Immortals

Understanding

Certainly, I cannot understand human nature anymore. It's been more than 600 hundred years since I last felt human, and I can say I have transcended from the complicated thoughts of humanity, becoming someone with simple thoughts and simple needs. But humans cannot go on with life without making their lives complicated, and with no way to reach a solution.

More like, are they even trying?

But, it's thanks to those elaborated thoughts that I can make a living.

It's been a week since that man has been living in my house. It was me who said he could stay, but it was said out of courtesy, I think. Nobody would be so undaunted to begin living with a vampire; unless they were Magical, which the man is. Besides, it isn’t as if the man could die. So, there was only one good reason why he wants to stay with a vampire and the danger of dying at any time—not that I will kill him, of course.

He’s running away.

It isn’t simple running away from someone or something. He is trying to run away from life.

There are a lot of things about him that constantly clash between his actions and his mindset. And it is not that I'm interested in his life, but I tend to have things under control in my house; and if he is going to stay here then I must know. Though, must I really know? Well, for now, I'm trying to ignore the matter by leaving him alone. It's not that hard since our schedules are different, and because I tend to spend my whole time in the studio.

I sometimes see him walking in the courtyard at night, wearing shoes. I'm sure he doesn't want me to attack him again, and I hope he doesn't get cut again because his blood is like an addicting nectar. Even if his feelings are just too much for me. Last time I drank his blood, I couldn't write anything that wouldn't be depressing for three days. Songs are not only about how sad and miserable you are; and even if songs like those are appealing to people, it's just too tiring to always feel that way.

He must be really tired.

"He said he's going to begin working." Again, Ned is talking about unnecessary stuff. But, what's he saying? Recently I must have just listened to 5% of what he said.

"Who?"

"Were you not listening to me? Harry! I'm talking about Harry." Can't he just do his job and leave? Why come up with trivial conversations about things unrelated to work?

"Ah."

"Are you sure you're not interested in him? I mean, you brought him to your house, you took care of his wounds, you let him stay... Have you done something to him while I was not here? Of course, something apart from.. you know." He taps his neck. Well, no matter how sincere I am, I cannot say I already fed from Harry.

Twice.

"He can do whatever he wants. I just found him, somewhere." I'm not in the mood to tell him the details of our first meeting, and how I tried to take advantage of his dying moment. Vampires do have rules for feeding with human blood. The ‘donor’ has to be fully aware and willing, for one. No turning was allowed—though that rule has addendums. And many other other rules. Most importantly, I seem to have somewhat broken the first rule.

Twice.

"Anyways, he says he's going to begin working as a journalist. He said he has a friend that runs a newspaper and who has been bugging him for an article for quite some time now. But man, this Harry guy is more mysterious than you are. When I suggested him to let his family know where he was, he just laughed. What do you think that means? Is he a runaway? Though I think he's a bit too old for that, he's, what, 24 or something…?"

I roll my eyes and stop listening to whatever he's saying about a person I am ignoring for the time being.

Seriously, the idea of living far away from the city is to live a relaxing life. Apart from avoiding hurting someone whenever the smell of blood is in the air, I have always liked living in a secluded place. Fortunately, with the money I have accumulated throughout the years, I was able to buy a big terrain around a lake and built my house here.

But now, I have a human living here when all I've been doing is evading them.

"... so, I leave the new song in your hands. Do your stuff." Ned pats my shoulder which takes me out of my thoughts and out of reflex I nod at him. What was he saying? But, before I can ask him to repeat his last words, he leaves.

I sigh and turn to look at the computer screen, I realize there is a video about some new singer. This must be what Ned had been talking about. Probably. I play the video again and become mesmerized by the voice of this little man performing. What's was his name again? Anyway, he's not bad. I have the perfect song for him. As I finish this sooner than expected, I take a break and walk out of the house to clear my mind a bit.

…

I roll on the bed over and over, unable to sleep. Even when I asked Ned to help me get back some things from my apartment to feel a bit at home, I still feel like this is not where I belong to. It is just a temporary dwelling, and I shouldn't get used to being here, but the idea of living in a far away place like this is appealing.

Maybe I should do the same.

Either way, I need not work thanks to the money from the Potter vaults. If I live as simply I have been living, then it can last me a few centuries. The articles I write for Luna are just pocket money.

The truth of the Deathly Hallows

Raiding an Acromantula Nest.

Do’s and Dont’s when facing a Whomping Willow

Thestrals are Misunderstood Creatures

I am living with a Vampire

I think I am the second coming of Gilderoy Lockheart from my titles. And well, that was the only good thing I learned from the phony: how to create sensational titles. Writing the articles made me realize my near-death experiences were actually entertaining for people. Morbid minds they have, to laugh at the expense of others’ suffering. In that case, my whole life could kill people from laughter.

After writing that last article, I naturally received letters from my friends, asking if it was true. I didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth, so I lied saying I just met a vampire in passing.

The vampire was just passing by when he found me dying. In passing, he brought me to his house. In passing, I let him feed on me with the hope of being sucked dry. Yeah, all was in passing.

Though, talking about the passing Leander, I haven't seen him in days. I asked Ned, and he told me Leander was most likely upstairs in his studio. And since I was not allowed to go upstairs, then there was no possibility of meeting him. I roll on the bed once again and notice a man standing outside. It's him. Hesitating for a second, I Disapparate.

"Hey." I greet him the moment those silver eyes fix on me. His gaze is really intense and make my own eyes wander. "I, um... I want to thank you for letting me stay in your house. You may think I’m taking advantage of you, but I'm not. I will just stay for a few days, and then I will disappear from your life." After I express my gratitude, silence falls. When I look up at him, I notice his eyes reflect some kind of curiosity.

"Why are you running away?" He suddenly asks. I feel my heart stutter. ‘Why are you doing this?’ ‘Why don’t you look for help?’ ‘Why are you like this?’ My friends had always asked that. The questions always came with that sense of superiority, that patronizing tone, as if I am an ignorant child who knew nothing about life. They knew nothing about my life. And nobody truthfully stopped to ask to know the why.

"Have you ever felt you were not meant to be born? Like, if you knew what life was going to throw at you, you could simply decide not to be born?" I brush my hair, trying to wear off the anxiety.

"Is that why you want to die? Because you didn’t want to be born?" He inquires. It sounded so simple, to be put like that, yet it wasn’t.

"I want to die, but Death doesn’t let me." I mirthlessly laugh. He looks at me with an even more curious gaze. "Have you heard of the Deathly Hallows?” He nods. “Possess them and Death will give you a boon. That’s the implicit propaganda. Of course, it’s true and false. You do get a boon when you collect them three Hallows. The downside is that you cannot choose it. Eternal life! That’s what awaits you. That’s what I got. After everything I went through, I just wanted to rest. Eternally.”

Cold air blew, moving my hair and his coat. I cross my arms over my chest to cover myself from the cold. Something like that shouldn't be talked freely as if you were talking about the weather, but it was also liberating in a way. To tell someone who actually listened. Leander didn’t judge, didn’t preach, didn’t try to meddle. He seemed to just accept.

He accepts the invisible shadow a person carries.

"Want me to show you something?" He suddenly asks. I look at him, and after pondering for a few seconds, I nod. He walks back to the house without uttering a word and I follow him. I get a bit nervous when he starts going up the stairs, but I gather my courage and climb them too.

I always wondered why the house was completely lifeless, dull and with sober colors. It seems the reason is because Leander practically lives in the second floor, that it's just one big room. A studio, to be more concrete. One with lots of drawings hanging on the walls, a shelf with books and figurines. Even another shelf that has many CDs. There are a lot of computers, screens, a keyboard, a mixer, a microphone and many other things I don't know what they are used for. It is like heaven for musicians.

So it wasn't a lie when Ned said that he was a composer and songwriter. A musician vampire. Well, there goes the mystery of what vampires do apart from hide in their coffins and prey on weak damsels for blood. Breaking news! Vampires make a living! After looking at the room, my eyes fall on his back. He's sitting in front of one of the computers, searching.

"Here, put these on." He hands me a pair of headphones and I do as he says. Soon, a melody with a piano begins to sound. I press the headphones to my ears to listen to it better and close my eyes.

The song fills my ears and my being. Something inside me tingles. It's a weird sensation. I feel a void in my chest as if there's nothing there, no beating heart, no feelings, no nothing. Or more like, there is no happiness there, only despair. It feels suffocating, but at the same time familiar. As soon as the song ends, the pressure in my chest vanishes and I feel like breathing again. I don't know when I stopped breathing, but my body is grateful for the intake of the vital air.

"How is it?" He asks.

"Desolating, as if you're alone in the world." I answer without a doubt.

"That's you." I look at him with puzzled eyes. "That's how you feel." He clarifies. "When I drank your blood, those were the feelings that came from you and out of those, I made that song. You can say it's my vampire gift."

I keep silent for some seconds. Is he telling me that I am a desolated person? With no hope and just surrounded by sorrow and despair? Well, I cannot deny it since the song truly portrays what I feel. Though, I didn’t know it hits harder when someone else tells you how you're feeling than realizing it yourself. It’s frightening. Because that leaves you to the mercy of the other person. Vulnerable.

"I guess you are right. I am hopeless person." I try to make it sound like a joke and smile, but a crooked expression is all I can come up with. Ah, I feel even lonelier now.

I say nothing else and Disapparate.