R (original) (raw)

“Melanin”

[Nuada/HP] Vernon couldn’t abide a freak in his home, so he found more freaks to send Harry to. Before Prince Nuada stabs Hellboy, Harry returns to the BPRD, and saves Hellboy’s life. He also happens to be Nuada’s melanin; his soul mate. But will it be enough to stop Nuada from trying to destroy the world? Crossover. AU.

I really should update The Lambs, and I was going to, then I remember how badly I wanted to read a HP/Hellboy xover and how I couldn’t find one… I was planning to write this one AFTER I finished Soul Seeker, but since I only have 2 more chapters to go, here it is.

My spell check decided to stop working half way through this story, so excuse any mistakes. Thanks.

* * *

“Melanin”

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, et all are property of JK Rowling, and Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros and all those other nifty people that make it so we can read and watch the Potterverse whenever we feel like it. I make no money from this, just so you know. Hellboy is also not mine; I make no money from the Hellboy comics or movies. Mostly this is from the films, as I never read the Hellboy comics.
Summary: [Nuada/HP] Vernon couldn’t abide a freak in his home, so he found more freaks to send Harry to. Before Prince Nuada stabs Hellboy, Harry returns to the BPRD, and saves Hellboy’s life. He also happens to be Nuada’s melanin; his soul mate. But will it be enough to stop Nuada from trying to destroy the world? Crossover. AU.
Warnings: Slash. Nuada/HP. Violence. Creature Fic. Language.
Rating: R for violence and language.

XXX

Prince Nuada: “let this remind you why you once feared the dark.”

Words: 10,001
Chapter 1/3
Melanin
1984

If there was anyone in the world who would claim that they were completely, one-hundred-percent normal it was Vernon Dursley. As a child, Vernon had hated fairy tales, and romantic films, and anything else he deemed to be abnormal. He was a realist. He didn’t believe in filth like that. His desire to be normal only intensified when he met Petunia Evans. Petunia also considered herself normal. Petunia’s parents were normal as well, so Vernon was happy enough to meet them. But her sister, Lily, on the other hand was a far cry from ordinary.

While Vernon and Petunia would be considered to be Muggles, there was a world, hidden from them, that existed. In this world lived Witches, and Wizards, and Vampires, and Werewolves, and all other types of fascinating creatures. Lily Evans was one such Witch. The day she turned eleven-years-old she received a letter inviting her to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was at this school that she met James Potter, a Wizard. As anyone could predict, Vernon despised James as much as he feared Lily. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that anybody related to his ‘dear, sweet Petunia’ could be as evil as James Potter, so, instead, he wondered if she was possessed.

Then the Potter boy was born.

The fact that Lily had the gall to invite them to his christening (imagine, christening a heathen witch) when the Potters hadn’t bothered going to Dudley’s was like rubbing salt in a wound for Vernon. It was from that day onwards that he decided he hated Lily as much as James. When they both got themselves blown up, he figured good riddance to bad rubbish. Until the morning he was woken by Petunia’s screaming. That same morning, he rushed down the stairs, and found Harry Potter sleeping on his doorstep.

Harry’s life wasn’t too bad in comparison to some other Muggleborns. He wasn’t beaten, or exorcised or anything of the sort. Though, from the moment he arrived the Dursleys didn’t think too highly of him.

“Well,” Petunia sniffed, nudging Harry into the house with her foot. “What am I supposed to do with the little freak?”

“Do you think they’re watching?” Vernon whispered, his moustache quivering.

“Oh I very well don’t care, Vernon. What are we to do? We can’t leave the little blighter near Dudders. What if he uses magic on him?”

“He can use magic? This young?” Vernon shuddered at the thought.

Petunia shrugged. She bent down, and picked Harry up. Holding him an arms length away from her body she walked to the cupboard under the stairs and deposited the child there. “I don’t know. That Dumbledee man said he was powerful, so maybe. I don’t want to take any chances, Vernon.”

“Right, right, Dudley is more important.” The two of them went back to bed, but first they woke Dudley and brought him into the room with them.

Harry slept in the cupboard under the stairs for the next three years. He was fed every morning, by Vernon who threw a bottle into the cupboard and locked the door after himself. He was given a slice of toast at lunchtime, folded up and crammed through the grate in the door, and at dinnertime he was given another bottle. He would drink the second bottle as Petunia gave him his only nappy change of the day on the hallway floor.

The morning Harry turned four he had a nightmare. It started off nicely enough. There were some trees and lots of green light, but it wasn’t too bad. He had opened his eyes, only to find he was standing among the trees and there were lots of other people there. They all wore black dresses, and carried white masks in their hands. Each of them stared right past Harry, as if he wasn’t even there. There were more flashes of green light, and then with a cackle and a bright red explosion, Harry woke up screaming.

Vernon pulled him out of the cupboard by his feet. “Shut up, shut up, you bloody boy!” The Muggle shouted.

“S-Sorry,” he murmured. He kept his eyes downcast. As Harry had been screaming, all of the windows in the bottom floor of the house had shattered.

Petunia was standing in the hallway wringing her hands and looking around herself with tears in her eyes. “I can’t do it anymore. We can’t, we can’t.” Vernon nodded at her, slowly, and shoved Harry back into the cupboard without another word.

“I’ll take care of it, pet.”

Petunia watched him leave the house for work, and spent the rest of the day ignoring Harry as he cried, begging for something to eat. “Bad children don’t get food,” she told him sternly.

When Vernon came home, he brought a stranger with him. “Sit down, sit down,” he said hurriedly. Petunia ran into the kitchen, and waited there as the kettle boiled. When she came back, she offered the stranger a cup with a forced smile. “Dear, this is Professor Trevor Bruttenholm. Sir, this is my wife Petunia.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the man said, holding out his hand. Petunia took it hesitantly, gave it one hard shake and then drew back as it he had burnt her. It was all she could do not to rub her hand against her shirt after. The professor was tall, and at least in his fifties, with hair that was thinning on top and going white around the edges. “Could I please meet this boy?”

“I’ll get him.” Petunia said. She left the room quickly, pulled Harry from the cupboard, and hissed, “tell him you were upstairs if he asks.”

“Ah there he is!” Vernon shouted, moving quickly to pull Harry into a hug. The four-year-old tensed, flinching back from his uncle in fear. He looked around in confussion as Vernon didn’t push him or shout at him, and instead just held him. The Professor watched them with narrowed eyes, seeing Harry’s discomfort for what it was. “Harry, this is Professor-”

“You can call me father if you’d like, but my name is Trevor.” The man stood up. He moved to crouch in front of Harry and held his hand out, slowly so as not to startle the boy. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Le suilon,”1 the boy whispered, a small smile on his lips.

The Professor drew his hand back, a bemused smile on his face. “Mae govannen,”2 he answered the child in Elvish.

Not many humans could speak the language of the Elves, but Trevor was a professor of the Occult, and as such he had learnt as much as he possibly could about all manner of different species and creatures. Those the world believed in and those they had forgotten about as well. The Elves were one of those species.

He had been fortunate enough to meet an Elf once. The beautiful Princess Nuala had found him alone one night, a very long time ago, when he had still be a young man. It was before the world against Hitler, and he had been lost and hungry and she had offered him some of her own food. Together they had sat and talked and she taught him to say a few phrases in her language before they went to sleep. When he woke, she was gone, but she had left him a book and he had devoured the words written inside of it. He had always hoped to meet her twin, Nuada, but with the abandonment of the Golden Army the Prince had gone into exile and so Trevor had pushed that notion aside. It was very unlikely that anyone would ever hear from the Prince again.

He had never seen or heard of a human child who could speak the Elven language as if it were its own before. The boy in front of him, a Wizard, and most certainly not an Elf spoke without a trace of an accent. He pronounced the words fluently, easily, and even Trevor who had years of practice found his pronunciation below par at times.

“Lle tyava quel?”3 Harry asked quietly. The professor had gone silent and had just been staring at him for a few minutes. Vernon’s grip on his shoulder had tightened, and it was starting to hurt now.

“Oh, oh,” the man said shaking his head, “yes I’m fine. I just got lost in thought.” He frowned slightly before he shook it away. “Come on then, Harry.” He held his hand out and Harry reached out for it. Vernon squeezed his shoulder again, before finally letting the child go. “I’ll take good care of him. He’ll be able to write to you, or phone you-”

“NO!” Petunia shouted. “No, we don’t want to hear from him.” She said shrilly. Harry winced as she turned and practically ran from the living room.

“Mr. Dursley.” Trevor nodded his head and the Muggle stepped out of the way. The Professor led Harry past the Muggle, and to the door. “Say goodbye, Harry.”

A part of him knew it would annoy the Dursleys very much, and another part of him was pleased by the fact that he could speak a language that actually existed. When Petunia first heard him answer in Elvish, he was slapped and told to speak English. He was told he was making the language up, but if the Professor spoke it too then it must be real. “Mára mesta,”4 He waited for a moment, till Vernon was out of sight. Then he added, “tevenyel.”5

“Oh Ainion,”6 the Professor said softly. He laid his hand on Harry’s head, his fingers running lightly through his silky black hair. “I’ll take much better care of you, I promise.”

“Why did you call me that? My name is Harry, not Angelo.”

“Well, you see, I already have an adopted son. He happens to be the son of a demon Prince of Sheol. He’s around forty now, and he’s as much of a little devil as he was when he first arrived. Since I already have a demon for a son, I figured I needed a little angel as well.” Trevor smiled, and lifted the child into his arms. “Ainion means Angel in Elvish. I rather thought it suits you.”

“If you are giving me an Elven name, it would have to be Marcaunon7. That is my name after all.”

“You, little one, are too astute for your age.” Trevor carried him over to a car that was parked across the road. He opened the door with a soft smile. “In you go.” He said, setting Harry down on the chair. “Ok, this is captain Ben Daimio.” The man in the drivers seat turned around and waved at Harry. “He’s going to bring us to the airport, and then we’ll fly to your new home.”

“Where is it?”

“We live in America, at a airbase in New Mexico most of the time. At the moment, we’re staying in a house of mine, in New York.”

“Why do you live in an air base?” Harry asked softly as the car engine turned over and they began to drive off down the street.

“I work for the government.” Harry tensed up, fully believing his uncle had sent him away to be experimented on. “For the Federal Bureau for Paranormal Research and Development. When you grow up, you can be an investigator like Hellboy.”

Harry relaxed slightly. “Who is Hellboy?” Harry asked innocently.

The car swerved. “What?” Ben asked in shock. “You’ve never heard of Hellboy?”

“He’s my son.” Trevor answered with a chuckle. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

XXX

1994

Harry’s life had been a good one since then. At first he had probably offended quite a few people because he had been unable to stop staring, but he soon got used to the different types of creatures that lived there. They had stayed in the Professor’s New York mansion for a few months, but when Hellboy had been called out on a mission the rest of them headed back to New Mexico. Since then, Harry had been taken to live in several other places across America, and he’d even gone back to London with them once to track down Edward Stokes, a canabalistic ghoul who Hellboy had finally found and destroyed in Hammersmith cemetary.

When Harry turned fourteen, a letter arrived in the post.

Mr. Marcaunon Ainion Bruttenholm, BPRD c/o United States Government New Mexico United States of America

Dear Mr. Bruttenhold,

It may seem peculiar that you are hearing from me now, when so long has gone by since I last saw you. You were so small when I was last near you, but I admit I thought of you often. I was assured that you were being cared for by someone trustworthy, and so I left you alone. But unfortunately, the time has come when you must, and I stress the word must, return to your true home.

Two years ago, you came back to England, to London in particular. I do not know why you were there, but I could feel your magic. Whoever has been training you has done a magnificant job, Harry, but you need better training.

Yes, I know you used to be Harry Potter. I used to know your parents. When they died, I thought you would be safe with your Muggle Aunt and her family, but apparently they didn’t feel the same way. No matter; as long as you are happy and safe now. There is great evil in the world, my boy. One such evil goes by the name of Lord Voldemort, and with the death of your parents you managed somehow to defeat him. But his banishment was only temporary and a month ago, he returned. I fear the war between Wizards, light and dark, is about to erupt, and it will be the bloodiest war the world had ever seen.

I beg of you to return. Let us train you. You, who is prohacised to defeat the Lord Voldemort, and when you are ready I will be beside you, fighting to protect our world.

If you agree, just say, ‘Portus’.

Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts.

He read it over, and then re-read it. With a frown he passed it to his father. “Ainion,” the Professor said, “you do not have to go. You’re a child, you can’t be expected to go off on your own and fight evil. You’re powerful yes, but,” Harry opened his mouth to protest but the Professor kept talking. “but, you are still a child. And I won’t have a child of mine running around on their own on the other side of the world.”

“He won’t be alone.” A voice said softly. Everyone turned to stare at Liz Sherman. While completely human in appearance, Liz had the power to set and control fires with her mind. The Pyrokinetic also happened to be Hellboy’s girlfriend. “I’ll go with him. No, Red,” she said as the other son of the Professor opened his mouth. Hellboy was large, and red. One of his hands was made of stone, and he had two horns on his forehead which he filed down to look more normal. “Red, you’re needed here. Maybe someone there can give me some training too.”

She was ten years older than Harry, and while she was arguably as powerful, she had much less control over her magic than Harry did over his. Liz actually was looking forward to leaving. Being around Hellboy for too long was a straining experience, and while she loved him, she hated him in equal parts. But as they say, love and hate are two sides of the same coin. She supposed she couldn’t love all of him all of the time.

“Very well,” Trevor said with a sigh. He sat down in one of the chairs around the table and smiled as Harry sat in the chair closest to him. “Stay safe.”

“Do you think someone will come to get us?” Liz asked as she reached out to squeeze Harry’s shoulder.

He grinned at her. “Let’s see, shall we? Portus.” With a pop, and a feeling similar to being hooked in the stomach by a fishing line, both Liz and Harry dissapeared with the letter.

Harry met many different types of people, some he had encountered before, like Vampires and Werewolves, and some that he hadn’t. He was rather impressed by the Veela women he had noticed wondering around. Apparently, they had remained in the country after playing mascots for their national Quidditch team earlier that year. Harry didn’t know what Quidditch was and he didn’t particularly care. Especailly not after Dumbledore met them, and took them both shopping.

Apparently Harry’s parents had been quite rich, and with the money they had left him, he bought a wand. Then he bought some Wizarding clothing for Liz and himself, and he also bought a few small, pretty things for all of his family back in the States. Despite the fact that he was fourteen, they placed him into his first year at Hogwarts. He was three years older than his classmates, but he didn’t care too much because Liz stayed with him at all times, even when he slept.

“She’s my brother’s girlfriend, ew!” He had said, when his Head of House found him curled up beside her one night, and docked points for his indiscretion. Severus Snape was not a nice man, but he didn’t seem to hate Harry as much as Dumbledore had warned him Snape might. Harry wouldn’t have cared anyway. Living with Hellboy had taught Harry to let insults fly right over his head: after all, one of the brothers had to be level headed. It wouldn’t be very fair on the humans if both of them got angry at the same time.

Harry did all he could to help the war effort, in between studying and exams, and Quidditch practise, which Snape insisted he attend.

When the war finally came to a head, it was June of 2000, and Harry was just about finished with his sixth year. While Harry had been trained in every area of magic the Wizards could find a teacher for, but there weren’t that many Elementals left. There wasn’t much they could do to help Liz except for teaching her Occlumency, but even then she still found it hard to handle her emotions. The control she held over the fire depended on the control she had over her emotions. During the final battle, Harry managed to kill Voldemort. However, he was severly injured in the process, and as he lay, panting on the ground beside her, Liz lost what little control she had left.

The fire sprang up around her, licking at her face and her hands, and scorching the ground she sat upon. She cradled Harry against her chest, and anyone who came too close to him was burnt or killed by her magic. She couldn’t control it, she wasn’t strong enough to stop it, and her fear for Harry made her numb to the pain she was causing others. When she was subdued, by magic, she had already killed ten people, four of whom had fought on Harry’s side of the war.

Harry had chosen to stay and finish his last year of schooling. But Liz had run away. She went back to America. The moment she arrived in New York she checked herself in to a mental hospital, and listed Harry as her only next of kin. Harry would be the only person allowed to visit her.

XXX

2004

Harry sat stiffly.

Hellboy had saved the world from the threath of Rasputin and Kroenen, but his world was over. Harry had gone travelling around the world once he had graduated from Hogwarts. A boy he had made friends with had gone with him, and the two of them had enjoyed the sights, the food, and each other for three years. Of those three years, Liz remained in the hospital until Hellboy begged her to come back to them. Harry had come home, happy and excited, despite having left his friend, Draco, behind in Wiltshire; he expecting to be greeted back warmly by his father.

But his father wasn’t there.

Kroenen had murdered his father, and while Hellboy had gotten his own revenge Harry hadn’t been around to help. He didn’t have the closure his brother had gotten, nor had he the same amount of time to move past his grief. He sat now, surrounded on all sides by grievers and well wishers and nosy so-and-sos who just wanted what was ‘best’ for him. He was twenty-four bloody years old! He didn’t need some stranger coming into his life to take care of him. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

He didn’t even need Hellboy.

Fuck Hellboy, he thought angrily. If Hellboy had been any good he would have told him their father was dead. Harry had arrived at the Mansion only ten minutes after the others had gotten back from Moscow. They had buried the Professor before they left for Russia, but they had never had a ceremony. So they were having one now. Harry wondered if he would have been invited. Maybe they just wouldn’t have bothered? After all he hadn’t come back to visit Liz while he was travelling, so why would they extend to him any courtesy?

But damn it, he cursed to himself, it was his father! The only adult he could ever remember loving him!

When the ceremony was over, Harry didn’t speak to anyone. Angry, and bitter, he walked away from the rest of the mourners. Hellboy watched him go. He narrowed his eyes as his brother walked away from them, but Abe grabbed hold of his arm.

“Let him grieve.” The amphibian said. He held his hand up, palm facing towards Harry’s retreating form and said, “Ainion is in pain. He needs some time alone.”

“How much time?” Was Hellboy’s gruff reply.

“I do not know.”

Harry didn’t come back for four years.

XXX

2008

Prince Nuada did not believe that human kind could be redeemed.

Many years ago he had begged his father, the one-armed Balor of Bethmoora, to allow the Goblins to create a mechanical army for them. They used the army to fight with the humans, and the humans were driven to near extinction. Seeing the destruction caused by his army the Woodland King forged a truce with the humans. The humans would keep the cities, and in return they would stay out of the forests. Nuada did not agree. He could not believe that the humans would up hold their end of the bargain, and so he left his home and his family and was not seen for more than one hundred years. With the passing of time the humans slowly forgot about the Elves and those other creatures that had sided with the Elves. As they forgot the creatures, they forgot the treaty.

Nuada sneered as he watched several bulldozers at work. Where they stood, used to stand several trees, all of which were older than the men who operated the machinery. The Prince narrowed his eyes as the humans felled another tree. He turned his back on them.

He crossed the road, and waited, looking up at the large doors in front of him. Mr. Wink would arrive soon, and then he could have his revenge.

“Ah, you’re here.” The creature before him gave a grunt. Mr. Wink could only be described as the offspring of a troll and a goblin. He was tall, and as strong as any troll, but he had the weight of a goblin, and the brains and the cruelty. “You have them?” Mr. Wink lifted his arms, showing off the two metal boxes he carried. The front of each box was emblazoned with the royal crest, turned upside down. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

Nuada watched the humans. From where he stood, they couldn’t see him but he had a perfect view. The humans he was watching were not in the auction room with the others, but one of the men was the auctioneer. The auctioneer sighed, and Nuada had no trouble hearing what was said. Elves had far better senses than humans and even the words that were whispered were loud enough for Nuada to hear from the other room. He held his finger to his lips and turned so Mr. Wink could see him. The troll stopped moving.

“My Lord, Ainion, would like to inquire after one of your collection.” The second man said. He was tall, with waist length brown hair pulled back by a ribbon. He wore Wizarding robes a shade darker than his hair colour, and they fell to the floor in soft waves around his slim figure. For a human, Nuada decided he was attractive. But what caught his attention was the name of this man’s master.

Ainion.

An Elvin name.

The auctioneer sighed. “Which lot?”

“The number I do not know. What Lord Potter searches for is the crown of Bethmoora. The one that controls the Golden Army. There should be three pieces, you have one, and my Lord wants it.”

“God no!” The auctioneer laughed. “That’s are main lot, I can’t give that away!”

The Wizard smiled. His lips pulled back over his teeth, showing the elongated eyeteeth that pointed to some Vampire blood in his line. “Ainion is willing to make it worth your while.” He waved a velvet pouch in the man’s face, but the human only turned his nose up.

While he was tempted, he didn’t want to risk losing money by selling it to this strange man rather than auctioning it. “I’m afraid not.”

“My Lord will be most displeased.”

“Your lord will have to get over it.” The auctioneer sneered.

“He thought you might refuse. He has a message for you, in that case.” The auctioneer waved his hand in an ‘get on with it’ manner. The Wizard smirked, eyeteeth flashing again. “Llie n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina.”8 The Wizard’s pronunciation wasn’t as good as Harry’s, but it was understandable.

In the shadows, Prince Nuada suppressed a chuckle. It had been a long time since he had heard anyone speak his language, and the sound of it was welcome, even from this man who did it no justice. Nuada wondered if he might ever get to meet this Ainion, whether he be elf or otherwise. He would be interesting.

“Oh, also, Dolle naa lost.”9

The auctioneer grimaced at the other man, before turning away. “Let’s get started,” he called and two more men entered the room. All three of them entered the adjacent room and closed the door behind them. The Wizard stared after them, a frown on his handsome face before he took a deep breath.

He whistled. Prince Nuada jumped back in shock as a pure white owl flew right passed his head, and landed gracefully on the arm of the stranger. “Marcaunon will be very displeased, Hedwig. I wonder if he wishes me to kill them, and take the crown piece?” The owl gave a displeased hoot. “No, you’re right. As angry as he is with the world, Ainion will not have me kill in his name.” The owl took flight again, and then the man disappeared with a ‘pop’.

Nuada stepped further into the room, looking around with narrowed eyes. Where had that man gone? He was not human, that much Nuada was certain of. But what else could he be? He looked, and smelt, human. The Elves did not have much contact with Wizardkind during the reign of the Golden Army, and understandably Nuada did not know of them still, as he had been in exile while humankind over populated.

“Mr. Wink.” The troll grunted. “Hurry up.”

Mr. Wink left the room silently; the two boxes remained on the ground. The lights went out, and the troll returned moments later. Screaming came from inside the auction room and with a smirk Nuada threw open the doors and walked inside.

“No, not extinct,” he drawled, in answer to the auctioneer’s last words. They continued to scream at one another. The auctioneer stood at the front of the room, the crown piece held in one hand and a gravel in the other.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice tight. “What do you want?”

Mr. Wink followed him into the room. He placed one box on the ground by the door and passed the other one to the Prince. Nuada laid it beside his feet with a smile. He looked at the auctioneer. “Who was that man? The one who wanted to buy the crown from you?”

“I-I don’t know.” The man stuttered, holding the gold against his chest like a shield. “He’s from England, he said. He works for a collector, Lord Potter or someone. He had a strange name.”

“Strange to you, maybe.” He drawled, walking closer. “But you are a strange race, are you not? Hand over the crown. It’s time it was returned to its rightful owner.” Nuada held his hand out, but the human refused to hand it over.

“You can’t rob me!” He exclaimed. “I’ll call the authorit-” Nuada threw something at him, cutting him off. It was some manner of creature. The small creature attached itself to the auctioneer’s face and its tail went into the man’s mouth as it fed.

As the other human’s screamed, Prince Nuada opened the door of the box by his feet. He watched Mr. Wink do the same thing.

“Let this remind you why you once feared the dark.”

The tooth fairies, all very hungry, flew into the room. They ate the humans, stripping their flesh from the bones faster than even a piranha could, and Prince Nuada watched with a smirk.

In New York City, in a flat five blocks away from where Harry had lived with his father, two Wizards sat staring at the television. “He said no then.” One said, brows furrowed. They weren’t actually watching anything in particular, but the station was set to the news.

“And then I insulted him in Elvish as you instructed me to.” The half-Vampire said with a smirk. “Why was that anyway?”

Harry smiled back at his friend. “I’ve always been able to speak Elvish.” Harry told the other Wizard. The Wizard was called Dalton Aldridge and he had attended Hogwarts in the same year Harry had been placed. During the final battle a Vampire had bitten Dalton, but the healer in the school had managed to save him from turning completely. Harry had been the only person brave enough to be Dalton’s friend during their second year. Harry’s other good friend Draco had graduated while Harry was still in fifth year, and Liz had left after his sixth, so Harry didn’t really mind the fact that Dalton was a vampire as long as he was a friend. After graduation, Harry went travelling with Draco, and Dalton trained to be an accountant.

When Harry’s father died, he fled back to the Wizarding world. He legally changed his name to Marcaunon, but kept the name Potter because it was a Pureblood surname. While Dalton was fully trained, many people were hesitant to employ a vampire. Harry had sought Dalton out when he returned to London, and taken him on as the manager of his accounts and estate. Ever since then, whenever Harry wanted something, Dalton was more than happy to fetch it for him.

“I asked you to use Elvish because I knew he would be there.”

“Who, Ainion?”

“Prince Nuada Silverlance. Prince of the Woodland.” Dalton frowned, but kept silent. If Harry wanted to explain, he was welcome to. “I ran into Luna a month ago. She was the one to recommend I collect the crown pieces. She said I was gifted with the language of the Elves, because I am to be the mate of one.”

“The Prince?”

“That’s what she implied, but you know what Luna can be like.”

“And yet you take her at her word, my Lord.” Dalton was frowning again. He seemed to do that a lot.

“I trust her word, my friend, because she hasn’t been wrong yet.”

“Is Draco coming by?” Dalton asked, mouth turning down in distaste. While Draco had married, and produced his first and likely only heir, it didn’t stop him from falling into Harry’s bed once in a while. When they were together it was just like being back at school, sneaking around and hoping not to get caught. Harry doubted Draco’s wife would care, but the papers would have a field day. Dalton didn’t believe in being adulterous. He thought that because Draco had married, he should have immediately lost all interest in Harry.

“No. If I am to mate with an Elf, I won’t be able to see Draco like that anymore. It has been made clear to him.”

“He’s sulking, isn’t he?” Dalton chuckled.

“He’ll come around, with time.”

Time passed quickly as they spoke. They talked about Harry’s childhood in America, the things he had never told anyone but Draco. He shared those things with Dalton now, and the vampire listened silently and reached out to his friend when Harry needed the comfort. “Do you miss him?” The longhaired man asked.

“I’ll always miss my father.”

“Uh, Harry?” Harry turned his head, following Dalton’s gaze to the television. There was his brother, on the TV, falling out of the window of the auction house. With a crash, Hellboy landed on one of the police cruisers, before turning his head to grin at one of the cameras.

“What an idiot.”

“What the hell is that?” Dalton exclaimed. “Some kind of demon?”

“Almost,” Harry acquiesced. “My brother.” Dalton turned to him with wide eyes. Harry could only shrug in response.

XXX

It had been years since Harry had last come home. He hadn’t quite managed to work up the courage to come home after watching Hellboy on the television. He watched Hellboy again, some weeks later as he fought the forest god. He had stood in the back of the ground, half of him cheering Red on, and the other half cringing as the old god, the last of its kind, was destroyed.

As the rest of the crowd shouted and snarled at Hellboy, damning him for saving them, Harry stood silently at the back. And he clapped. Hellboy might not have heard him, but Prince Nuada did.

The Prince watched the man clap slowly. Green eyes watched the demon, and the man by his side was the same man from the auction house. Nuada leant down, closer to the roof of the building he was perched upon. He wanted a better look at the young man called Ainion.

“We should go.” Dalton said softly.

“I’m going to have to go back, aren’t I?”

“Yes. You should have gone back sooner.” The vampire chided his friend. “You belong there.”

”I know. Do you think he’ll spank me again?”

“He’s spanked you!?” Dalton exclaimed.

Nuada watched them avidly. The green-eyed man, the one with the short black hair, looked good enough to eat. He sniffed, nostrils flaring, but he could only catch the rain and the flowery scent the dead forest god gave off. There was something about the other human, (though if he’s name was Ainion then he couldn’t be an ordinary human), that had gotten hold of the Prince.

“Yeah, I was thirteen, and we went to this Explorer’s Club in the city. Well, actually Hellboy went, and I snuck along after him. They had just gotten hold of this Mummy, and it was awake and it told Hellboy a story. I got curious. I prodded the Mummy, and I knocked it over. Considering it was rather old, it turned to dust. The club members blamed Hellboy and threw him out of the Club. When we got home, he was so angry with me. He threw me over his lap the second there was somewhere to sit down and spanked me in front of everyone! I mean, everyone! I don’t think my father has ever laughed so hard.” Harry’s cheeks were flaming red by the end of his story.

“That is priceless.” Dalton chuckled. He took Harry by the arm and started leading him away from the crowd. “It must have been kind of cool to have an older brother.”

“You realize that Hellboy is thirty-six years older than me, right? That’s like having two fathers!”

“Bet you loved it, though.”

“Yeah I did.” Dalton threw his arm around Harry’s neck and the two of them continued to walk back to their flat. Neither of them noticed Nuada following them home.

The Prince snuck in through the window as the two Wizards slept. He was very pleased to note they had separate bedrooms. He stood by the edge of Harry’s bed, his hand hovering over the man’s forehead. Finally, he touched the man’s fringe, pushing it back out of the way. The lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead didn’t stand out as much as it did while Voldemort was alive, but it was still there. Nuada traced it with his fingertip, a small frown on his face as he imagined this man in pain.

“Who are you? What are you to me?”

“You don’t know?” A voice asked from behind him.

Nuada spun around, his dagger in his hand. He had been nicknamed ‘Silverlance’ because of his habit of using collapsible daggers, that could grow in length to form a rather long, sharp spear. The point of the spear embedded in the wall, as the vampire used his super fast reflexes to dodge the weapon. “What are you?”

“Half vampire.” Dalton told him, eyeing the weapon warily.

Nuada pulled it back, and when it was the length of a dagger again he tucked it into his belt. “Lle holma ve' edan.”10

“Hey now, there’s no need to insult me. This is my house remember.”

“I am Prince Nuada.”

“I know who you are. The one who killed his father over some jewellery?” Nuada bared his teeth at the vampire, snarling lightly. “You’re going to wake him up. Perhaps we should continue this at another time?”

Nuada took another quick look at the human in the bed, before he jumped out of the window. He landed gracefully, on his feet, four stories below them. He didn’t look back as he walked away. Dalton spent the rest of the night sitting, wide-awake, at the edge of Harry’s bed in case the Elf came back.

XXX

When Harry finally arrived at Professor Bruttenholm’s old home the place seemed to be deserted. Harry frowned at Dalton, looking around for the usual guards who patrolled outside of the mansion.

“I smell blood.” Dalton said after a moments pause. “A lot of blood.”

“Probably the guards.” Harry said calmly. Yes people had died, but they were not his concern. Nuada was probably already here. He had to keep the Prince from awakening the Golden Army; that was the reason Luna had warned him of the Elf’s plans. From what he had heard, and seen on TV, the Princess Nuala was living with his family as well. “Come on, I know another way inside.”

Hellboy jumped to the side, dodging the spear for a second time. The alcohol in his system made everything fuzzy. The room was spinning, but that damn Elf kept thrusting the weapon towards him and he wasn’t just going to stand there and get stabbed. He tripped. For a moment he thought the ground was rising up to meet him, and he didn’t see the metal point of the spear fly towards his chest. But Liz did.

“RED!” She screamed. Her worry for her lover was unnecessary, however. At the very last moment, before the spear could touch Hellboy, another body blocked its path.

“Tanya awra!”11 Harry hissed. He looked down at the metal tip that had broken off from the spear, and was sticking out of his chest, inches from his heart. He looked up at Nuada in time to see the spear apparently heal itself, re-growing the tip of the weapon without magic. “Bloody fucking hell, that hurt!”

The Elvin prince watched the human man. His hand was pressed against the wound, and stranglely the metal had not moved an inch. Nuada knew for a fact that if a human were to go near the metal to remove it, it would keep inching closer and closer to the victim’s heart. But it wasn’t moving. Maybe this boy wasn’t human? The scent of the man’s blood finally reached him, and he breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring. His eyes widened, mouth opening in shock. “Melanin?” He asked, voice soft as a feather.

Beside him, his twin sister gasped at her brother’s word. “Mate?” She asked him, her voice hushed so only he would hear her. “You must heal him. Nuada, heal your mate!”

Harry had remained on his feet. His face was flushed, and the vampire hovered close to his side, worrying his bottom lip. Harry looked strangely calm for someone who had been stabbed, for someone who was going to die. But then again, he thought, no one really knows what happened to me during the war, except Liz. And even then she didn’t know that Harry had died, and remained dead for five full minutes. He looked straight at Nuada; his green eyes alight with pain and sadness.

Nuada shook his head lightly. He could not give up his quest now, not when he would soon have all three pieces. Not when he had come so far. “No ce ammaer ab lû thent.”12 Prince Nuada whispered, wide eyes holding the gaze of his mate’s. He took hold of his sister’s arm, his grip punishingly tight. Together they disappeared. When they were gone, Harry allowed himself to collapse to the floor.

XXX

“At least he doesn’t have the last piece,” Johann Krauss said. He was the spirit of a medium, housed in a special suit that enabled him to walk and talk and touch things. “That’s a good thing.”

“We have to rescue the Princess.” Abe Sapien said. One hand was held behind his back, and the other was clutching at Johann’s suit. “Please!”

“It’s too dangerous. We have to focus on finding the hidden final piece of the crown.”

Harry watched them argue from where he sat. Dalton, not being technically living, had been able to remove the piece of metal from his chest. He had used his own magic to heal himself, but Mr. Krauss wasn’t taking any chances with his safety. He was banned from searching for the crown piece, apparently no one was rescuing the Princess, and he wasn’t even allowed to tell Hellboy that Liz was pregnant.

The hand Abe held behind his back clenched and unclenched. Harry’s eyes caught the flash of something shinny, hidden beneath his blue fingers. Harry rolled his eyes. When Abe stormed from the room, Harry followed him, ignoring Krauss and Director Tom Manning who were calling for him to come back and rest where they could keep him safe. Harry snorted at the thought that a human and a bag of smoke could protect him better than he could protect himself. He knew he would get stabbed, but he knew he would survive. He wasn’t sure if Hellboy would though, so he had figured the end justified the means, and allowed the spear to impale him.

“You have the last piece.” Harry said, looking around to make sure no one else was there. He spotted Hellboy who waved slowly, but didn’t come any closer.

“No,” Abe protested. “No I don’t.”

“Blue, I’ve grown up with you. I know you better than that.”

“I have to save her, Ainion, I have to.” Abe clutched at Harry’s shirt, pulling the younger man against him. The boy looked no older than early twenties, despite the fact that he was almost in his thirties. Harry had come to terms with the fact that he would always be small.

“She is your Melanin.”

“What? I don’t understand that language Harry.”

“All Elves have a soul mate, one person they are destined to love forever. However, with the expansion of human kind, and the fact that elves find it hard to reproduce, in recent years its become harder and harder to find a Melanin. You appear to be the Princess’ soul mate, just as I belong to the Prince.”

“Nuala and I, we connect with one another. When she’s around, it’s like I’m different, better than I could ever hope to be. She completes me. She makes me happy. And I am told I make her happy as well. The Prince did not appear to react to you like that, Ainion.” Abe spoke slowly, not wanting to offend his youngest family member.

Harry just chuckled. “The Princess’ heart is more open than her brother’s. In time, he will learn to feel what the Valar intended him to feel.” He smiled slowly. “He is already attracted to me. He spent the other night watching me sleep.”

“That was, uh, more than I needed to know.”

Harry merely laughed harder. When he had calmed, he held his hand out and Abe placed the piece of the crown within the younger man’s palm. “Let’s go find the Golden Army.”

“You aren’t going anywhere without us!” Liz chided, coming up from behind them.

Harry was quick to hide the piece of gold, knowing full well that the others wouldn’t let him hand it over. “Of course you are coming. Dalton, you ready?”

“Yes, my Lord, I am.” The vampire gave a low bow, and then stood ready and waiting. “How are we getting there?”

“We’ll borrow a plane,” Johann said. If he had a face, Harry thought he might have been smirking.

XXX

Harry had it all planned out in his head. He was going to arrive and say something witty in Elvish, and catch Nuada off his guard. Then he had planned to trade the crown piece for the Princess’ freedom. He’d hand her over to Abe, then go to give the piece to Nuada. The Prince would then realize they were meant to be together, because Luna had promised the Prince would come to terms with it in time, and they would kiss, forgetting all about the Golden Army. And then Hellboy would say something to embarrass him.

But that wasn’t how it had happened.

It couldn’t have gone more wrong if Harry had planned it to.

When they arrived Nuada had his sister by the arm and they were both shouting. It looked, for a moment, as if the Prince might strike her, but Harry knew better. The empath, Abe, should have known that as well, but he let his own emotions take control of him. “Marcaunon, give him the crown piece!” He shouted, and both of the Elves turned to stare at him.

“We don’t have the crown piece,” Hellboy said slowly, flicking the ash off of his cigar.

“Yes he does. Give to him. He’s hurting her.” Abe continued to shout. Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated. He was about to speak, but there was a dagger at his throat. Nuada’s free hand was around his waist, and he led the man towards the dais hurriedly, the dagger never moving from his neck.

Nuada did not seem to care that it was his mate he was threatening. Though, in truth it bothered him a lot and he was just very good at hiding his discomfort. Nuala watched him with worried eyes, her hands pressed to his mouth. “Give me the piece,” Nuada ordered.

“Hû nîn mant han,”13 Harry told him with a smirk.

The dagger pressed just that bit closer to him, and Nuada hissed against his ear, “give it to me.”

“Garich i dhôl goll o Orch.”14 Harry hissed at him, eyes narrowed in anger. It wasn’t so much that he was angry at being threatened. It was more the fact that the Prince seemed to be rejecting him as a mate, and that was what made him angry. He had given up Draco, whom he had once love, and loved still, so he could be with his Melanin. And the Prince thought that an army of bloody metal was more important that Ainion.

“Anno nin-”15 Nuada shouted. He trailed off as Harry held out the golden crown piece. He snatched it from his mate’s hand, and pushed the boy away. Harry stumbled, but righted himself before he could fall. Nuada watched him, his hand came out in case he had to catch the other man but Harry pushed the hand away. He stalked off the dais and went to stand by his brother.

“Save it, Red,” he snarled before the demon could even open his mouth.

Harry had watched him awaken the Golden Army, and he had watched as his family fought them off. Strangely (or perhaps not so strange he thought as he noticed Nuada’s gave never left his person) none of the army attempted to attack him. That fact didn’t stop him from attacking the army though. He never moved from where he stood, but he waved his wand in front of him and the golden machines fell to pieces in front of him.

Hellboy gave him a high five, and pulled Liz into a hug when the last of the army was destroyed. “It’s not that easy,” Harry whispered, interrupting the celebration.

“You cannot kill something that does not live,” Dalton added. He pointed at the machines. They were slowly pulling themselves back together again, reattaching severed limbs and heads.

“Oh shit,” Hellboy cursed. Nuada’s smile stretched across his face.

There had been no other choice. Hellboy had to challenge Nuada’s right to command the Golden Army, and Nuada had to accept. Harry watched them fight one another. Each attacking, and defending, and parrying in turn. When his brother’s sword caught the Prince across the face, the Princess bled as well. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight of blood on the Elf’s face, but he hurt just as much when it was his brother who was injured. When they finally stopped fighting, Nuada lay panting on the ground. Hellboy held the spear to his throat.

“Kill me,” the Prince said, “for I will not stop.”

“Don’t!” Abe cried, “You’ll kill the Princess as well.” Abe had rushed to her side, and was now holding her hands tightly as she smiled warmly back at him. Nuada turned his head to watch them, before his eyes sought out Harry’s. Green eyes watched him, carefully assessing his injuries, but they did not seem to hold any emotion for him apart from worry that he might die and take Nuala with him. He turned his face away slowly, hesitantly looking away from his mate. His mate did not want him. He did not want to live with that knowledge. It was selfish to damn his sister, but he could not live knowing he had driven his Melanin to despise him.

He stood, crouched behind Hellboy whose back was turned, and pulled a knife out of his boot. He raised his hand, and prepared to jump. Once again, he found Harry between his blade and his intended target. “Daro I!”16 Harry said, slapping the knife from the Prince’s hand. “Is it so hard to not pick a fight?”

“Reminds me a bit of Draco, don’t you think?” Dalton drawled, coming to stand beside his friend.

Hellboy turned around. He still held the spear in his hand and he raised it to Nuada. “Ainion, get out of the way.”

“No.” The Wizard answered, swallowing. He didn’t like going against his brother’s instructions, because his brother generally only ordered him around to keep him safe. But he wouldn’t allow the Prince to be killed. “No, Aratoamin, I won’t let you.”17

“You have to, Marcaunon. Now get out of my way.” He took a step forward but Harry didn’t budge.

“How dare you threaten him?” Nuada hissed. He reached out and took hold of Harry’s arm. He pulled the boy backwards, moving to stand protectively in front of his mate. He crouched down, preparing himself to jump to his mate’s defence, but the red demon just stared back at him slack jawed.

“What are you doing?” Hellboy asked incredulously.

“He is protecting his Melanin,” Nuala answered. She had a knife in her hand as well, and it was poised above her own heart. “Should I?” She asked softly, her gaze searching Harry’s.

“No. No one needs to die today. Please put it down, Princess.” She lowered her hand, and Abe was quick to take her weapon away. “Can you all just go outside for a minute? Please?” Harry looked around at them. They were his family, new and old, and most of them had learnt better than to argue with the young man when he wanted something.

“We’re right outside, Ainion, ok?” Liz said softly as she reached out to take the crown from Hellboy. As she left the room, she set it on fire, melting the gold beyond repair.

“If you scream, I’ll know you want help.” Dalton grinned cheekily, “plus, I’ll smell you if you bleed.”

“Well, I know I’m safe with you around,” Harry deadpanned, his tone very dry. The vampire chuckled, and even Hellboy cracked a smile at his brother’s dark sense of humour.

“If you need me,” the demon said.

“I will always need you, but I’m big enough to take care of myself, don’t you think?” Hellboy gave him a pat on the back, and it was strong enough to send Harry pitching forward. Nuada’s arms around his waist steadied him, and kept him from falling.

“Hello.” The Elf said.

Their faces were inches apart. With a smile, Harry did what he had planned to do from the beginning. He leant in closer, his lips meeting those of the immortal, and he moaned softly as the arms around him tightened. Their lips moved against one another’s, the soft flesh parting beneath curious tongues. Harry gave another moan, having found himself pinned against the floor, with the Elf above him, pressing down against him.

He could feel every inch and hard plane of Nuada’s body, every muscle. Harry pulled his head back, panting, trying to draw in as much breath as he could before Nuada’s mouth moved back to claim his own. Hand’s tangled in the Elf’s long blond hair, pulling his head down further. Harry’s legs rose, curling around Nuada’s hips, locking the other body in place.

Their clothing remained in place, and their bodies were not joined that night, but Nuada felt Harry come into his heart and his soul, and he knew they had become one in the way that mattered most. Harry felt the rush of the other’s magic through him, and he arched his back. His orgasm rushed through him, and where he was hard a moment ago, he was now soft and sticky and satisfied. Nuada continued to rock on top of him, his release having passed as well, and he smiled down at his Melanin.

“I am sorry I harmed you.” His fingers reached out to brush Harry’s throat. There was no mark, but Nuada could envisage the exact place where his dagger had touched easily enough.

“It is forgiven. Just don’t do it again.”

The Prince nodded slowly, another warm smile on his face. “I have not felt like this in so long.” He mused. “What have you done to me?”

“How do you feel?” Harry enquired, reaching up to brush the Elf’s hair back away from his face. He placed a chaste kiss to Nuada’s cheek, and smiled.

“Happy.” He was awarded with a kiss to the chin from Harry. “Le no an-uir nîn?”18 He asked hopefully, his fingers tracing the dips and curves of his mate’s face and neck.

“For much longer.” Harry vowed. “Le melon.”19 He breathed, gasping as Nuada’s stole another kiss from him, just as passionate as their first.

“Thank you, little one.”

It was meant as a compliment, but Harry narrowed his eyes anyway. He didn’t like to be reminded of the fact that at 28, he still only looked nineteen or twenty-years-old. He punched Nuada lightly on the shoulder and scowled. “I’m not little.”

“If you say so, Melanin. Far be it for me to deny my mate anything.” The Prince chuckled, highly amused and rolled off of his love. “They are waiting for you. Should we go to them?”

“Sure,” Harry drawled, accepting Nuada’s hand and allowing the Elf to pull him to his feet. “I hope you’re prepared to be laughed at. Hellboy can’t resist a joke at my expense.” He pulled his wand out, and waved it twice, cleaning both himself and the Prince of their pleasure and then deemed them ready to leave. “Prepare to meet the family.” He drawled, swinging open the doors.

“Ainion!” Liz gasped, the red mark on Harry’s neck still visible. Harry had not realized it was there so he had not healed it. “Is that why you asked us to leave, so you could get your freak on?” She grinned at him, wriggling her hips lightly, teasingly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, hand flying up at cover his neck. “Have you told Red about the baby yet?”

Her eyes widened at him, then narrowed. She silently promised him pain. “Baby?” Hellboy asked, looking between them in confusion.

She held up two fingers and smiled shyly. “Babies. As in plural.”

“Twins?” She nodded. Hellboy grinned.

Harry watched them with a smile on his face as well. Nuada’s arm came around his waist, and he leant back against the Elf. His mate wasn’t evil; he knew that. He was angry and bitter at the human world and he had wanted revenge. He hadn’t gotten his revenge though, but he had gotten something better. Harry smiled at the Prince. Nuada pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling back at him, pleased with the outcome of the evening. So he hadn’t been able to destroy all of mankind, but he had a mate who loved him. And he could always convince his Melanin to take over the world with him next year.

As if he could read his thoughts, Harry chuckled lightly. Some people just couldn’t change. He knew the Prince would probably continue to hate all humans, but him, for the rest of his life, but Harry was confident that he would be enough to distract his mate. Having the twins arrive soon would also help keep them all on their toes. Harry had the fullest intention of making Nuada help out. It would be good practise for their own future children, of which Harry wanted at least three.

“Who is having twins?” Hellboy asked suddenly, looking at Nuala with a raised eyebrow. She blushed crimson and turned her face away, giving a quick shake of her head when her brother met her gaze.

Liz and Harry looked at one another and laughed. Liz took Red’s hand and placed it on her stomach, still laughing, even as Hellboy’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ as his eyes widened. Harry shook his head again, pressing against the Elf as he giggled. His brother was stupid sometimes, but Harry loved him anyway. He rather hoped Hellboy never changed.

This group of misfits was his family, and freakish as they were, there wasn’t a thing about them that Harry would change.

He was happy with them, just they way they were.

He smirked at Nuada, and winked. He did like the idea, though, of expanding his family. He wondered what his Melanin would say to that.

The End

* * *

1 – “Le suilon” [Lay swee-lonn] Translation: I greet thee.

2 – “Mae govannen” [My go-VAH-nen] Translation: Well met.

3 – “Lle tyava quel?” Translation: Do you feel well?

4 – “Mára mesta” [Mah-rah meh-stah] Translation: Goodbye.

5 – “Tevenyel” [Teh-vehn-yell] Translation: I hate you.

6 – “Ainion” [Eye-nee-on] Translation: Angelo, meaning angel.

7 – “Marcaunon” [Mar-cow-nonn] Translation: Henry, meaning ruler of the home. (Harry: see Henry).

8 – “Llie n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina.” Translation: You’re ugly and your mother dresses you funny.

9 – “Dolle naa lost.” Translation: Your head is empty.

10 – “Lle holma ve' edan” Translation: You smell like a human. (It’s an insult).

11 – “Tanya awra!” Translation: That hurt.

12 – “No ce ammaer ab lû thent” [No kay ahm-myre ahb loo thehnt] Translation: May you be better soon.

13 – “Hû nîn mant han” [Hoo neen mahnt hahn] Translation: My dog ate it

14 – “Garich i dhôl goll o Orch” [Gahr-eekh ee thole goal oh orkh] Translation: You have the hollow head of an orc

15 – “Anno nin” [Ahn-no neen] Translation: Give me…

16 – “Daro I!” [DAR-oh ee!] Translation: Stop that!

17 – “Aratoamin” Translation: My champion.

18 – “Le no an-uir nîn?” [Lay no ahn-oo-ear neen?] Translation: Will you be mine forever?

19 – “Le melon” [Lay mell-on] Translation: I love you

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it… I don’t know where they lived in the film, since it definitely wasn’t New Mexico, so I’m making it New York. Though, knowing how weird I am, no one will read this. Oh well. I’ll do The Lambs some time this weekend.

I couldn’t think of a decent way to end this. I just wanted it to keep going on and on, but I knew I had to stop eventually. It’s getting late where I live and no doubt I’ll be woken up really early tomorrow.

Words: 11,319
Chapter 2/2
Melanin II
CHAPTER 2 of 3 HERE