Harry's Day, Part 1 (Narrative)
Harry woke up to a crash. "Mouse?" he called, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. It was still dark, so he lit the candles in his room with his usual spell. Beside the bed was the small origami crane he'd folded the night before, but it was the only familiar thing in the room. Harry stared in surprise at the large queen-sized bed he was laying in before shifting his gaze to the wardrobe in the corner. Almost everything he could see was dark-colored, and well made. The staff leaning against the wall wasn't from the gnarled lightning-struck oak of Ebenezer's farm. This one was made of a darker wood - possibly ebony - and it was straight, with an intricate weave of runes carved into the sides.
"...the hell?"
"Harry!"
The shout had him jumping out of bed, reaching for the pentacle amulet around his neck. When his hand found the amulet, however, it was on a leather cord instead of a silver necklace. The pendant itself was thick as a couple of coins, and solid silver. The ruby from his mother was missing.
Another thump, and this time a male voice called his name. Harry looked up at that sound, then glanced back at the origami crane. Man I wish Thomas was here, he remembered saying. I just wish I had my family.
Thomas. That had been Thomas' voice.
Harry burst out the bedroom door, and nearly fell over the banister a few steps outside. He managed to regain his balance before falling over it to the floor below. This was plenty different from his basement apartment. He heard a shout in a language he didn't understand, and felt the blast of magic. He spun, found the stairs, and ran down them, towards the source of the fight sounds. Two figures in grey cloaks were struggling against one wall, while Thomas was on his back, his too-pale blood pouring from a wound in his chest. There was a slim figure on him, bracelets and rings on the wrists, holding a thick-bladed knife in one hand. Harry immediately tacked that figure to aid his brother, but the sound the figure made when he slammed into it made him start enough to pull his head back.
It saved his life, as the blade slashed towards his own throat. But Harry saw the hay-colored hair under the figure's dark cloak, saw the shape of her face, the shade of her eyes. It caught his breath. "Elaine?"
His once-lover bared her teeth in anger, trying again to stab him. Harry pushed her back, just as Thomas snapped the woman's neck with a vicious twist. Without pausing, the White Court vampire moved to the struggling grey-cloaks. Harry ignored that for a moment, crawling closer to Elaine's body. She had scars Harry had never seen before, burns in her hands and wrists. She wore no amulet now, but the bracelets... he remembered those, her elegant replacement to his staff and blasting rod. But the cruelty that had been in those eyes. That, he didn't remember. Save for that one day, long ago...
"Down, Tommy!" That shout made Harry turn to look at his brother. Thomas had engaged one of the grey cloaks. At the call, he ducked, and the other called out a word and threw a spell - a bolt of fire that knocked the other back with a sharp cry of pain. Thomas was back on his feet, and regarded the burning figure. He looked at the last grey-clad wizard. "Can I finish him off?"
The figure nodded. "Take him. Get your strength back."
Thomas turned back to the dying wizard and dragged it away, through a door. Harry was grateful, knowing that Thomas would need to feed to get his strength back. Simultaneously, he was disgusted, not wanting the sharp reminder that Thomas had given up his struggle.
The remaining figure moved towards him, pushing back her hood. Harry looked up from Elaine's body cradled in his lap, and was mildly surprised that something else could shock him at this point.