Disclaimer – I only own the Kylar Demons – Everything else belongs to Joss Whedon and J.K Rowling.
A/N: I so shouldn’t be posting this but here’s chapter 1. Probably not going to be even a semi-stable update schedule on this but maybe posting this chapter will jump start the rest of it. It will be slash (do I write anything else?). Enjoy!
(BTVS Season 2/Hogwarts Year 2)
Harry landed with an ‘oomph’ on the hard concrete floor and he couldn’t stop his wince at the cold metal snap of a shackle and lock around his ankle.
Then the vampire was gone.
Cautiously the boy sat up and flexed, making sure everything still worked properly. Fledges were notorious for not caring what shape their food was in when they ate it – but he had no intention of sticking around to be eaten. Deciding that everything was indeed working, he cupped both hands around the shackle and concentrated.
The sharp click and spark of a lighter froze him mid-breath. Consciously he regulated his breathing and heart rate; fear would only start a frenzy. Moving only his eyes he searched for the source and found only the red glow of a cigarette in the darkest corner of the dimly lit room. He moved his hands deliberately from the shackle to rub at his calf and knee, as if they were sore from the fall.
‘See, not trying to escape here. Not scared. Not bloody. Not worth eating…’
“A step up from a puppy anyway,” a British accented voice sneered from behind the cigarette and moved forward.
Or rather rolled forward. Harry was unable to hide his surprise at the incongruous sight before him – a vampire in a wheel chair – a red wheelchair. A Master vampire at that, since he was still alive to be in a wheelchair, and powerful too if his instincts were right.
“Well come on boy, lets get this over with.”
Harry didn’t move, “I’ll make an awfully scrawny meal, don’t you think?”
The vampire rolled closer to the boy and to the single candle flickering in a rusty sconce high above Harry’s head. A coherent description wouldn’t form in Harry’s mind, merely a chain of words that seemed more fitting than any poetic rambling.
And he was. And the boy knew this vampire, by reputation if nothing else.
“Spike,” he whispered.
The vampire cocked his head, “And how is that a mite like you knows about the Big Bad?”
“Homeless kids on the streets of Sunnydale haveta make a living some how, yeah? I deliver messages for the Ky-lar demons and since they like keeping their messengers alive, they give me the heads up on the Hellmouth happenings.”
* * * * * *
Spike felt his eyes go wide. This scamp of a child was a Ky-lar pigeon? The Ky-lar were snake demons and were very secretive about what ever it was they did. They had never caused him any trouble and so he didn’t bother them. The only real thing he knew about them was that they used messengers to keep in contact with other Nests of their kind. The messengers were called pigeons for two reasons, the obvious reference being messenger pigeons and the other…well if one of their messengers showed disloyalty then pigeon wound up on the menu.
“Where are you from kid?” It was refreshing to hear another Brit voice.
“How’d you wind up in Sunnyhell?”
The boy grinned at the moniker. “July before last all these owls started showing up at our house in Surrey. My Uncle got really upset about it – he has…had this thing about appearances and appearing normal. So he packed us all up and we kept moving. The owls kept coming until we got here.”
“What happened to them?”
“A few months later, around Christmas they – my Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin – got eaten by…something. Still not sure exactly what it was.”
The boy frowned and Spike had to cover his grin with his hand. He was just so… cute.
“So you’ve been on your own for what? A little over a year?”
“Why didn’t they put you in a home or send ya to some other relatives?”
“Let’s just say that the police didn’t realize that there was more than one kid in the house and my teachers don’t ask as long as there’s a signature on my papers. I’ve got a friend who looks after me.”
“Must be a good friend.”
The boy grinned, “The best – but don’t ask me where he lives, okay?”
Spike rolled his eyes, “You’re a cheeky monkey aren’t you?”
“Trying to make an impression here; hoping to live another day or three.”
Laughter rang off the concrete walls and Spike was surprised to find it was his own. It seemed like forever since he’d had a reason to laugh. With Dru getting hurt in Prague, then his injury and now with Angelus…
He snarled at the thought of his Grand-Sire and the boy at his feet flinched. It was a nearly imperceptible movement but the vampire noticed it. Gold rimmed blue eyes studied the boy again.
Owls meant Wizard and their persistence indicated power, as did the Kylar’s interest in the boy – they didn’t deal with humans except to eat them. Add to that the fact that the boy had survived so long on a Hellmouth…
An idea was forming in the back of his head and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“So you’re against being on the menu, eh?”
The boy cocked his head to the side and Spike was struck by just how green his eyes were… they almost seemed to glow in the darkness. White teeth worried a small bottom lip.
“Well… I wouldn’t mind donating but I’d kinda like to have a heartbeat when you’re done.”
Spike smirked, the boy was a treasure.
“What’s your name boy?”
“Harry – Harry Potter?”
That name sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn’t think of why.
“Nice to meet you Harry, I’m Spike or William the Bloody of the Aurelius Clan and I have a proposition for you.”
Harry crossed his legs Indian style and sat straighter, “Okay.”
“Since you don’t want to get eaten, and I need to eat, how about you become my Pet?”
“A Pet,” Harry repeated, frowning. “What exactly would that mean?”
“A Pet! You’d sit at my feet and do Pet things?”
The boy quirked an eyebrow and Spike was beginning to regret opening his mouth, “What, like play with a ball of yarn or something.”
The blonde snorted, “Mostly you’d just help me get food, lure it in or somethin’. Maybe help me get dressed and clean until I heal up… I’d feed from you occasionally but you’d recover from it faster than a normal person would.”
Spike found himself staring at his hands – he didn’t know why this was bothering him so much, if the boy didn’t agree he would just eat him and go on… but he’d never had a Pet before and from what little he knew about it it was an intimate position.
“There’s more to it, isn’t there.”
‘He’s not stupid,’ Spike thought before saying, “I’ll drink some of your blood and you’ll drink mine. You’ll have a permanent mark on your neck that will let other demons know you belong to someone. I was told that a Pet always knows when their Master needs them and vice versa.”
Harry pondered that for awhile and Spike lit another cigarette.
“What happens if I say no?”
The blonde exhaled a cloud of smoke, “You go back on the menu.”
Harry stood, dusting off his ragged jeans and exposing the tears in his faded charity shop red ET t-shirt, “Okay, so how do we do this?”
Spike thought it was funny that the boy still kept himself outside of his reach. “You’re gonna sit in my lap while I bite you. Then I’ll ask you to be my Pet and when you say yes I’ll feed you some of my blood.”
“Why do I have to sit in your lap?”
Spike rolled his eyes again, “Mostly for comfort and so you don’t fall on your ass when I bite you. Not that you aren’t a pretty little thing but I’m not in to kids.” He leered, “In a few years though…”
Harry snorted, “Whatever.”
Spike rolled the chair forward a bit, well into the area of motion allowed by the chain but not close enough to the boy to panic him.
Harry took a deep breath before carefully wriggling his way onto the chair straddling the vampire’s black denim encased legs.
Spike was surprised by how light the boy was, “Well you don’t weigh anything at all!”
Harry gave him an unfriendly look, “Told you I’m too scrawny to eat. My relatives didn’t think feeding me was a priority, now could we get this over with please?”
The boy turned his head to the left exposing the right side of his throat and Spike had to struggle to keep his true face hidden. Gently he took Harry’s chin in hand and turned his head to the right, “Pets are marked on the left side of the neck.”
As were Mates. Spike had always wondered about the symbolism but Aureliuns were not ones for taking Pets or Mates and he wouldn’t dream of asking a Master outside their line that kind of question.
His demon visage slid forward as he gently licked the boy’s neck. A vampire’s saliva confused a human’s nerve receptors turning pain into pleasure. They could make their bite very pleasurable, they just generally didn’t care enough to.
Gently he pierced the skin; he heard Harry’s shocked gasp and felt the little body in his arms shudder and then nothing else mattered as he swallowed his first taste of Wizard blood.
Flames danced through his body and stars exploded behind his eye lids. This… this was life, pure life sliding down his throat. This would heal him, make him whole… this would make him stronger than he’d ever been…
The flow stuttered and Spike jerked himself back. Harry hung limp in his arms, barely breathing, barely alive.
“Bollocks! Harry, can you hear me? Harry?”
He shook the boy. He had to be awake to complete the ritual or the vampiric blood would kill him – he needed a Pet, not a pint-sized fledge.
“W-what,” Harry whined, a barely there sound.
“Will you call me Master?”
“Will you serve me in all things?”
“Will you be mine?”
“Forever,” Spike growled before biting into his wrist and then placing the wound to Harry’s lips. “Drink my Pet and enter into your Master’s service.”
He didn’t know where the words came from but they seemed to resonate in the room around them.
With Harry’s first swallow Spike felt a shockwave shoot down his body making all the hair on his body stand on end.
This boy was something special and Spike was never going to let him go. This… Harry Potter was his.