Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Shades of Gray

Chapter 19: The Drakyn

by Shadow_Rebirth 12 reviews

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2009-01-27 - Updated: 2009-01-28 - 4340 words

Title: Shades of Gray
Author: Shadow Rebirth
Beta Reader: StormyBabe1988
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: Death, blood and gore, language, spoilers
Chapter WC: 3,878
Story WC: 98,098
First Written: December 4, 2008
Last Edited: January 24, 2009
Posted: January 27, 2009
Summary: Harry has a dark secret: He isn't a wizard. But that certainly doesn't mean he can't do magic. Unfortunately, it also means that in the face of fanatical governments and enraged demigods, Voldemort is going to be the least of his problems. AU, Gray!Harry, foreign school, vampires, werewolves, politics, no pairings.

This chapter has not yet been beta'd.


Shades of Gray

Chapter 19
The Drakyn


Harry's incredulous gaze took in the unusual dark purple skin and pure black eyes that belonged to the only drakyn he knew, the teen he'd met at Damion's Memorial Ball on Cohibeo Mors Mortis Day: Ty Kadundor. The other teen met his expression with a wide, amused grin.

"Hello again, Blake. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you."

"Ty?" Harry questioned, his voice clearly relaying his disbelief. "What are you doing here? Er, I mean, I thought drakyns never left their city, Malu— uh...?"

"Malauak," Ty offered. "And yes, that's true. I'm attending Silvermoor this year as a third year exchange student however. My father set it up so that I can get a better...feel...for the political climate of the Magical World."

Harry's eyes widened as he read between the lines of what Ty was saying. The drakyns clearly knew that the Magical World was on the edge of a massive conflict and they wanted an insider's view of what was going on. It also spoke very highly of Ty's magical ability that his father was sending him into a potential war zone when many other parents were pulling their children out.

The mage hesitated, unsure of what to say. Finally he settled on a simple nod.

"It is...good to see you again. I hope we'll be able to speak more later."

Ty's grin widened further, revealing teeth that were black and stone-like, like razor-sharp chips of obsidian. "Indeed," the drakyn mused. "I hope that I have some classes with you. If you'll excuse me, I need to go find an empty room with the rest of the third years. Good day, Blake."

Blake stared as the purple-skinned teen strode off through an arch on the bottom floor and disappeared. Then he shook his head and proceeded out of the building.


Ty found Harry again that night at dinner. Harry's other friends were surprised—and more than a little awed—to find a drakyn at the school. Throughout the meal Harry noticed numerous other students craning their necks to get a good view as well. Once the shock of meeting a purple-skinned and black eyed, toothed, and clawed person was over, it actually got quite amusing. Harry noticed a few of the professors grinning with merriment as well.

"Have you been out of Malauak often?" Ryan asked curiously.

Ty nodded. "My father has frequently taken me with him when he visits various countries. My mother comes along sometimes, mainly to various social functions, but she prefers to stay in Malauak like most drakyns. Personally," he added with a smirk, "I think that most of them just don't know how to adapt to the world, so they just continue living the way they always have, tucked away in their own little world."

"So you're used to being out in the world?" Zahra questioned. "Do you enjoy traveling?"

"Certainly," Ty said with decisive nod. "Though whether that's because of my experiences or just my personality, I couldn't tell you. Though I—"

The drakyn's words cut off abruptly. Harry followed his gaze across the table and saw that a group of three fayeries—fourth years, Harry thought—were walking over to their table. Their eyes were only on Ty. Harry glanced at the drakyn, expecting to find annoyance, but saw only calm, blank acceptance there.

The tallest of the fayeries, a male with short hair and a pointed nose, bowed to Ty as they stopped in front of the table. "It is an honor to have you at our school, Lord Drakyn," he said.

Ty smiled politely, but just widely enough to reveal his teeth. "And an honor to be here, Sir Fayerie. I am Ty Kadundor, son of Ambassador Apalala Kadundor."

"Ah," the fayerie commented, his eyes widening slightly at the revelation. "I assume you are here just for the year, then?"

"Perhaps," Ty mused. "I suppose it depends on the people." His smile widened, as though he was laughing at some private joke and he turned to Harry with amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "What do you think, Blake? Are there some interesting people here? Personally, I get bored easily, so it's always good to have interesting people around.

Both Harry and the fayerie were caught off guard by Ty's strange attitude. The fayerie's mouth dropped open in shock and Harry was left struggling to find a way to answer Ty's question without making it sound like he was completely and utterly confused—which he was.

"Uh, yeah, there are," the dark haired mage managed to say. "Hyperactive vampires, moody dark elves, and all."

"I just know there's a story behind that," Ty said with a laugh. His smile was infectious and soon Harry, as well as those of his friends who knew Aetius and Ciar, were grinning too.

The fayerie, however, was not amused. He looked to be caught between annoyance and confusion, but instead of questioning Ty, he began to stare at Harry. Not one to ever back down, Harry shifted his gaze onto the older student and met him stare for stare.

"Mind clueing us in on what's going on?" came Ryan's amused voice in his mind.

Harry resisted the temptation to look over at his werewolf friend. "I would if I had any idea myself," he answered with equal humor.

"It almost seems like a power struggle between Ty and that fayerie to me," Ryan continued after a moment. "But not quite...Hmm, I wonder..."

To Harry's rather great satisfaction, the fayerie was the first one to break eye contact. The pale haired young man shifted his gaze back to Ty while frowning thoughtfully.

"I'd...Like to speak to you later, privately," he said to the purple-skinned teen.

Once again Ty smiled politely at the fayerie. "Of course," he murmured. "Later."


The sharp sound of boots clicking on stone filled the room as Ambrosios Noctis, Lord of the Noctis clan, paced back and forth. His sensitive nose twitched a few times, agitated by the rather stale air, but he paid it no mind.

The room around him was large and made completely from stone. Around the room were seven, life-sized, stone statues depicting warriors dressed in ancient clothing. Ambrosios paused before one of the statues and stared at the jewel around its neck. He reached out to touch it, but pulled back when energy crackled out of the jewel, protecting it.

"Lord Noctis," came a gravely voice

Ambrosios glanced over his shoulder and squarely met the eyes of the older mage behind him. "Master Kyrylo," he greeted. He turned fully to face him. "How did it go?"

A scowl flashed across Kyrylo's face. "As well as can be expected when dealing with wizards," he answered, sneering. "They fell for it hook, line, and sinker. They still know nothing about the Magical World, but rather believe us to be a powerful, muggle-hating, wizard faction. 'Lord' Voldemort is now in our hands to do with as we wish and he has no idea what our true plans are."

Ambrosios turned back to the statue before him, staring at the jewel once more. "Good," he murmured. "As always, their ignorance will be their undoing. And we shall finally have what was once ours again."

"Lord Noctis..." Kyrylo hesitated, "What...what about those in the Magical World who disagree with our stance? We already know that they are aware of our actions. What will we do if they attempt to stop us?"

"They know nothing of our plans," Ambrosios replied with a dismissive gesture. "All they know is that we are starting to take action, but not what those actions are. So long as there are no traitors to the Magical World, we shall be fine."

Kyrylo nodded jerkily. He started to turn away, but threw one last glance at the elder vampire lord, whose gaze was glued to the shining jewel. With a shake of his head, Kyrylo disappeared into the shadows.


On the day that classes started, Harry immediately noticed a tension in the air that hadn't been there the year before. Everyone was on edge, just waiting for something—anything—to happen. To Harry, it felt as though the school had become a tank of gasoline that would be blown up by even the slightest spark.

It was a bad beginning to an even worse year.

As Harry slumped into his usual seat in Magical Theory that morning, he wondered why he always seemed to get caught up in so much drama. He never looked for trouble—hell, he often went out of his way to avoid it—but it always managed to find him regardless.

"Morning, morning!" Professor Brenton said as she stood in front of the class. "Welcome to yet another year!" She was surprisingly chipper and since Harry highly doubted that she was unaware of the tense, almost hostile atmosphere of the school, she was probably going out of her way to act as though nothing was wrong.

The blonde haired mage began a long speech about the beginning of the year before finally moving onto what they'd be covering subject wise.

"We'll be delving more into history and culture than theory this year," she told them. "As a matter of fact, we're going to start off with the creation of Atlantis and in a few weeks will take a trip to the city itself. After that—"

Professor Brenton continued on for some time, but Harry had stopped listening. "Atlantis?" he hissed to Ryan, who was sitting next to him. It was more of a demand for an explanation than a question.

"It's the oldest and largest city in the magical world," the werewolf whispered back while rolling his eyes. "I'm surprised no one's ever mentioned it you before."

"I might have heard of it mentioned in passing," Harry agreed, "But...I mean, it's actually a city, not just ruins?"

Ryan gave him a strange look. "Of course it's a city. I know several people who live there, though I've never been there myself. It's supposed to be a fucking awesome place, since it's underwater and all. It's gotta have some pretty cool wards on it too..."

Harry leaned back in his seat and focused his gaze on the ceiling. So Atlantis was not only a real place, but still a functioning city? The very thought of an underwater city was intriguing.

The young mage drifted through the rest of the class without paying much more than cursory attention. His awareness finally came back into focus as he left his friends to head to his next class. He had his fist Death Magic class next, so he definitely needed to be paying attention.

When Harry stepped into the classroom, he was surprised to find Ty already there. The dark skinned gave him a surprised and curious look before beckoning him over.

"I though you were a second year?" Ty inquired.

Harry shrugged. "I am," he replied, "But I was moved up into this class due to Soul Magic."

As Ty opened his mouth to reply, the door in the back of the classroom opened abruptly.

"Good morning," Ciar said as he smoothly walked inside. He dumped a notebook onto his desk, but didn't sit down. Instead he turned to survey the upperclassmen—and single second year—before him. "I am Erebus Ciar, your Death Magic professor. Before we begin, I would like to make one thing infinitely clear: If you fear death, leave now. About thirty percent of the total fatalities at this school each year are due to this class.

"If you plan on goofing around, please leave now as well. We will be quite literally working with death and a single misstep could be fatal. There's a reason why this class is only offered once you've taken two years of Soul Magic. Of course, this also means that if I feel that you are endangering the lives of other students, I reserve the right to kick you out myself."

Ciar lapsed into silence for several minutes. The class shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze, but no one left.

"Good," Ciar said shortly. "For the first three months of this class we will be solely studying theory and I don't want to hear a single complaint about it."

The dark elf turned to the board and began to lecture without another word on his dark warning. Harry exchanged a glance with Ty before turning all of his attention onto Ciar. He had a feeling that this class was going to be different from the ones he'd had last year.


Harry was making his way back towards his room that night when out of nowhere a hand shot out, grabbed his shoulder, and knocked him into the wall. Harry stumbled, shocked by the sudden attack. He didn't even get the chance to turn around however, before the fourth year fayerie that'd been speaking to Ty the night before brushed by him.

"Watch where you're going, kid," he sneered.

Harry stood staring after the fayerie long after the other student had disappeared. Honestly, he was more than a bit confused. He was sure that he'd never done anything to the older boy to piss him off.

Despite his history with his cousin, in Hogwarts Harry had never really been subject to bullying. It hadn't been because of his celebrity status—though undoubtedly that had played a part in it—but rather because he just wasn't the sort of person open to bullying. He kept to himself, for the most part, and didn't have many interactions with anyone outside his circle of friends. Even on the occasions when the school had turned against him, it had been the entire school and no one had ever confronted him directly.

The rivalry Harry had had with Draco Malfoy couldn't be called bulling either, as it'd been more of a mutual dislike. Plus Malfoy had run from almost any sign of a physical confrontation. That had been a small source of annoyance for Harry when he'd been younger and for more quickly to anger; he would have liked to be able to take his frustrations out in a fight with someone other than Voldemort.

When Harry had come to Silvermoor this same situation had transferred over. While he had just a small circle of friends, his friends had large networks of other friends, most of whom he'd never even met. Ryan in particular seemed to already be scouting out a group of submissive werewolves.

Because of all this, Harry wasn't entirely sure how to react to suddenly being bullied, even when the bullying was so mild. And that was if it was bullying at all. It was rather egocentric of him to think that the fayerie was acting the way he was just because of Harry—especially when Harry had only met him once before. Maybe the fayerie was just having a bad day. It wouldn't be surprising, considering the tense atmosphere of the Academy that day.

Despite his inner debate, Harry's feet felt abnormally heavy as he walked back to his room.

"We've got the proof we were looking for, Albus."

Dumbledore glanced up from his paperwork, a surprised look on his face. He didn't look delighted, though Moody hadn't been excepting that, but instead just grim.


Moody released an inaudibly sigh. "The new Minister of Magic is definitely under Voldemort's power. The Death Eaters have effectively taken over the Ministry."

"If we have proof then we have to present it to the public," McGonagall all but demanded. She was standing behind Moody, worriedly wringing her hands. "This could be a perfect opportunity to strike a blow at You-Know-Who."

Dumbledore sighed heavily and sat back in his seat. "I'm afraid not, Minerva," he said tiredly. "Something like that is exactly what Voldemort would be waiting for. He could use it to denounce me and pull me from my position of power like Fudge did. My position in the Ministry is shaky as it is and I can't risk loosing it if Voldemort is in power."

"We can't just sit back and do nothing!" Minerva hissed.

"And we won't," Dumbledore promised. "We just have to be very careful in our approach. Voldemort will undoubtedly slowly introduce laws against muggleborns so that the public doesn't grow suspicious and we will fight him at every turn. I shall also get in touch with all of my government contacts around the world, tell them what we have learned, and see what support we can gather abroad."

"So this is turning into a political war?" Moody snorted. "You won't have much need me then."

"On the contrary, Alastor," Dumbledore replied. The twinkle had returned to his eye, though it was far dimmer than usual. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to come out of retirement and take your place as an Auror once again—or, rather, as an Auror trainer. If there's one thing we definitely can't allow, it's for Voldemort to sink his claws into the next generation of Aurors."

Moody released a defeated sigh. "I don't like it," he grunted, "But I have to agree. That bastard's corruption is going far enough as it is..." With a scoff, he turned around and began to walk out of the office. "Whatever. I'm going to back to Headquarters for the night."

McGonagall stared at the closed door for several moments after Moody left before turning back to Dumbledore. She had an indecisive expression on her face, as though she wanted to say something, so the wizened headmaster wanted patiently for her to gather her wits.

"Albus..." she said finally, "Have...Have you heard anything else about Harry?"

Dumbledore's shoulders drooped noticeably as he cast his memory back to what had happened earlier that summer. He still couldn't believe that Harry had subdued him so easily; it shouldn't have been possible. Standing there, frozen and waiting for someone to come along and find him had been the most helpless Dumbledore had felt in a number of decades. Harry still had the Elder Wand too, though he doubted that the boy knew what it was.

"No, Minerva," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid that he has disappeared without a trace once again. However, the...incident...does prove what we had previously thought: That Harry was not captured by Voldemort. Let's count that as a good sign, hmm? Now, we should get back work; the new semester begins in just a few weeks and there is still much to be done."

"...Yes, Albus."


"I have a special announcement!" Aetius declared rather gleefully at the beginning of Harry's transfiguration class. It was already the second week of the semester, but the blond haired vampire's energy had yet to diminish. "Today we're going to have a very special test. I originally planned to do this a week ago, but it took a little while to set up..."

Harry resisted the urge to gulp nervously. Whenever Aetius had a grin like that bad things happened. Very, very bad things.

Following the first few days Harry had found it surprisingly easy to slip back into the school day monotony—not that anything at Silvermoor could ever truly be called monotonous. He didn't run into the Fourth Year fayerie again, though he didn't know if Ty and the fayerie talked again either. Thus of course, it was only now that something unexpected—and quite worrying, if Harry was to be honest—happened.

Aetius swiftly made his way to the door, literally skipping. "This way, children! Follow me!"

The class hesitantly got up and followed Aetius out into the hall. The professor took them to a small door in the back of the building that led into a tiny room. In fact, the only thing that the room contained was a single trap door. Without pause, Aetius pulled the trap door open with a flick of his finger and began to climb down the ladder inside.

Darkness met the class at the bottom of the ladder. Harry could feel a chilly wind blowing through...wherever they where. Suddenly he had a feeling that they weren't in a small space any more.

"Everyone here?" came Aetius' amused voice as they all began to whisper amongst themselves. "Good. Then let the games begin, ne?"

Abruptly dozens of lights flared into existence. Harry winced, surprised, but that surprise quickly changed into shock as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

They were standing in a massive cavern. The walls stretched upwards into darkness for what seemed like forever even though the ladder hadn't been very long—magic, Harry reminded himself. On top of that, before them was a maze with stone walls more that ten feet tall. There were numerous entrances laid out before them; one for each student, perhaps.

"This," Aetius said with a sweeping gesture, "Is one of Silvermoor Academy's specialized training rooms: The Forgotten Labyrinth. An interesting tidbit to know is that a trial in a wizarding game called the 'Triwizard Tournament' is based off an earlier version of the Labyrinth, but that's not important right now. All you need to know is that the Labyrinth is filled with various enchantments, creatures, and wards.

"Each of you will choose when entrance and follow it to its end. The main goal is just to make it through, but the first person to the end will receive 100 points extra credit. So, I'd suggest that you move quickly! I should also mention that the Labyrinth is spelled so that you'll never run into any of your classmates. Now, each of you choose an entrance and on my word we'll get started!"

Twitching slightly, Harry followed Senka and Damion as they walked over to the maze. Merlin, it was like the Triwizard Tournament all over again. Except, knowing Aetius, there would be something different about it; some sort of a trick involved. If the vampire included something about a golden cup, Harry would throttle him, professor or not.

"You okay Senka?" Damion murmured quietly. When Harry glanced at the two from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the Italian boy was shifting uncomfortably. "Should you be doing something like this, so soon after you were injured?"

Senka chuckled. "I'll be fine, Damion," she replied in an equally soft voice. "I'm already completely healed, trust me."

The long haired vampire nodded, though he didn't look convinced. He looked guilty—and rightfully so. Harry momentarily felt a surge of irrational anger, but he stuffed it down before it could show. Damion was just as much of a victim in this as Senka was, in a way: He'd basically been shoved into a war between his father and his friends.

Harry stared into the darkness of the Forgotten Labyrinth, unable to look at his friends any longer. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Damion must feel, especially since he'd never known his own parents.

"Ready everyone?" Aetius called, still grinning gleefully. In that moment Harry wanted to punch him, he really did. "Then go!"

In accompaniment to Aetius' words the bright lights that hung over the maze flared up once. Harry instantly dashed forward, intent on loosing his troubles in the Labyrinth. A good fight could solve almost anything.


A/N: I'm so sorry for how long this chapter took! I was insanely busy over the holidays and recently some other projects have gotten in the way as well. This chapter ended up being a bit of a transition chapter anyway. The next one will definitely have a whole lot more action and substance in it.

I have to say that it was pretty amusing to see that 90 percent of people thought that the "mystery person" was going to be Luna. (I will say however that she's definitely going to show up later and play an important role!) My favorite guess however, had to be Piers Polkiss! That definitely would have been amusing. But no, Ty is actually one of the least likely people to show up at Silvermoor because 99 percent of magical beings have never even seen a drakyn, despite their long lifespan.

On a similar note, in only a few chapters the Wizarding World is going to begin to play a prominent role in the story. That'll probably happen once everything with Atlantis is over. At this point what's happening in the Wizarding World is a very similar situation to what happened in the seventh book though, obviously, it's a bit different because Dumbledore is still alive.

And finally, Kyrylo—the mage who was with Ambrosios in this chapter—was briefly introduced in chapter 15, if you don't remember. He's not even close to being a major character, though he does play a part in the plot. Over all, you don't really need to remember him.

Thanks for all your reviews! More info on this story can be found at www(DOT)groups(DOT)yahoo(DOT)com/group/ShadowRebirthFanfiction. This includes a few comics that I did for the story when I was procrastinating...


All men dream but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes to make it possible. -T.E. Lawrence
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