Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Story of Neil Carruthers ❯ Chapter 1

I was brought into this life by my Sire Treaca. This is pronounced Tre-ack-ah. Who I was before, matters not. But my Lord and Sire Treaca was not a kind Sire. He was greedy, especially for land. He sent us out to slaughter as many as we could and intimidate others so that he could have a fiefdom. For several years, I obeyed until I grew tired of being used and wandered off. Treaca was not happy and when he caught me, he threw me into a dungeon for 89 years.

During that time, I feasted on rats and other vermin. I did have a friend outside who would throw blood filled meat or recently dead down to me. I enjoyed my meals and every day that I was fed, I appreciate Nair (Ny-ear) again. It was hell… the blood was cold and thick. It slithered down my throat like the slime from an untended moat. It did however satisfy me. I could not afford to be picky… then one day, something happened, something changed and ohhhhh how delicious it was.

Nair threw down a body, he wasn't dead, merely unconscious. He was a wizard. Evil and Dark and Delicious. His blood burned in my veins. He was dipped in the darkness and cruelty. He had siphoned off the magics of hundreds of children. He was the most perverse creature and I let him fill me. I laughed as his magics filled me and made me whole as I hadn't been for so long. I ran to the chute which Nair had tossed him down and called up, laughing.

"So delicious. I wish you could share him with me, Nair! He is so…"

"I know… his woman was just as good as he was!

Nair laughed and disappeared. Days pass and my strength rather than diminish, grew. I do not know how many days but perhaps less than a week later, I heard noise outside my door; my locked, chained, barred, and spellwritten door. I flittered to a corner, the far one and crouched down. My hair hanging like befouled curtains about my face, my hands were tucked down to hide my glittering nails. Treaca laughed beyond my door. It opened.

Nair stepped through, guarding his master, my sire, Treaca. He rushed me, his hand blurred with its speed as he slapped me. This nails cut furrows on my face. Blood oozed out before the cuts healed. Nair licked his claws clean.

"Bow before your master, filthy animal! Learn your place, and we might be so kind as to give you one of the dying to feast on."

Another blow, this time to the side of my head. Another to my stomach and then my feet were swept back from under me. I feel forward into the foulness that covered the floor of my cell. And my hand closed on something, raw thick silk.

Treaca stepped forward, laughing at me. He leaned over and grabbed my hair, yanking my face upward. I followed with the silver dagger Nair had just given me. It slid into his skull, the silver cleaving the vampiric flesh as sweetly as a scalpel. The dagger glowed with a furious pure silver glow before it died out. Treaca was dead and Nair… he ran to me and lifted me. His lips found mine, brushing gently before he guided my fangs to his throat. I felt his fangs pierce my own. I felt as he gave me his oath and I gave him mine. When we sated, we pulled back. He took his own cloak and covered me. We stepped out into the night, not as lovers or as thugs, but as true vampire rulers.

Where Treaca had pillaged, we restored. Where he had raped and murdered, we cultivated. We had more lands, people, and riches than he ever had. Yet, I was not happy. Nair was lovely and he wished me to rule beside him. And I was willing but I had spent just under nine decades a prisoner, I had not had the time Nair had been given to travel the world. So that was my request and he did not begrudge me this, his only request was that for every decade away, I would spend the rest of my time with him. And I do. When we travel the world together, as we often do, it does not count as any time from my decade away. And this is the way it has been for over 800 years.

As for why I agreed to teach here, it is because of McGill. The dagger we used to kill Treaca was made by a McGill. He forged sun and moon into the blade of silver, he doused it in sacred water. He anointed it with blood of the werewolf and unicorn. He cast arcane and deadly spells. Without it, we would have never been freed. And now, here I am, again under McGill's power to be able to walk in the sun upon his word and bond.