newest school, they were given one roommate, but even though he had been here for a total of a week he had yet to actually see this creature/roommate. He had sensed him of course, but only for a second and then he was gone. He had pretty much shrugged it off as being an avoidance to his human tendencies, and it was easier this way anyway. He had a habit of having visions during his sleep, and often woke screaming or bleeding, and that would have caused questions. And questions he so did hate answering.

He sighed again, waving his hand to strengthen the ward around his bed and slowly closed his eyes, breathing through his nose deeply as he attempted to meditate. It was the only thing that allowed him to think these days, and he had yet to sort out all of his memories of his school experience thus far.

He organized them quickly and skillfully, making sure to enforce the lock on the memories of his childhood, Dumbledore's manipulations, and Azkaban. It wouldn't do to have flashbacks of his childhood pain or of his replayed fears in Azkaban. No need to give the creatures of the school more reason to believe he was weaker than they already believed he was.

He sighed softly, eyes solely closing as a soft peace settled over him and inky blackness covered him. His breathing slowed and softened until his body relaxed and he was finally asleep.

He never noticed sickly yellow eyes piercing through the darkness and staring at his still form.


The rules to the school were simple.

You were to listen to the teachers. You were to study and pass your classes. You were to attend each one.

And then there were the ones that were unwritten, like: You had to take care of yourself, you had to fight for your respect, you had to gather allies, and you had to become as powerful as you could possibly be. To any outsider, or mostly just humans, these rules could be considered harsh. After-all, there were really no rules in place for the protection of the students, other than the powerful wards surrounding the school itself from humans (Shade had to be allowed in, much to the chagrin of many). But to magical creatures and the like, they were what would prepare themselves for the real world. In the real world, they couldn't always hide from those who wanted to kill them. It was a never ending battle for survival, and though the parents to these creatures ultimately love and care for their children, it wouldn't matter because they wouldn't be able to protect them every day of their lives.

It was a harsh reality that they faced daily, and many humans never understood or looked deeper into these rules. You had to fight, to gain experience. You had to learn to understand the world and how to put yourself into it. You had to gain friends and allies to survive and have connections. You had to kill, because that was the reality of the world they lived in: to kill or be killed.

And this was why Shade had so much respect not only for this school but magical beings and creatures themselves, so when he was finally met with his first challenge he knew this would be a turning point in his life at Selena's School Of All Things Magic. So as he stared into glinting black eyes, his own gleamed as well. He deemed this teen a good first opponent.

"I accept." He said simply, watching as lips ripped at the others face, and idly wondered when he started getting himself into fights he didn't have intelligence on.

"Wonderful, little wizard! Do you choose a second?" the other asked pleasantly, and Shade looked from the corner of his eye at Shala, who was standing among the large crowd that had gathered. Though her face was blank, her eyes were fearful, and for a moment Shade felt something akin to pity. He deemed this the reason to his stating he had no second. The demon before him smirked, and nodded, as if pleased by his decision before stating that he too would have no second. They faced each other, a vampire stepping up as well, his face bored and blank. He actually seemed rather troubled Shade thought as he gave the interesting vampire a second glance. He uninterestedly announced his being the mediator to the duel, and Shade and his opponent nodded in approval.

"I, Shade Black, do herby accept your challenge. As the challenge instigator, and by Magic, may you state your terms." He stated, and he tilted his head as many gave him an appreciative glance. Did they think he would accept without knowing of the rules to a duel? How interesting.

"I, Tunoseph Amore, do herby support this challenge. This fight will only stop until someone has given up; if one does not give up, then killing is allowed. As instigator, by Magic itself I do herby state my terms as such: No protection amulets or magical objects of any kind, No magical stabilizers, No magic suppressants, No magical enhancements, No magical mediums, such as your wand little wizard, and no magic below the sash shall we say." He finished with a grin, but Shade could tell he was completely serious. He was secretly pleased that he wouldn't have to protect his privates with vigilance; after-all, this teen was a demon and anything was game as long as it wasn't stated.

"I do hereby accept these terms and rules, and by Magic, I swear to abide by them." Shade stated formally, and he watched as Tunoseph did this as well, and suddenly a ward was put up separating them from the crowd. They bowed, stepped back, and as the bored vampire announced the start of the duel, the demon lunged, black eyes bleeding into crimson and nails sharpening.

Shade easily dodged, his face blank and his body blurring with the fast movement. His demon challenger seemed surprised, before a smirk overcame his face and he lunged once again, this time catching his claws on Shades arm. Shade jumped out the way, ignoring the blood trickling down his arm and the hoots and hollers of the creatures behind the ward.

"First Blood." The demon said smugly, and Shade only nodded before he lunged, missing the demons face by centimeters as his fist flew. The demon smirked before snarling, a wound slashing open on his face as Shade harnessed his magic. The demon lunged, and Shade easily twisted out of the way, spinning his body to kick out and hit the demons back. The demon flew into the ground, his face scraping painfully as the magic-filled kick connected with his now tender back.

He quickly got to his feet, but Shade was already by him and grasped his throat, throwing him across the floor. The demon snarled as he quickly regained his footing, sprinting toward Shade again and lighting his hand with black flames. Shade immediately met him half way, his hand quickly grabbing onto the demons wrist and twisting his hand behind his back, jerking it to the side and hearing a satisfying snap.

The demon screamed, but he quickly made his flames spread and Shade let go of the demons broken arm as the flames licked at his skin. He hissed, jumping back as he eyed the burnt flesh of his forearm before glaring darkly at the demon. Shade lashed out again, and with quick movements, threw his arm toward the recovering demon, ice materlizing in mid air and hurling toward the demon. The demon cursed, jumping to the side but did not avoide them all, and fell with a scream as two large ice spikes went through his unbroken arm and left leg.

He dropped heavily, and Shade sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He made his way over to the bleeding demon, noticing the heavy silence of their audience, and crouched near the broken form.

"Do you submit?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion and cold. The demon snarled at him.


Shade simply looked at him, unimpressed before gracefully shrugging.

"Then, by the stated rules placed upon this fight by yourself, by magic and vow, your life shall be forfeit." He stated casually, smirking a bit as the demon faltered as he stared at Shade.

"You wouldn't."

Shade smirked, tilting his head to the side as he tapped his chin in thought.

"Oh, but I do believe I would."


Note: …I am so sorry! I really have no excuse, and this chapter wasn't exactly what I put in the summary I had last chapter, but don't worry the story is getting good. Thank you all so much for your support. I adore you all, and review with your opinions, thoughts on what may happen as a result to the fight, or if you simply want to yell at me.

I will accept that.

I also just put up a new story (I'm sorry! The muse just won't let me free), so check it out if you so wish. It's a female Harry ^.^

Review And I Hope You Enjoyed!

Loveless xoxo