Summary: This story is a Crossover between Harry Potter and the videogame Vampire: Bloodlines. The action takes place five years after the game's character has decided to join the Camarilla and enter his clan's pyramid and after Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't ask.

It was midnight, I was inside the chantry's library, researching new spells that I could add to my thaumaturgical knowledge. Maximilian Strauss (the chantry's regent), along with Gary (the Nosferatu primogen), Nines Rodriguez and Jack (the Anarch representatives in Downtown) were having a reunion inside the conferences' chamber.

From what I had heard, they were meeting with a wizard from the United Kingdom, I didn't mind. My mind was fully occupied with my studies. So far, I had mastered alchemy and motus (telekinesis) and was steadily getting used to other disciplines, like aquam and ignem.

I closed the book I had been reading and it floated straight to it's shelve. I had to put the new spells at test before I forgot them; so I started towards the training room. The chantry's hallways were very similar to each other and one could easily be lost; but we, the Tremere clan, were used to that. I reached the room I was searching for, opened the door and saw a tall, brunette vampiress (kindred, I had to remind myself vampires are called kindred) summoning a two feet ice pillar.

Suddenly, The pillar contracted and contorted, forming curves and figures all over it's face. When it stopped, it had transformed into a fine piece of art. "Quite impressive." I applauded her. Serene just turned to face me for a second. Then, without exchanging any words, went back to her work. It was a combination of alchemy and aquam, not very easy to perform, and even more difficult to maintain.

I entered, closed the door, and went to the other end of the room. I would be studying ignem now; and, although I knew my skills weren't enough to melt that pillar even if I tried, it was much safer this way.

I lifted my left hand, opened my palm and started concentrating into what I wanted to happen. A spark emerged from my opened, pale hand; followed by a very small flame. The flame only stood a single inch above my hand while I was trying to lit a fireball, the size you would usually use to throw to an enemy. Serene chuckled, "Not up for the task today, are we?"

"Oh, come on. This is my first try, and you know it." I ignored the fellow Tremere as I flipped through my memory to try and understand why it wasn't working. I was able to lift a wall from the thin air with less effort than the one I was using to lit this... Nothingness. Why?

"You're not putting enough oxygen." Could it be that simple? I looked straight to her face, perplexed, for a second. She wasn't laughing. Well, placing oxygen wasn't that hard... With some more concentration; I did it and, with the so much needed gas surrounding the little fire I had created, it came to life and grew to the size of a bonfire, hot and blazing. It reached to nearly touch my face.

I relaxed a bit and the blaze shrank to the desired dimensions. "So, it was just oxygen?" I turned to face her, but Serene was gone. Well, I could thank her later, if we met. I transformed some of the air into a brick wall and ignited another fireball into my right hand. This would be fun. "I've got lots of it in this very room."

Two hours had passed and, as I was exiting from my bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, I heard someone knock my room's main door. "Just a sec!" I summoned a suit out of my wardrobe and dressed quickly.

When I opened the door, I saw yet another of the students in the chantry, he was brown-haired, and rather pale, even for a kindred. I remembered sparring him when we were both studying the motus' secrets. "The regent has summoned you into the meeting."

"Max? Ok, John I'll go at once." The guy nodded and started to the ladders. "Did he say anything else?"

"No, nothing." The most frustrating thing one notices when he starts interacting with the people of my clan is that you can never expect to have a long and pleasant conversation with anyone, except for the chantry's regent, that is. Everyone centers only in their studies of thaumaturgy and the other duties assigned by the elders. If you keep thinking about it, the regent is not that different, after all: Maximilian's duty is to get involved with people.

Sighing, I made my way towards the conferences' chamber. If the news had arrived any other time, maybe I would have taken the news better; but I wasn't in the mood right then, I had spent lots of stamina practicing and I needed blood. It wasn't that I needed it that badly, but the need was still there. However, I would have to ignore it: whatever they were discussing in there, it had taken Camarilla and Anarch representatives to discuss it for two hours and, yet, they needed someone else.

I didn't like that. Last time I had found myself in the middle of a discussion between the Camarilla and the Anarchs, I had ended having a Blood Hunt over my sorry ass. Not an experience I would recommend to anyone, not even an enemy. I was now before the chamber I had been called from.

I knocked and, when I was told so, I entered, closed the door, and bowed before the assistants. Nines and Jack wouldn't like that: it was completely against the Anarch movement to bow before anyone, but I knew they understood. As a member of my clan's pyramid, I had some protocols to follow, and I had fought hard to be accepted as another student of this chantry.

My previous fear was swiftly replaced with confidence and trust. Out of all the kindred I had met so far, these four before me were the only ones I would (and had already) trust my life to.

Gary, the monstrous-looking Nosferatu, wasn't one to condemn people: his specialty was to give information in exchange for whatever he wanted. As far as I was concerned, he couldn't be called a threat... Just a freak.

Max... Well, he was this chantry's regent and he had been the one to offer me a way out of my mess when the Blood Hunt was over me. He was supposed to kill me at sight but, instead, I received his full cooperation. Maybe he did it because he saw that, in the end, it would help him as well. Regardless, if what he had wanted in exchange was me to owe him, he had succeeded in the whole meaning of the word.

Jack and Nines... They had been saving my butt ever since the night of my embracing. If they needed me to jump, I'd jump with all my strength; and they knew it.

There was someone else in the chamber: a very old human with a strong and soothing magical aura around himself. Wrinkles and silvery hair and beard were his trademark physical characteristics, along with a peculiar deep burning on his right hand, which was completely scorched.

I had seen this man once, Albus Dumbledore. He had come to buy an old ring Max had acquired in London. What he wanted now, I didn't know. I chose my next words carefully and directed them to my real superior. "Did you summon me?" Jack shifted his weight with discomfort: he didn't like to hear people sounding submissive. Gary didn't seem as happy-going and carefree as he used to. Something was wrong.

"Ah, here you are." Max waved me to come closer to the reunion. I walked further into the room, but stopped at Dumbledore's same distance from the table: although I was in my territory, this reunion was theirs, not mine. "I'm sure you remember this human from his last visit."

I turned towards the alluded elder and nodded to him. It was more like a slight bow. "Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of United Kingdom's wizard and wizardry school, Hogwarts."

The old man returned my nod with one of his. "Nice to meet you." His voice was as soothing as his aura, and his heartbeat rate was normal, rather relaxed.

"We've been recently informed that wizard war has exploited upon the United Kingdom and, to some extend, most of the Western Europe." Everyone was looking straight towards me. The Nosferatu with curiosity and amusement, Dumbledore seemed to be measuring me, Jack was bored (he would be better cracking some Sabbat heads) and Nines seemed to be worried. "From what it seems, a very powerful dark wizard called Lord Voldemort has reappeared after some years of being thought dead."

"Normally, we wouldn't interfere, but this Voldemort has since started a huge campaign against those who oppose him, or those who he doesn't like." Well, to me it was like another terrorist, from the magic world. "He's been getting alliances with the giants, some werewolf clans, the dementors, the Sabbat in France and who knows what else."

Now Jack had heard too much: Max wasn't giving me only information, but some prejudices also. "Listen careful, kiddo: this is nothin' agreed in the Camarilla, nor between the Anarchs. You can just say 'not interested' and walk out that door." So, those weren't orders from above... Nines placed a hand on Jack's arm before the old guy's words stepped out of what one could cal a peaceful reunion's limits.

I nodded my thanks to the restless kindred. "Where do I get in?" Gary silenced a laughter, and the human seemed pleased to hear that I could decide to cut the chatter up.

"Dumbledore has come here to ask for some..." I had learned that Max nearly never stopped, or paused, an explanation like that, unless he was hiding something, or seeking for a way to say things without offending anyone. Nearly always, it was both. "Assistance, for his fight against said dark lord."

I didn't face the human, it was clear that this was now a conversation between they and me, with Dumbledore as an spectator. "Then, why do you ask me? Such a request should go up in the chain of command, not down."

I had said what they expected me to say, word by word. I was used to this feeling when dealing with primogens (a primogen is the eldest and most powerfull kindred of his clan in a territory); and I would play along, for the time being. "The human has requested nothing but a single kindred to go there and..."

Max didn't end his sentence: Jack's impatience to tell what was going on beat him. "And babysit a trouble-seeking teenager who just can't avoid putting himself always on the way of fire." I would have liked to see how Max would have said that.

The Tremere primogen didn't like to be interrupted in mid-sentence, but he didn't show it this time; though his speech became slightly quicker and more centered on the main subject. "The boy's name is Harry Potter, and he seems to be the key to destroying that Voldemort." Jack seemed to be going to tell them the best way was to extract the spine from the wizard's back and use it as a bat against his head, but he contained himself.

So, direct approach had already been tested? "Then, why don't they put a wizard to protect the boy?" It was better than seeming prepotent and asking why were they choosing me: they hadn't explicitly said that.

Curious: it was Gary who answered my question. "Only a kindred's mind can never be controlled by the magic wizards use, boss, we are also immune to some other spells mortals aren't. Out of all the kindred, only the Tremere's thaumaturgy is close enough to magic to fake as a wizard." Strange: he was talking directly and coherently, maybe the matter deserved his respect? I made up my mind to take care about which words I used that night. "Boss, you are the only Tremere respected both by the Anarchs and the Camarilla; so, if assistance is to be given, you are to be the first candidate." Politics. Always politics. Politic issues like this one had cost my sire's unlife, and nearly mine.

I had to choose well. Too bad I hadn't followed Jack's advise. "Don't wizards use wands?" It was a question as good as any other.

"We'll provide you with a wand. It's core will be made upon your sire's ashes, so you'll find it a lot easier to canalize your thaumaturgy through it." Max evidently wished me to go. He was pushing me into it as much as diplomacy allowed him before the Anarchs.

Ok, it was clearly not a petition, but a PETITION, in capital letters. "Mortals live their lives during the day." But I might, as well, make sure everything was set before I said 'yes'.

"English weather is not like Santa Monica's: the sun sets sooner, and it's clouded more often. You can also wear sun protective lens, a good layer of sun cream and long clothes, which the usual wizard robes are." I couldn't believe my ears. "Also, you won't be forced to walk outdoors during the day and you will not have to watch the boy constantly."

"I'm not feeding from a bunch of children." I knew I was allowed to say that: blood loss on such a tender age can be dangerous, especially if we consider that the small frame of a teenager hasn't enough blood to satisfy an average famished kindred. This tends to end the encounter with lethal consequences upon the mortal.

"You can keep hunting in London as long as your presence is not directly needed on Hogwarts. When that time arrives, You'll be able to find preys at Hogsmeade, a wizard town very near to the school, and inside the forest beside it." Animals. I was supposed to feed from animals. Well, I had fed from rats before, and it did the trick. I wouldn't say 'no' just because of that.

"Is the Masquerade to be protected from the people on Hogwarts?" A question towards everyone's needs. It was time I stopped thinking only for myself.

"No. The wizard world knows completely everything about our existence and our clans, though average wizards are more familiar with the Sabbat than the rest of us, so you'll have it easier if you keep the knowledge of your nature to a minimal group." Max's advise was a very good one, indeed.

I remembered how accurately Jack had described the way Sabbat think: It's like saying 'Hey! We're vampires! Let's bring hell on Earth so we can feel big and bad... Huh? I'm dead! How did that happen?' If the wizards thought that all the kindred were Sabbat, It would be really wise not to let them know of my... Condition.

Nines spoke up for the first time since I had arrived. "Time's over, kid. You've got to decide now: say 'yes', or 'no'." He was pressuring me on purpose. He wanted me to rebel against an imposition, to show that I hadn't become just another Camarilla puppet.

The true options he wanted me to choose from were either 'no', or 'yes, but with my conditions...' I chose the last one. "Only if I receive whole information about my mission, including the whys and hows..." The Anarchs seemed pleased to see that I hadn't become a puppet. The rest of the assistants simply nodded. "And, if I feel that I no longer want to continue, you'll let me come back as if nothing had ever happened."

This made it. Everyone in the chamber, except the human, started to discuss what I had just said. After a short debate, though, they concluded my conditions were acceptable and Dumbledore agreed to come back to take me to UK next night, so I'd be able to get ready.

When the reunion finished, the only coherent words I could think about were: 'I could use a drink'.

So, how was it? R&R, please!