Harry Potter Selfdeception

Disclaimer: I do not own this story. The world and most of the characters in this story are created by J.K. Rowling, the author of the series of books known as Harry Potter. I make no financial profits from this story, neither is any infringement intended. Most of the things not recognized as Rowling's ideas could very well have been taken from somewhere else, therefore I make no claim to own any idea, name or plotline in this story. To make everything 'crystal'-clear: This is a fanfiction, don't sue or my friends dream, of me bying an x-box 360 so he can come and play games at my house, will never come true. Don't be cruel to my friend, he's homophobic. :P (ps. I underlined the important stuff, incase you didn't notice.)

Right now this story is an idea of me as a humor-writer composing a rather serious/sinister story. My reasoning is that since a good past-tense writer tries to give the impression that their story has really happened, it shouldn't be to farfetched to assume he forgets a few things here and there, or adds some things, like a tension-lifting word or even their own opinions. So why not add myself trying to justify or explain myself or my words.

In plain english this means I'm rambling, if it bothers you, tell me and I'll accommodate everything to your reading pleasure, not. The stories I've posted won't be changed so unless you wanna be my beta you have no say in what I write. But really, tell me what you don't like and what you consider a factual error. And of course what you like (but maybe not what you consider correct since that would mean pointing out every little thing, like names and descriptions, but of course, if you feel like it you're welcome to do that too. Was that too many commas in one sentence?) or enjoyed/was impressed by concerning my story.

And one more thing, if something in this story seem confusing then it probably means I'm rambling, and if you don't feel like figuring it out it won't damage the story much if you just skip it and move on

* * *

_Self Deception_

_'A deception is never complete if you haven't fooled yourself'_

Sam walked carefully through the dark streets of Knockturn Alley. He was very cautious not to step outside of the shadows, not even if the light came from a street light. Though there weren't much of those. In fact, as the sun was setting, there was less sources of illumination than at the day. It seemed as if people didn't want to be found in the night, as opposed to the other alley, where there was almost lighter at night than in the day.

Now, as Sam stalked through the darkness, he tightened his gray robe around his body, letting the huge cloak cover his face. He knew where he was going, and he had no trouble finding in the dark.

A man passed him on the street, and he made sure to keep his short, thin frame on a generous distance. There was no telling what the people and creatures of knockturn alley could do, and this one smelled funny. Not funny as in 'haha', mind you, but funny as in strange and suspicious. When the taller man had passed him, and both had made sure not to show his face to the other, Sam made a turn into one of the darker alleys, and walked purposefully towards a sturdy, wooden door.

As he reached the door, which at a closer look seemed to tower above him in a way that suggested it was bigger than it had looked at first sight, he fished out a key from his pocket and then looked again at the door. There wasn't any lock under the door knob, but none the less he pressed the key on the hard wood where there should have been a lock. Nothing happened to the door. There was no rumbling sound, or one of those squeaking kind of sounds that you always expect when you push a key towards a non-existent hole. Neither did the key sink into the wood, and none of those flashing lights could be seen. In fact, one would think that Sam had done something wrong. And if you knew Knockturn Alley you would know that when you did something wrong there would always come a terrible beast from nowhere to rip you apart, or a nasty curse to rip you apart, or just about anything else that could rip you apart. All in all, if you did something wrong in Knockturn Alley you would most definitely be ripped apart.

But none of that happened. In fact, Sam just stood there with the key pressed towards the hard wood. And since nothing happened you could assume that Sam didn't do anything wrong. And if you knew that then you would know that he actually did something right. Because the rule of Knockturn Alley was: There is a right way to do things and there is a wrong way. But there is Never an in between!

People often said this to their grandchildren when they told them about their dangerous adventures in the dark alleys. And they would always add things to their story about big hairy dragons and beasts with scales who spit fire out of their nose. And really, who would belive that?

Now, where was I? Oh Yes!

Sam carefully removed the key from the non-existent lock. And then he turned around and started walking away. But as he reached the end of the darker alley, and was about to walk out into the lesser dark alley, he suddenly turned around and started casually stroll back towards the door. The dark grey robes billowed slightly behind him, and they billowed right past the sturdy wooden door. He stopped a few meters left of the door. There was nothing there really, he just stood with his face towards a wall of black stones, and it really looked as if he knew what he was doing, even though you couldn't see his face. As far as I'm concerned, he could've smiled with a silly grin or cry like a baby, I mean really, if you can't see his face you gotta use your imagination. Hrm. Sorry.

Now, Sam laid a hand on the black stone. His hands had been hidden in his robes previously and now when you could see them you would notice that they looked very smooth. A simple, golden ring was ornamenting his index finger, and the nails were cowered with black nail polish, making his slender fingers look quite beautiful. They were the kind of hands that would make you think that the rest of him was just as beautiful. And I can't really argue with such a statement since i don't really know what he looks like yet myself. Oh, I'm rambling again.

Sam stood there, with a hand on the wall and his face hidden behind a rather large cloak, and started speaking.

"Tom, open up, please." He had a smooth voice (kind of like his hands), which sung beautifully with an apparent Italian accent.

There was no response from this Tom-fellow. And nothing happened to the wall he had his hand on, and nothing happened to the door he had put his key on. It was apparent to anyone that this Tom either wasn't there or didn't want to answer. And obviously Sam thought the latter was correct.

"I had sexual intercourse with your mother, Tom. You want the pictures or should I sell them on Ebay?" his voice sung out coyly.

In the light that wasn't there, you could almost see a small smile on his dark, red lips.

Suddenly, the rumbling noise, that one you would have expected all along, could be heard throughout the small, dark alley. And the black stones on the wall, behind the one that Sam was facing, started moving aside to reveal a stairway down to a room that was even darker than the very dark alley that Sam was currently about to leave, in favor of the stairway that had now been revealed. Uhm, he walked down the damn stairway, if it wasn't clear enough for ya'.

The short man (Sam, that is) stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He could hear the rumbling sound again as the stones behind and above him took back their original place on the wall. As he looked around, Sam could see... well, nothing. it was just so damn dark. i mean how Could he see anything in that darkness? But he did sense a presence on the other side of the rather small room, and he could smell the nasty cologne of the man that he assumed was Tom. Though he couldn't really tell since he'd never met the man before.

"Who the hell are you and what the fuck is Eel-bay?" Came a hoarse voice, full of irritation.

'What language' Sam thought while licking his teeth without thinking. He winced when his tounge was pierced by one of the two sharp canine tooth that was present on any vampire. 'I always forget about those' Sam thought sullenly before he answered the disgusting man named Tom.

"My name is Sam, and Ebay is this wierd muggle-market." he answered, keeping a bored and yet melodious tone.

"You would actually stand on a market and sell a picture of you having sex with my dead mother?" Tom said, with what appeared to be an honestly confused voice.

Sam almost laughed, but stopped himself as he remembered what his informant had said about laughing in the presence of the irritated Tom Tuck.

'Don't laugh in the presence of the irritated Tom Tuck' he had said.

"No" Sam answered, making sure not to laugh. "Ebay is on something called the interneck, a weird place, that interneck."

Tome Tuck grumphed and humphed and made a few other wierd noices I've never heard of, before he snapped his fingers and let a small candle light up the room. The room in question looked bare. There was no real furniture in the room, except the round table on which the candle was. But besides the table in the middle of the room there was only just a few spiderwebs in the upper corners of the low roof.

"Since my mother's dead you can keep those pictures for yourself, and what is your last name?" Tom barked while shuffling around the room, apparently doing nothing.

Sam considered the question for a while, before he answered truthfully.

"I don't remember my last name. I stopped using it about a hundred years ago and lost track of it after about fifty years. I think it was Barker's or something but really, it could just as well have been Grime or Lemon Drop. Let's just say I don't have one."

During this rather boring rant, Tom walked towards the other end of the room and put a hand on the black stone. (In fact: all the stones in the rooms was black, from the floor to the roof to the walls.)

"So you're one of those creatures that doesn't age, huh? What exactly are you?"

As an answer to that, Sam let his sharp, canine teeth shine in the light of the candle. As Tom saw this, he grunted.

"A vamp huh? should've known with that sweet-talk of yours. Damn attitude never goes away from you Italians, does it? So what can ol' Tom do for ya'? And what can you give me in return?"

As if on cue, Sam grabbed his huge cloak and pushed it out of his face and down to his shoulders. The face that showed in the weak light of the candle could be called nothing but beautiful. With clear Italian features and a face that looked very young, you could think he was no more than fifteen. But since you now know that he is a vampire it would be stupid to think that he was only fifteen.

Tom looked at the apparently young man with a slight interest.

"So you're stuck in the body of a child and want to get in on the age-limited clubs?" The old, chubby man said with a chuckle, making his form bounce up and down in a way that reminded Sam of a walruss. Of course he didn't call Mr. Tuck a walruss.

"You are partially right, Tom. But I want something a little more advanced than that. You see, Tom, the schools today is not what they were in my time, and I just know there is so much more to learn. To put it simply: I want to make my body look as if it was eleven, and then grow through the years until I reach the 'age' of eighteen. So if you could 'help' my body become eleven again and then make it age like it would on any normal human, I would be very grateful." Sam finished with a smile.

Tom answered with a grunt and a cough. And some words.

"Grateful isn't enough, Sam. I want to know what you could give me, that you know I would benefit from. So spit it, what did you bring?" his hoarse voice blurted out.

Sam continued to smile, while his hand reached into his large, right pocket and fished out a book four times the size of his hand. He reached out and handed the brown book with a blank cover to his new found friend, all the time with a sweet smile on his lips. Tom took the book and started sniffing on it, reminding anyone who would've seen him of a dog. But since the only one watching him was Sam, and because Sam didn't think of a dog when he saw Tom sniffing the book, no one thought of a dog as Tom sniffed on the book.

When Tom was through with his dog-like behavior, his face lit up and a grin spread across his ugly, fat face. When he was about to open the book, an eager look on his face, Sam stopped him by holding up a hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's a rather nasty light in there and I don't really want to be exposed to it. You know it's real anyway." he explained while lowering his hand.

Tom grunted and tapped a stone on the wall beside him. A drawer came out of the stone to the left of his hand, and he put the book in there and quickly closed it again before Sam could see what other items the drawer contained.

"That is payment enough" Tom said with a nod and walked past Sam, towards the wall next to the stairs.

"How long until it can be done, and how will it be accomplished?" Sam asked, with clear anticipation showing on his young face. (The face wasn't young but he 'looked' young. well, you know.)

Tom made a sound that could be considered a laugh, but it sounded more like a bark, adding to the picture of a dog that Sam didn't have in his head. The plump man knocked on the black stone by the stairs with a fat, hairy hand, and waited until a large box melted out of the stones. He removed the lid from the box and started rummaging through it. After about a minute he made a squealing sound, almost like a rat, and turned around towards Sam, while kicking the box back into the wall.

"You don't have to wait another minute, my dear vampire." Tom said with a sickly sweet voice. "Just drink this potion and you will be eleven all over again." with those words he handed over the vial, that was in the shape of an egg.

As Sam accepted the potion and looked at it for a while, Tom added:

"Just remember that it is a very real potion. You will have all the troubles of a normal teenager growing up. And once you've reached the age of eighteen, you will stay in that form. If you prefer the form you have now, just come back anytime and it can be arranged. And the effect is irreversible during the time it is in effect."

After that little speach, Sam thanked the man, and without a second thought downed the brownish liquid in one go.

The taste was, of course, awful, and almost immediately the potion started effecting him. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the feeling of his most precious bodypart shrinking.

----

Sam stumbled through Knockturn Alley with determined steps. This was the tricky part of his plan. He had to stay conscious long enough to get himself somewhere safe before someone noticed his weak condition and took advantage of it to rob his ass, or worse. And you need to understand that Sam was not the kind of man to appreciate being taken advantage of, or worse. Neither did he intend to be taken advantage of, or worse. Hrm... sorry.

As he now stumbled through the dark alleys of The Alley, Sam made sure to avoid the skulking figure ahead by turning right at the next intersection. This also suited his agenda since that was the direction in which his hideout was situated. In other words he intended to take a right at that intersection before the skulking figure appeared before him. To be honest with you, I don't even know if he noticed the skulking figure to begin with, being in the state he was.

Staggering for a bit, Sam leaned over towards the gutter and threw up for a while. For a second, he cursed himself for putting himself in this disgraceful situation, but then he remembered his brilliant plan and instead cursed himself for forgetting it.

This night seemed to be this (apparently) young boy's lucky night. He had actually managed to drag himself all the way to his relatively safe hideout without being assaulted or even addressed.

He let himself fall face first onto the hard, wooden floor, not noticing the soft bed right beside him. Confused thoughts were the last thing he remembered before passing out from physical and mental exhaustion. Getting your body turned from fifteen to eleven in a matter of seconds is quite the ordeal, mind you. Especially for a vain, Italian vampire with a healthy sex-drive.

* * *

(Maybe not so healthy considering he's (un)dead. :P) 

R&R. And tell me if you notice any difference in writing style between before and after the --- . There's quite a time-gap there. And I have no Beta (insert dramatic music) so if you think you can handle my writing (and antics) let me know.


End file.
