Colors rippled through the air like suspended ink in the great darkness of the northern sky. Draco watched silently as the pale blues shifted to reds and the lights cascaded, one over another, as the pristine snow reflected the sky and it was as through the heavens and earth were one. At first he had not wanted to make a stop in Alaska, but upon Blaze's insistence it was added to their itinerary for their post-graduation holiday. In those few moments, as he stood suspended between the two rippling planes of color, he was grateful that he had allowed this particular stop on their journey.

He watched until the last tails of light flicked out of existence before trudging back down the hill to the tent that Blaze, Theo and him shared. The other two boys had passed on a late night walk, preferring to lounge in the hot tub and watch a quidditch match between the Stonewall Stormers and the Moose Jaw Meteorites on the WizTop™ that Theo's parents had given him as a graduation gift (along with the tent).

Before Draco reached the sanctuary of his traveling home, there came a sound like thunder over the snow covered hills. He turned his silver grey eyes to the cloudless sky and wondered at the strange noise. His long aristocratic fingers instinctively started to reach for his wand, but it was in the inner pocket of his heavy winter coat. He started to slip the buttons from their holes when, without warning, arms wrapped around him from behind and he was knocked to the ground. Face down in the snow, the clinging wetness smothered his cry of surprise and attempted to suffocate him. Then there were teeth in his neck, tearing at the porcelain skin. A frightful pain flooded through him, from his neck to the tips of his fingers and toes. His body felt as if it was burning up from the inside out and it was all he could do to stay awake against the waves of agony that were threatening to pull him under. His hands made a feeble attempt to pull his wand from it's pocket, but his fingers could not seem to make sense of the buttons any longer.

And then as swiftly and as suddenly as they had come, the person on his back was gone. Draco would have looked around to see who or what it was, or where they had gone, but the world was becoming as white as the snow in which he lay. Sounds were fading into a dizzying silence, but he could not honestly say there were ever there to begin with.

Blood was flooding from his neck, painting the snow almost black to his fading vision. A voice was speaking to him, words that he should have been able to understand but were dashed aside by the pain and coldness that was sinking into his bones.

Sleep came then. Draco would have assumed it to be death, only he woke afterwards, and one does not often wake after a quick death. A face loomed into his line of sight and for a moment he started to reconsider his prior estimation of life. "D-Diggory?"

"Malfoy."

"What are you doing in Alaska? You're supposed to be dead." His voice was strained, throat dry as if raw from screaming, though he could not recall raising his voice. The pain from earlier had faded leaving only a cold numbness behind.

"I… technically am."

"Merlin's beard." Draco tried to sit up and the world pitched for a few moments before becoming stable once more. He looked around an unknown room; rustic muggle décor looked back at him. "I am dead."

Cedric looked uncomfortable. "I do not know how to explain this, Malfoy. You were attacked by a vampire. I killed him." He ran his hands through his unruly hair. "But I could not save you."

"What do you mean, couldn't save me?" He felt confused, and that made him feel angry. Being attacked by vampires didn't happen often in normal society, and if it did then it never ended well, he didn't know what to think. He looked down at his pale hands and they were trembling ever so slightly. He tucked them together in his lap and frowned up at Cedric, waiting for an answer that he did not want to know.

The other man had a deep brooding look of shame on his face. No answers came.

"Am I a…?" He could not bring himself to say the word. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Cedric. "No, I refuse. This is utter rubbish. This is all some dream because I fell asleep while watching those damned lights. You're dead and I'm going back to my tent."

Cedric sighed. "You can't go back now. I know at first it seems like a bad dream, but after the first twenty years or so it really sinks in... and you learn to deal with it."

Draco raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, a thought slowly dawning on him. "Diggory, how old are you?"

"Seventeen." The answer was soft, hesitant as his eyes looked everywhere but at Draco.

"How long have you been seventeen?"

"… a while." Finally those topaz eyes settled on the silver ones.

The answer was staring him in the face, but he felt perhaps if he could weasel around it, perhaps then it would not be true. "But, I saw your body… it was a death curse. You can't turn into a vampire after that." He shook his head. Hair that was once slicked back flicked loosely over his high cheekbones. Not honestly knowing much about vampires, but the logic in that seemed sound enough, dead was dead, right?

"No, but death curses do not work on the dead." The former Hufflepuff averted his eyes, choosing to look at the wood paneling on the walls, rather than at the agitated blond beside him. "So I remained the same as I always have been. My family… we are all this way. We move between one place or another, always changing where we are before someone grows suspicious… and me… 'dying' in that maze," he shook his head and a small smile graced his full lips. "It seemed like as good a time to move as any."

"You… what?" Choosing to ignore the fact that his own mortality was in question, he focused in on the fact that there was something horribly awry with the situation at hand. "Are you telling me, Diggory, that you've been a… a vampire for..." He shook his head, it was all too absurd. Somewhere deep inside he knew that it was true.

"For over a hundred years. If you wouldn't mind, Malfoy… I know that I went by Cedric back at Hogwarts, but my real name is Edward Cullen."

"Cullen?" Draco thought about that, rolling the name around in his mind. It sounded uppercrust, perhaps this 'Edward' was made from the same stuff that he was. "Well alright, Cullen, I refuse to be a freak. There is a cure, right?"