.:: The Heir of Slytherin ::. [Part 28 - The After-Party]

"Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!" I cried out as I crashed down on the couch in the Room of Requirement, a bottle of rum clinched in my hand. Then I lifted the bottle up above my head and downed more than half of it.

"Mmm," I said, as I rested myself in the pillows that were set up on the couch and smiled as I shot a quick look at what everyone was doing.

Ginny, Hermione and Kate were sitting on a couch shooting me annoyed glances for whatever reason, probably because they werent drunk and did not see the pleasure of being drunk and do things only drunken people do.

Angelina was dancing withLongbottom. So, that left Fredwhere exactly?

Oh, right next to me.

Ok, so I was really drunk.

Anyway, George was getting us more drinks at the self-made bar (produced by the Room of Requirement and edited by our spells) and Harry, Ron, Fred and I were crashed down on the couch, showing every sign of drunkenness.

"Harry, your elbow is killing me," Ron said then, pointing at Harry's elbow, which was obviously stuck somewhere in between Rons ribs.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said and moved away from Ron, which only caused him to sit closer to me. I couldn't say I didnt like that.

"The night is still young people," Fred said all of the sudden, as he downed the rest of his bottle of alcohol. "Filled with young hopes, young dreams, young music, and even...young love," he philosophised.

"Oh, stop pretending like you're the reincarnation of Homer," George said as he gave Fred a playful smack on the back. Then he tossed us all a bottle of rum and opened one himself, before he crashed down in between Fred and I.

"So, lets play a game," George suggested. "After all, it's only 2am. Who's up for game of Truth or Dare?"

"No, not that," I argued. "It's boring...Lets play...Have you ever?"

Fred groaned, but eventually gave in anyway, with the message: "Ah well, as long as I can keep enjoying the good stuff!", obviously talking about the rum.

"Fred, you're addicted, really," I said with a grin.

"Look who's talking, miss Gimme-more," Fred shot right back at me.

We laughed and then George suddenly exclaimed: "Are we going to play or what? I'll start. I have never gotten drunk before!" He drank to that, as did all of us. Obviously we were all pretty much drunk right now, so there was no point to lie.
"My turn," Fred announced. "I have never made out with a boy before!"

"I'm sorry hun, I'll have to drink to that," I said, laughing.

"I'd be worried if you wouldn't," Fred told me. "So, it's alright." I smiled at him and took a large sip of my bottle of rum.

We went on like that for a little while, until we got bored and started to dance. I dragged Fred and George on the dance floor and we began doing the Macarena, much to Harry's and Ron's pleasure, and much to Ginny and Hermiones dislike.

"Come on you guys, dont be so boring!" I ordered Harry and Ron as I pulled them up. "Lets dance!"

They joined in and it took me about an hour to realise Angelina, Katie, Neville, Ginny and Hermione had left the room. At the moment, I was too drunk to care.

"Lets play another game," I suggested, as I dropped down on the couch, pretty much exhausted. "What about we take turns to tell each other a secret."

"Sounds good enough," Ron gave in, as he too went to sit down next to me.

"I'll start," Fred suggested, as he joined us on the couch. "When we were nine, George and I stole Ronnies little teddybear. He looked for it for weeks, but we never said we had token it, because we thought he finally had to learn to sleep without it. When a couple of weeks later, he was still heart-broken, we put it back on his bed. He thought some ghost had stolen it and Mom and Dad kept wondering if we had a house-ghost."

I smirked. "Smooth one, Freddy boy," I said with a grin. "Ok, Harry, its your turn, tell us your dirty little secret!"

"Well, uh...When I was younger, I had a turtle named Jimbob. I always took him with me and I talked to him and he was my best friend. Then my cousin threw him out of the window." He seemed a little sad as he spoke and I put my hand on his arm as if to show I understood, even though I didnt know why one could miss a turtle that much.

My whole life, people had been ripped away from me, people who I cared for, people who had become a part of me. I had not done anything but loose them.

As if it was a reflex, my hand went to my shoulder and caressed the Slytherin tattoo. It reflected me in so many ways, and to me it was not only a sign of the pain I had suffered throughout all these years, it was also a reminder of the revenge I had yet to take. I had had so many bloody revenges before, but there was one more vengeance waiting ahead of me, one more thing I had to do before I could truly be free, one more choice I had to make.

"Robyn...wake up!" Harry said, waving his hand in front of me. "It's your turn," he added.

"Oh, sorry," I apologised. "Erm, alright." I was anxiously looking for what I could tell them; most of my secrets were too complicated to even begin about, and others were just mean to be kept a secret for as long as I lived.
Apart from what I told my friends on a daily base, I didn't really have any secrets I could tell them. Its not like I could begin talking about the decision I made fifteen years ago, about the reason why I had been on the run for so long, about the very reason why I kept lying to them, every single day.

My thoughts trailed off to an even more forgotten past, and I didn't know whether it was the alcohol that influenced my brain, but before I could stop my memory, I was back in the very room I had been in my early years as a vampire.

I remembered everything about that room, I spent so many years in. I remember the smell, his smell. The smell of a vampire, and the trail of blood he had left behind. The smell of darkness, darker than the fires of hell, darker than the death that awaited me, the punishment I would receive for all the murders I had committed and all the people I had killed. Because eventually I would get what I deserved anyway, then they would come back to haunt me, as if they had not done that already and I would scream and burn in the hell I despised and I had sent most of them too; people who once cared about me, people who I cared about, people who were killed by my hand.

Suddenly I began to panic, as if the alcohol had put everything in perspective for me. Was I insane? A psychopath? What had I done? For years, doing evil and killing people had been so normal to me, that I had nearly forgotten there were times when I did not threat people like dirt, and where I did not kill someone just because they happened to walk in my way.

Although my earliest memories are memories of the dungeon I had been in for a couple of months, before he, Azariel, the vampire who my Sire had been working for during the time I changed into a vampire, decided to move me over to more comfortable chambers, after I had finally given in and drunk the blood my kind needed.

The sweet sense of blood filled my tongue, and I realised too late I had bitten my lip and had licked away the blood that kept me alive. Azariel had taught me that. "Do not fear the darkness," he had said, "do not fear what you have become. For it truly is the only thing you'll ever be from now on. One should not fear himself or his own actions; one should not fear anything but the death that awaits those who are not immortal." With those words and thousands of other words, he had taught me not to feel, not to care; he had made me evil.

But perhaps, I had been evil all along.

How was it that it seemed that I had been hiding myself in the shadows all my life, doing exactly what people stronger than I ordered me to do, instead of taking my own choices? And how was it that, now I finally could make my own choices, I was afraid of doing so and wished I could go back to the days I was not yet the person I am now?

"Robyn, are you alright?" Harry asked, concern written all over his face. "Is it the alcohol?"

No, it isnt! I wanted to scream. Its not the alcohol, Harry, it's me! It's what I am, it's what I have become and what I was all along. Oh, if only you knew...If only I found a way to tell you all my dirty secrets and if only I knew afterwards you would still want to be friends with me. But that would be impossible. After all, who would want to be friends with a murderer?

"I'm alright," I managed to say, as I turned away from Harry, Ron and the twins. "It's just...I'm feeling a little dizzy."

Great. Another lie. Is my whole life based upon lies?

"Maybe you should go lie down," Ron suggested. "You do look a little pale."

I shook my head. "No, I'll be fine."

Again, my thoughts invaded to the past, and once more I heard Azariels voice in my head. "You are a vampire now. No longer do you belong to those humans, those filthy creatures; they don't know anything. You will know it all now; soon. You have been chosen, Robianna, you should be glad with the gift you received. Do not fight your instincts, do what your body tells you to do. You are a hunter now, and the world is yours in the night, waiting to be discovered by you. Do no longer hesitate just because your mind says you should; accept your new family, your heritage, accept who you are. What is the use in spending your time thinking about what could have been if you know that will never be?"

And again, those words, who had then given me the strength to live life the way a vampire should those words who had fooled me into believing I had no other choice now seemed to give me strength and comfort me and for a minute I even wished I was back there, in the castle I spent a lot of my years as a vampire, or in the mansion I spent my time as one of the Ancient.

Azariel never had been a friend of me, not even when I became one of the Ancient. He had been my master and even though I fought against him, rebelled against his tyranny, even now I could still hear his voice in my head and wanted desperately to do as he said, as if I had been nothing but a slave all along.

I resisted the urge to just run away and go kill some unimportant person no one cared about, a Muggle somewhere far away from Hogwarts, or maybe an animal. I was no longer obedient to my lust for blood, and I had to keep up the fight against the weaknesses of my vampirism. I had broken the chains that bound me to Azariel years ago, and it was only the alcohol that made me feel weak again, as if there had not passed five hundred years and as if I was still the weak girl chained against the dungeon walls in the castle I spent most of my life in.

"Robyn, you don't look fine at all," Fred concluded, as he walked over to me, obviously sobered up. "Let me help you."

I shook my head; got up and stumbled to the wall across the room, anxiously trying to block out the thoughts that invaded my mind. It was as though my brain got ripped apart by the memories that turned up again, after so many years and there, right there on the spot, I swore I would never touch a bottle of alcohol again in my life.

"You're weak," a voice came out of nowhere, a voice I remembered yet could not stick a face to. I had heard the voice so many times before, in the nightmares I could not remember once I had woken up, in the short but vivid memory I had had in the Chamber of Secrets, when I found and touched Moloki. "You're weak. You will never be able to become a powerful witch, or anything of that matter. You probably won't even be able to become a decent witch."

Those words hurt me, even now, even though I could not remember who had spoken them and even though they had no real significant meaning now.

I nearly collapsed against the wall as the memories became rushing in, and none of them seemed to make sense, voices appeared in my head, words were said, but I could not really link them all together.

"You do not have what it takes to become as powerful as I am, Robianna. You might as well give up just now," the unfamiliar yet known voice spoke in my head.

"Do not give up, Robyn. I know you can do it," I heard the voice of Moloki, but in a way the voice sounded younger, as if she had spoken it years ago.

"How can I not?" I heard myself reply in Parseltongue and although there was no image with the voice, I knew I had been answering to what Moloki had just said. "He's right. I will never be as good as he is."

"But he is older than you," Moloki continued. "It's normal that he is more powerful. Robyn, you're fifteen years old, he cannot expect you to know everything, even though you're his daughter."

"Don't speak like that, Moloki," I heard myself reply. "If he ever finds out you spoke about him that way, he will kill you."

With that, the conversation stopped, but that didnt stop my mind from racing further, further and further back in time, remembering things I had been hiding away in the darkest corner of my soul for so long, ripping open ancient scars I did not even know they existed anymore and revealing a tiny little part of the veil that I myself had created around my past.

"What do you think you are now, Robyn?" I heard the voice of Azariel haunting through my mind. "You're a murderer now. No better than I am, but not worse either. You have been a murderer all along and that is why you have been chosen to become a vampire. Can't you see? It was not that you were turned that made you evil; you were evil all along. Oh, my little slave, when will you realise, evil is not so different from the good you are willing to clinch onto? When will you realise only evil can make you powerful and free you from the chains of slavery?"

And the horrifying thought appeared in my mind: Perhaps if I had stayed loyal to what I believed in, loyal to the values my mother had given onto me, loyal to my long passed, murdered mother who was screaming in the heavens because of her daughter's lost innocence; perhaps than none of this would have happened. Perhaps then, I wouldn't have never been where I was now; a cold-hearted murderer trying to walk on the good side again, telling nothing but lies and living a life based on deception and manipulation.

But the alternative was even worse; if I had not given up my stubbornness, would I still be chained to those dungeon walls now, or would I have already died and burned in the fires of the eternal hell that awaited me?
"Robyn, are you alright? Let me help you," Harry said, interrupting the invasion of memories that collided in my head.

"No, stay away," I ordered him and moved my hand, jinxing him against the wall on the other side of the room. I was unable to control my actions, more even; unable to control my powers. I was no longer one of the Ancient, I was no longer one of the strongest vampires alive; now, due to the lack of blood I had been drinking and the large amount of alcohol I had consumed, I was nothing more than the half-human slave entangled against the walls of a dungeon, unable to control all the feelings racing inside of me, unable to fight against the urge, the need, the lust for blood.

"Robyn, what the hell is..." Fred suddenly said, but I screamed out: "No! Shut up! There's too...too many voices. Where am I? What is this?" Through-out the madness, I managed to look to my two best friends, Fred and George, who seemed to be taken aback by my sudden attack. "I'm sorry," I managed to say, then the voices invaded my mind again and I put my hands on my ears, trying to block out voices that were only in my mind.

In that single moment between reality and madness, I realised my mistake.

It had not been the alcohol; it had been the lack of blood. Even a vampire of my age and skills, could not live that long without fresh blood. And I had been neglecting it. What a fool I was, for thinking that living here at Hogwarts could make me invincible for all the disadvantages that came with my heritage.

"Robyn, tell me whats wrong!" Harry yelled at me. He had gotten up again and looked at me bewildered, his eyes curious and scared, not knowing what was wrong with me.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled back at him. "You're just like your father...Always interfering with other peoples business! Mind your own business for once, Potter!" I said angrily, then, once I had realised what I had said, I wanted to apologise, but it was too late.

"Harry, Im sorry, I,.." I managed to say, but as I wanted to put a step forward, I noticed the hard look in Harrys eyes, and the room began spinning. Terrified by not only my past, but suddenly also of my future, as I saw part of it being ripped away in front of my eyes.

I collapsed and the world slowly turned black, a deep black, black like my soul.

Go to the results. And yes, I'm finally back. WoohoO?
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