Title: Eternity with You
Author/artist: winnett
Gift for: silverariel
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Summary: One moment with Harry was worth more than an eternity alone.
Warnings: Obviously a little blood play. Nothing else I can think of.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based in the world created by J.K.Rowling. They aren't mine and I make no money from them. I just like to let them out to play.
Author's notes: Written for silverariel for the hpvamp Vampentine's gift exchange. Thanks to my betas klynie1, amandasaitou, and serenitysmiles, without whom this story would be a pitiful jumble of letters and punctuation symbols.
Original request: I love mild bondage, slow seduction, courting via letters, given the community I think bloodplay is probably an obvious... definitely romance, preferably something R/NC-17. I do adore good plot, too, though. But as for a particular prompt, I don't have anything specific. Be creative. Make me squee!
Word count: Approximately 17,400
"Healer Potter, we have an emergency! Severe vermis encephalitis in an elderly crup."
What? There hadn't been a documented case of vermis encephalitis since the vaccination was developed three years ago. Harry pulled on his protective robe in pale blue and cast multiple sterilizing charms over his tools and hands. Two trainees stood nearby, ready for his next order.
"Get the crup to Prep Room 2. How could vermis encephalitis have developed far enough to need medical attention? There are vaccinations for this!" Harry grabbed his tray of potions and diagnostic tools and stalked towards Prep Room 2, the items on the tray rattling with each heavy step.
"Damned idiots, don't give a fuck about their pets," he snarled to himself as he passed two other healers heading the opposite direction towards Prep Room 5 of the Lakemore Magical Beast Health Clinic.
"Healer Potter, I need your signature on this release slip. For the bowtruckle found injured in south Wales," said an eager young man.
"Andrews, get Webster to sign it. I've got an emergency case." He passed by Andrews, wishing the intern would finally realize that when a healer had his arms full of medical equipment he generally had better things to do than sign paperwork. He stepped to the left, dodging a loose German shepherd, and finally arrived at Prep Room 2.
The room gleamed in lifeless sterility and waiting in the center on a porcelain table laid the sorriest looking crup he'd ever seen. A few tufts of hair were all that remained on its scrawny body due to the vermis encephalitis and the poor canine twitched incessantly as the worms, obviously beyond stage 3, burrowed deep into its nervous system.
"Okay, Skinton, perform systematic diagnostics to determine the extent of the damage to its nervous system, including brain stem and brain." Skinton grabbed a large device in the shape of a picture frame and moved it over the twitching crup. The animal thrashed and whimpered and another wad of hair floated to the floor. "Wolfwood, restrain it, would you?"
Harry pulled out his wand and began to prepare for the delicate procedure of exterminating the vermis encephalitis worms. He cursed people and the sins of their slothfulness as he faced the long night he and this poor animal were in for.
"Healer, here's the diagnostic." Skinton handed over the frame and Harry looked it over. He frowned in frustration. Full infiltration and major damage to the nerves. However, the brain was not infested which meant the animal had a chance, and Harry would do everything he could to save it.
"Okay trainees, hope you're ready for a long night." And Harry began removing the parasites, one by one.
"Perogies?"
Harry grunted at the enticing smell of pirogues slathered in butter and onions. They had to have come from the Pirozhki House, a few blocks off the wizarding section of London which stood right next to a great Thai place. Both establishments could unknowingly attribute most of their yearly income to the younger generation of wizards and witches.
"Hmmm, smells good." Harry dragged himself into a seated position on the little cot he had crashed on. The procedure had taken five long hours, but at least they had saved the life of the crup. Now he needed to find a new owner, because the existing one obviously didn't deserve to own such a special animal. Damn, some days his job really pissed him off.
"You look like crap, Potter."
Harry rubbed his gummy eyes and looked up at the crooked smile of Draco Malfoy, holding out a fork and a box of steaming perogies.
"Malfoy, you say the sweetest things. Ugh, long day." He reached over, grabbed the box and fork and with fevered relish dove into the much needed nourishment. "Merlin, I love these," he said through a mouthful of potato and onion.
"Manners. Please." Draco threw a napkin at Harry, which landed neatly on his head like a little hat.
Harry only grunted in reply, too tired to toss back any kind of response, let alone something properly scathing. He grabbed for the napkin and wiped at his mouth, mainly to humor Draco. Normally he wouldn't be arsed with table manners while devouring take-out in the back room of Lakemore.
Draco remained as Harry ate, settling himself on a wheeled chair behind a disorganized desk.
After a few minutes, Harry finally didn't feel quite so ravenous and slowed down his consumption of Russian potato dumplings. "Thanks Draco. I needed that." He wiped his mouth again and took the cup of black tea that Draco offered. "What would I do without you to watch my arse?" He chuckled to himself.
"Starve," Draco said simply. Then with a roll of the eyes he continued, "It's just one of the many steps of contrition I must pay for my wild, playboy years."
Harry looked up at Draco and saw his friend smile. Draco had changed drastically over the past few years. It had been half a decade since he, and quite a few other people, had finally taken down Lord Voldemort. Sure, Harry did lay that final, killing blow, but without Hermione and Ron or Kingsley and the rest of the Aurors, and especially without Snape and Draco filtering them information, they never would have succeeded.
"So, I'm a charity case, huh?" Harry asked.
"Of course. What else did you think, Potter?"
He and Draco hadn't immediately relinquished their animosity, but eventually it no longer seemed important. Once Harry had given up his hatred and anger towards the pureblooded snob, he found that Draco really wasn't that bad, if you could overlook his incessantly perverse sense of self-importance.
Harry, for a long time afterwards, couldn't figure out why Draco was so self-absorbed. There were scores of pure bloodlines; there were plenty of wealthy wizards and Muggles. Why had Draco felt he was better than everyone?
"Oh, just that I'm an all around amazing guy. Nice teeth, sweet disposition, Savoir of Puppies and Preserver of World Freedom and all that rot." Harry shrugged, continuing to eat with a bit more tact.
Then, during one battle towards the tail end of the war, Harry found out why; why it was that Draco felt, not necessarily better than everyone, but separate from everyone. Harry realized that this alienation the young Malfoy had felt caused him to appear condescending and snide towards the world. In a way, Harry recognized, it was something like uncertainty that caused Draco to act the way he had.
"Pshaw," Draco scoffed. "Think quite highly of yourself don't you? Savoir of Puppies! These titles you claim…" His lips twitched.
Harry had found out that the Malfoy bloodline, while pureblooded in the broad sense of the term, were also hereditary vampires.
Harry shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I only call it like I see it. I save puppies, why can't I claim that title?"
Of course, this well-hidden secret explained why Draco would never let anyone close to him. But after Harry had been captured and Draco had done everything in his power to break him free, including some spectacular physical feats no normal wizard could do, Harry put two and two together and came up with 'rare bloodline' that eventually lead him to 'vampire'.
Once Draco realized Harry had figured out his secret and hadn't descended into crazed fear or developed a rabid desire to jab a stake through his heart, he'd relaxed and had given up trying to act superior. Really, he was just a normal, average guy. Well, as normal as a hereditary vampire could be.
"You also eat sardines. Why not claim Consumer of Salted Fish. And not to mention your rancid feet. King of Foot Odor. I think that has a nice ring to it."
"My feet do not stink," Harry said indignantly, looking for something to throw at Draco's head.
Draco tapped his nose, nodding in a haughty, 'I know better than you' way.
"Oh sod off." He stuffed the last perogie in his mouth to stress the point.
Birth brought a hereditary vampire into the world, not an infectious bite, and weren't those that were created just oh so gauche, Draco always said. Heredity vampires were pretty much like everybody else, other than they drank blood instead of eating food, and were stronger, faster and usually smarter than normal people, though Hermione still kicked Draco's arse in school. Harry had done his own research and learned they could develop other, interesting powers, but Draco would never talk about it.
Yeah, just like everyone else.
Harry had wondered why Draco always looked so pale back in school.
"Mule," Draco said. "Mule with no manners."
"Mules don't have manners," Harry pointed out.
"Well, you have fewer manners than a mule," Draco said, smirking. Harry had to chuckle, because honestly, it was actually rather true.
"So, are you hungry?" Harry finally asked after he drank down the last swallow of black tea. He glanced over at Draco, who looked on him in that strangely curious way that made Harry feel that Draco had x-ray vision and was looking right into his heart and soul. Probably one of those 'interesting powers' that Draco never would confess to.
"Oh, I could drink a bit, if you have any catchoo on hand."
With a snort Harry fished around in a mini-cooler full of Marsha's Ever Frozen Water Cubes, three ham and cheese sandwiches that had long ago gone south, and a few wine bottles. With a contented grunt he pulled out a wine bottle full of a thick, red substance. He cast a quick warming spell on it and handed it over to Draco, who pulled the cork and took a long sip. A supply of catchoo blood was always available for Draco. Just one of the many routines the two had slowly developed over the years.
"Hmm, thanks. Hits the spot." And then, just like that, Draco smiled. Sometimes Draco's smiles were so intense they just seemed to knock the wind right out of Harry, like he was caught by a Petrificus spell and all he could do was look on and watch whatever it was that Draco did.
Must be something to do with that whole vampire thing, Harry thought, and smiled back in a way he knew wasn't half so disarming.
Since he and Draco had become so close, he kept a couple catchoo in the corral at the clinic. The paperwork explained them away as research animals, but he secretly bled them for Draco's needs. Their blood went a long way to feed a vampire, unlike that of most other creatures. A couple sips of the bovine-like creature's blood and Draco would no longer hunger, while it might take a few pints of cow or even human blood to completely sate him. Harry had asked him how it tasted, compared to other blood, and Draco just shrugged saying that some blood just tasted better and others just sustained and wouldn't elaborate on it any further. Damned reticent bastard.
But Harry was more than willing to do it for Draco. Draco saved his arse during the war and as one of his closest friends, it was the least he could do for him.
"God, I'm exhausted," Harry said, falling limply back to the cot after he'd finished his tea. Draco took another sip from his bottle and recorked it, stuffing it into a deep pocket of his winter peacoat.
"You staying here or did you want me to drag your sorry arse home?" Draco asked, chuckling as he stood.
"No, I'm going home. Can't stay here anymore. Here, make yourself useful…" Harry reached out his arms for Draco to grab.
Draco cocked an eyebrow, apparently unimpressed. Harry tried his best to look pitiful.
With an overtaxed sigh, Draco leaned forward and tugged on Harry's arms to pull him to his feet. "Fine, you sorry excuse for a war hero." Draco stepped in close and wrapped one arm around Harry's waist. This close Harry could smell his friend. The familiar scent of soap and waterproofing potion surrounded him in a cone of comfort and safety and he relaxed in Draco's arms as they Disapparated away.
He stood in the doorway and stared down at the resting man. Harry's facial muscles were slack in sleep, completely free of all tension from work or the world. A dark halo of hair surrounded his face on the white pillow giving him an air of something preternatural, otherworldly like the fae.
And he was beautiful.
Nights when he tucked Harry in after a generally trying day at the clinic, Draco would sit in his room and watch Harry as the dim glow of the moon lit his face and the shadows played games of age and youth during its passage across the evening sky.
And as the moon orbited the earth, so had Draco orbited the force that was Harry, powerful and drawing. Draco could not fight it. Nor did he want to. He wanted to be nowhere else but by Harry's side ever since that night Harry found out the truth about Draco… but if Draco were to be honest with himself, it was what he had sought for far longer.
Draco's breath would catch at the vision of the man lying there peacefully, and hidden away in these quiet moments he acknowledged that he loved him. It hurt him to think that, as if he were admitting to some inexcusable fault of his character.
But Harry didn't feel that way about him. For all Draco knew, Harry was as straight laced as the Weasel and would most certainly never show interest in a friend. Honorable Gryffindor.
Damn, why had he become such good friends with the object of his affection? But Draco knew that he would never give that up. He knew as long as he could always be by Harry's side, even if friendship was all he would ever earn from the beautiful, dark man, he would be content.
God, when had he turned into such a bleeding heart?
Draco crossed the room and laced his pale fingers through Harry's black hair. Light and Dark. Yin and Yang. And--Draco used to think--Good and Evil. Though Draco had never been Evil, he just lived by his own set of rules. Not only was he a pureblood and a Slytherin, he was also a vampire and things just didn't measure up the same when you could live into eternity.
Draco shivered. He hated to think about eternity.
"We're late," Draco said lying sprawled on Harry's bed, his arms tossed to his sides, waiting while Harry stood before the full-length mirror and stared at himself.
"Yeah, I know." Harry patted down his hair. It sprang back up. "Well, I guess I'm ready."
Draco pushed himself up and looked Harry over. He wore a dark blue, button-down shirt and nice black trousers. He looked very… professional. Draco stood and went to the closet, rifling through the clothing hanging there in a system designed by lottery. With a happy 'ah', he pulled out a dark green shirt with thin, black slashes patterned over it. "Wear this one."
"This one?" Harry looked at it curiously and held it in front of himself as he looked in the mirror.
"Yep. Brings out your eyes." Draco explained as he cast a dewrinkling spell over himself. A small fairy with a hot iron appeared and smoothed out the rumple marks in his shirt then disappeared with a faint tinkle.
Draco found Harry's eyes captivating, drawing him in like so many other things about the man. However, right now he avoided them purposefully and busied himself examining they keys on his new mobile phone that Harry had insisted he needed.
"Really?" Harry asked sounding pleased. Draco looked up from a glowing list of people he knew and saw Harry grinning at him. "Well, guess it's the green then."
"Potter, what would you do without me?" Draco asked in his most put-upon tone, putting the phone away.
"Well, obviously I would walk around dressed like a complete berk." He chuckled and stripped off his shirt, showing so much smooth skin that Draco stared on and tried heroically not to drool. For years now he'd been noticing Harry's strong body. Not so strong as to be overly muscled, but there was this inner sturdiness, an underlying iron, that Draco yearned to touch, to hold, to caress under the dim light of the stars.
But then he had been noticing Harry for a while now.
"It's good to acknowledge these things about oneself. Come on, Harry. Hermione and Ron will have an aneurysm if I don't get you to the bar soon. Who knows what dastardly things the sly Slytherin is doing with the oh, so innocent Gryffindor."
Harry chuckled some more. "Oh yes, most likely knocking over a Tesco or undermining the authority of the Ministry. Okay, so how do I look?"
He struck a fancy pose for Draco, who scrutinized him and nodded with a stern expression. "I guess it will have to do." He sighed disappointedly, trying to cover for the fact that he couldn't drag his eyes away.
"Sod off," Harry said, punctuating his words by pelting Draco with the balled up blue shirt.
Draco easily dodged the ball--Harry couldn't throw worth crap--and laughed at his friend. "Ready?" he asked.
"Yep." Harry vanished with a pop.
Draco stared at the vacant space where Harry once stood. The entire room seemed less real. Less alive. All the color faded away.
He Disapparated from the muted apartment.
When he arrived there was a rolling murmur to the room. The cawing and braying of those who had already enjoyed a shot or two or five told him that he and Harry were far later than he had thought. He knew all but one of the faces that surrounded the wide, oval table, but considering how the little Weaselchit was attached to the unknown, it seemed likely the burly looking man was the one she met while visiting her brother in Romania three weeks ago.
He glanced over to Harry to see his reaction, but Harry was chatting with Charlie and didn't seem to have noticed--or at least wasn't concerned by-- his ex's overwhelming flirtations with the other man.
"Draco! Bout time you got here." He was caught off guard by the full embrace of a woman and her very bushy hair.
He brushed some of the hair out of his eyes and smiled at his excited reception. "Hello Hermione. Good to see you, too."
"We've all been waiting. What took you so long?"
"Harry and his dreadful fashion sense," Draco said simply.
"Hey!" Came the cry from across the table. Perhaps he wasn't as absorbed with Charlie as he appeared.
Draco scanned the crowd teeming around the table stuffed in the back of Garish's, a local tapas bar that this motley group had been frequenting for the past few years. Piled high with drinks and food, the table practically creaked as the people leaned on it, reaching and grabbing for the dishes, reminding Draco of bees swarming over an exceptionally tasty magnolia bush. Plates of pan fesco andpatatas bravas as well as other dishes of aubergine and mushrooms covered most of the table's surface area.
One empty seat remained, and on the table before that vacant spot sat a shot glass, waiting to be filled. Draco made his way past the people, squeezing through the small space between the wall and the chairs and sat down between Harry and Ron. Harry and Draco always sat in the far corner by the overgrown cactus, mainly because Ginny had some inexplicable cactus fear, and Draco was one of the few people who Harry didn't get into a drinking contest with.
Red heads abounded around the table: Fred, George, Charlie and of course Ron and Ginny. There was the new man whom Ginny was fawning over, some Tad Oderlund or Overland or something like that, who worked with Charlie on the dragon reserve. And as always, wherever Ron and Harry could be found you could also find Hermione, whom Draco had become quite fond of even though she was a complete lush. Further down the table sat Dean Thomas and Pansy Parkinson, talking excitedly about something Draco couldn't discern over all of the other conversations hovering in the room. Next to Pansy sat Shelly Merchant, another Slytherin a year younger. Normally there would be Greg Goyle and Hannah Abbot as well, but that odd little couple was off on a cruise to see some frozen wasteland in the far northern reaches of America.
"Oi, Draco. Vodka?" Ron called loudly in his ear, holding a bottle over the shot glass.
Draco winced as his eardrum rattled more than was healthy, but nodded and Ron poured. He looked at Harry and noticed that he had already downed two shots. He always drank more after a hard week at the clinic.
It was such an odd scene, but familiar, and it shocked him to see himself here, in this den of acceptance and camaraderie.
Most things other than blood made him want to vomit, though his vampiric constitution could tolerate most liquids and he could keep down distilled spirits with relative ease. He never drank to excess, unlike Harry, Ron and Hermione, because he hated being out of control. It always concerned him that his friends would wonder and question his eating and drinking habits, so by using an occasional bit of slight of hand, he looked like he had munched something from his plate, and by downing a drink or two he hoped to sway his friends' curiosity on just how little he appeared to eat.
Plus Harry, always a reliable aid, constantly nicked food from his plate.
Ron rose and pushed his way to the bar, ready to order yet more food or more drinks or more something to keep the ravenous crowd appeased, and in his seat appeared Hermione, almost as if by Apparition.
"Hey Harry," she whispered so loudly that everyone within a three person radius went quiet and looked over at her. She leaned across Draco towards the object of her conversation, accidentally planting one bony elbow into his solar plexus.
"Hermione! Do you mind?" He asked, supporting his very drunk friend. "Do you want my seat?"
She looked over at Draco, eyes wide and stiff as if all of her concentration was directed at focusing on Draco's face. "No."
She turned back to Harry, who waited patiently, and said in that loud whisper, "I have a date for you." The smile Harry had sported immediately slipped off his face and a pained expression took its place.
"Hermione…" he whined.
Draco watched intently.
"No, she's a nice girl. Trust me. She works in my department… she's smart, but not as smart as me," she said in an oddly assuring manner. "Umm, she's pretty and funny and single." With the number of drinks Hermione had imbibed, Draco was very impressed her words did not blend together in a mash of slurs and spit. "And she said she would love to meet with you for drinks."
"Hermione! You didn't."
Hermione grinned. Harry scowled. Draco shifted uncomfortably.
"Why not, Harry? It's been a long time since you've dated and I just want to see you happy."
"I am happy, Hermione. Can't you accept that? Not everyone needs to be dating to be happy. Anyway, I have you, what more do I need?"
"Come on, Harry." The tone to her words was dangerously bordering on a whine and Draco knew that there was no way Harry could hold out much longer. There were many things that he knew about Harry; his lack of willpower to a full throttle Hermione whine was just one of those things. "Just one date. What will it hurt?"
By now the loud whispering had lost everyone's interest and they returned to their own conversations. Hermione had been trying to set up Harry for years now. He used to attend all of those unwanted dates, just to appease his friend, when Draco thoughtfully informed him that it really was his choice and no was a valid option. Hermione hadn't tried to ply him with some wayward woman since Harry actually applied no to her blind date set ups and Draco was shocked that she had started up matchmaking once more.
"Fine," Harry finally said. Draco gaped at him in shock. Hermione squealed.
Harry looked over at Draco and shrugged. "Not like I have anything else to do."
"How was it?" Draco asked. He placed a box of steaming rice on the table and opened another carton full of spicy beef. He fanned the box beneath Harry's nose as the other man lay still on his cot.
"What, the surgery or the date?"
"Oh, I'm sure the tumor never had a fighting chance, but I'm not so sure of your prowess on the date. Spiced beef?"
"Hmm, food. Merlin, Draco, I owe you. What could ever even out our debt? My first born? Left kidney?" Harry started stuffing his face with starved frenzy after he handed Draco a bottle of blood.
"Thanks," Draco said, lifting the bottle in a toast and taking a drink after he warmed it to a more enticing temperature. "How about you take some lessons in proper dinner etiquette? If that's too challenging for you, I would settle for the proper use of a napkin." The blood was good. Very good, and it slid down his throat, coating it, fulfilling a need within him. His father used to say drinking good blood was better than sex. But one day he had walked in on his father feasting on his mother and watched as the two writhed in each other's arms and Draco knew his father wasn't exactly forthright with him.
Draco had only drunk from a very few people and he never felt the way his father looked when his mother was in his arms.
After Harry's race to gluttony subsided Draco prodded again. "So, the date?"
He shrugged. "Fine I guess. Guinevere was beautiful and funny and I wasn't completely bored. But there wasn't any spark and what's the point if there isn't a spark? Ya know?" He met Draco's eyes and Draco saw something in them that pained him. Harry looked so lost and lonely and there was an edge of pleading worry in them, like he wanted Draco to tell him that he would find that spark someday and live happily ever after. Too bad he couldn't find that spark with Draco. Draco would make him happy till the ends of all time.
"Yes, I know," Draco said with a tired sigh. "And don't settle either. Wait until you find that right person." Draco knew he was cursing himself, urging Harry to find that 'special someone', but he really did want to see Harry as happy as Harry could ever be.
He was such an idiot.
"So, Harry. Didn't work out with Guinevere, huh?" Hermione sat in the chair between Harry and Ron and Draco leaned in to listen. Harry rolled his eyes.
"No, didn't work out. Done with the blind dates, okay." He rose, as if that was the last of that discussion, and walked up to the bar.
It was late on a Tuesday and most everyone had already gone home. Draco's antique shop was run by his employee during the day and he worked with the inventory, buying and selling, and any necessary curse removal during the night when he wasn't out drinking with his friends. He'd always preferred the night, even back in school, making the first class in the morning a real bitch.
Hermione bolted from her seat and followed Harry up to the counter. Without the usual numbers of people Draco could hear most of what they were saying, so he casually studied his drink and intensely listened to what Hermione had to say this time.
"Okay Harry. One more. Just one more. This person is really nice, great shape, pretty down to earth." Hermione's back was to Draco and Harry turned to face her. Harry looked pained. He didn't want to hurt his friend, Draco knew, but he also knew that Harry was really, really spreading his tolerance thin for her nosy tendencies.
"This person?"
"Yeah… Umm, his name is Michael."
Huh? His? Draco almost laughed. Harry wouldn't be up for that kind of a date.
Draco looked up at the two and saw that Harry hadn't laughed in Hermione's face. Why wasn't he laughing? "Uh… okay," Harry said, staring down at his shoes, not meeting Hermione's eyes. She clapped happily and said something that Draco couldn't hear over the thudding of blood in his ears.
Draco refused to ask. Really, he wasn't even supposed to know about the date since Harry hadn't talked to him about it. He watched as Harry ate a slice of pepperoni pizza covered in tiny fish and Draco sipped catchoo blood from his usual wine bottle.
"So, how was it today?" Draco asked.
Harry shrugged, staring at the grease congealing on the thin slices of pepperoni resting on the mozzarella cheese. He'd been studying it in silence for approximately five minutes, perhaps searching for the truth to the universe.
"Long day?" he prodded
"Not really. So, Draco?" Those piercing eyes locked on Draco and froze him in place.
"Yes?" he asked, his thick vampiric blood slugging through his veins, moving faster as his nerves urged his heart to beat on in alarm.
"Umm…well…" Harry ripped the crust off his pizza piece and tore it to tiny bits. "So, tell me more about your state, you know, as a vampire."
That was the worst ploy at a subject change Harry had tried in a very long time. Especially with him. But in all honesty, he didn't want to know what Harry had first wanted to talk to him about… Something in those eyes scared the shit out of him.
"You know most of it."
"Sure. Strength, speed, hair always perfectly in place. What about the myths, the stories. The mental domination, the shapeshifting, flight, stuff like that."
"Well…" Draco never liked to talk about the more… odd aspects to his physical state. Sure, Harry knew that he drank blood and had heightened physical powers, long life and a few other things, but they never really talked much about the other things he could do. "Why do you want to know now?"
"Just wondering. I was thinking the other day how fecking cool it was that I was the close, personal confidant to a real vampire but that I really didn't know anything about what vampires could do. Call it professional curiosity."
"Professional curiosity? You're a vet!" Draco cocked one eyebrow.
"See, that." Harry pointed at the eyebrow. "Is that a special vampire power?"
Draco snorted. "Why yes. It took me generations to master."
"Oh, so was Snape your instructor?" Harry broke out into a grin and Draco returned the smile, which slowly faded.
"Harry. You know I don't really like… talking about it. You of all people must understand that I don't want to be seen as anything different than anyone else."
Harry laughed at that, a full, slightly manic laugh. "You, different than anyone else? Oh no, just as long as they all acknowledge your superior breeding and class and etiquette and…" Harry continued dolling out the many ways in which Draco was better than the average individual and he knew that yes, Harry did understand, just like Draco knew he would.
CRASH!
A profuse amount of cursing permeated the air, along with an asthmatic amount of dust, as a pile of boxes cascaded down around Draco.
As the dust settled the harsh words slowly dissipated and ended in one, final, "Damn."
"Mr. Malfoy, is everything okay?" Alfred Dregor peaked through the back door and discovered the chaotic scene of Draco surrounded by boxes, years of dust and broken antiques. "Oh my, what happened, sir?" He rushed forward to help Draco pick up.
"Nothing Dregor. Damn, and I had plans tonight." He dusted off his trousers and set to work organizing the disaster that had become his back room.
He should have known better than to try to carry so many heavy boxes. With his Muggle employee Dregor around, Draco couldn't rely on magic or his vampiric abilities in case his actions were ever witnessed. He didn't want to brain damage the old man with repeated Obliviates. But sometimes he just wanted to get the damned job done and didn't toss a thought to how terribly plebian and bothersome the Muggle way was until he found himself surrounded by broken merchandize and a cloud of dust. He huffed. What was the point in being a wizard and a vampire if he couldn't use his magic? He should fire the bastard and hire someone else who he wouldn't have to hide from. Draco wiped the back of his hand across his brow, removing a miniscule amount of dust. But there wasn't anyone he didn't have to hide from other than Harry.
Too bad Dregor was too valuable to just let go. The man knew his antiques and his ledgers were immaculate. Plus he put up with stupid people far better than Draco ever could.
He pulled out his mobile phone and called Harry. "Hi. I'm going to be late."
"Why, what happened?" came Harry's concerned voice.
"Nothing but a minor mishap. Don't worry about it."
"Do you need my help?" Harry asked. Just like that, he offered his help without knowing exactly what the trouble Draco had gotten into. He glowed inside and smiled to himself.
"Yeah, sure."
A few minutes later Harry walked through the back door of his shop into the storage room. He was dressed in a full length duster with a grin plastered on his face. "What the hell did you do here?" He eyed the jumble of boxes and broken bits.
"Ah, I overtaxed myself." Draco gestured towards the front where Dregor was.
"Well, let's get this sorted out so we can get to Garish's."
"You're late!" Hermione pointed out, already three sheets and a duvet to the wind. She threw her arms around Harry and Draco, squeezing them with more might than her modest frame would suggest possible. Draco looked to the others for help, but they ignored Harry and him for the more interesting subject of food and drink.
"Gah," was the only noise Harry expressed. Draco didn't fair much better, working deftly on Hermione's vice grip to remove himself from her hold.
"Hermione!" Harry finally said. "Calm down, would you. What's gotten your knickers all in a bunch?"
For a moment Hermione looked like she might choose to be indignant about that last comment, but either her good mood or her pickled status curbed that response and she grinned at the guys instead. "I was just wondering how your date with Michael went?"
The room plummeted into silence. Harry's eyes grew wide in panic and he shot a look at Draco, a wary look reminiscent of a small rabbit just having caught the scent of a wolf.
Draco said nothing. His face reflected nothing. Inside, he felt nothing.
Swallowing past a large lump in his throat belied that conviction.
Harry looked back down to Hermione, who still continued that inane grin that dropped at least 100 IQ points from her features. "Umm… Fine. We have another date next week," he mumbled under his breath even as his blush reached the tip of his ears.
"Yeah!" she squealed. "I'm so happy for you, Harry!" She looked over at Draco and continued to smile, happy as an oblivious clam.
"So," called Seamus sitting at the table, intently watching the tableau before him. "Finally out o' the closet, are ya Harry?"
"What?" he sputtered.
"'Bout time," Pansy called over. "Sheesh. Never met anyone more in denial than you."
"Huh? But… I'm not…"
Ron walked up and patted Harry consolingly on the back. "Listen mate. We all thought you were, you know…gay… I mean, come on. You've all the signs. You only hang out with your friends. Never go on dates with women, and if you do they fail miserably. You spend far too much time on your appearance. It's obvious."
The whole room nodded, murmuring their agreement. Except for Draco. He didn't nod, nor murmur or do anything but stand there. He was in complete shock. Harry was gay? It was the one thing about Harry he hadn't noticed.
Draco paced before the fireplace, nibbling on a thumb. It was a bad habit, he knew that, but it helped him focus his thoughts; pile his information in nice categories. Organize his data.
Harry was gay.
How could he not have known? He knew about Harry's birthmark on the bottom of his foot, that his favorite ice cream was cookies and cream, that he was scared of driving and that after Christmas every year at the Burrow he came home depressed. Draco knew Harry. He studied him and was certainly the first and foremost expert on the man.
But he hadn't figured out Harry was gay.
He kicked at a chair leg and the chair skidded across the hardwood floor.
What should he do? Ignore it, pretend it didn't happen? Then Harry might think that Draco was ashamed of him or thought less of him. Harry was always so sensitive about what his friends thought about him. He could care less about the World at Large, but those he chose himself… they mattered. Did he bring it up to Harry? So, Harry… You're gay. Congratulations? Gah! He couldn't say that, what was he thinking?! Did he let Harry know of his own orientation? Of his own interest? Maybe ask him to dinner or take him to a show? But they did that anyway, it wouldn't be any different. Plus, how would Harry take that? One of his best friends hitting on him. He would probably hide in a hole somewhere for a while until he came to terms with it himself. Draco didn't want to stress him out.
He sighed at the empty room. Shite. He would just have to let Harry take the lead on this. But the thought of Harry with some bloke named Michael infuriated the fuck out of him. One thing was sure; he would not let that continue.
Draco glanced up at the clock over the mantel. Half past nine. He would be there in another 15 minutes for their usual Thursday night flick at the old Madison Theatre. He smoothed the front of his silvery shirt and patted his hair, a nervous habit he had seen Harry do repeatedly and something he never needed, since apparently perfect hair was one of his supernatural abilities.
He chuckled at that thought. He chuckled at Harry and shook his head at himself and his odd nervousness. Nothing had changed. Harry was still his friend and this new revelation would change nothing.
He stood poised before the fireplace ready to Floo to Draco's. It was their usual… night out… and Harry cringed that he almost thought date. Gah!
Why had Hermione done that? Spoke so loud that everyone knew he had a date with a man? He scowled… not that anyone seemed surprised. How come he was always the last to know these things?
Well, maybe not the last. He thought back to the completely dumfounded look in Draco's eyes and cringed inwardly at how alien it was, sitting on that usually expressive face.
What did it mean? Was he disgusted at Harry for going on a date with a man? No… Harry didn't think so anyway. He'd never shown any previous homophobic reactions. Gays, straights, anyone in between, it hadn't really seemed to matter to him.
Then why that blankness? That dead zone? Obviously it threw him for a loop, as it had Harry.
Harry tugged at his hair in frustration, stirring the shag into even greater heights of frenzy.
He would just act normal, like nothing happened. Nothing was any different.
He looked at the clock and saw he was a few minutes late. Oh well, no worries. Nothing odd here.
He tossed in the Powder and walked through green flames.
"Draco, you here?"
"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen."
Harry wandered through the living room around the ritzy, antique furniture Draco collected and entered the kitchen to see him putting away a coffee mug. He turned around and smiled at Harry. A very bright smile. A little too bright of a smile and Harry inwardly cursed himself. It did bother Draco that he'd had a date with a man and now his friend was trying to act normal.
He didn't know what to do, so he just smiled back.
"Ready to go? Don't want to miss the first part of Planet of the Vampires. That's where the entire plot resides," Harry said casually.
"Yeah, I'm ready. And what do you mean the first part has plot? I've seen this movie ten times and I tell you, the plot is all in the last five minutes where everybody dies."
"Not everyone dies! You still have invisible vampire, ghostly, demon people--or whatever they are--that survive. Oh if only the precious meteor repulser hadn't been destroyed, then they might have skipped poor planet Earth. So, is that a vampire power, mental possession? Can you take over dead people?"
Draco chuckled in a fair imitation of an overacting Romanian vampire. "I must keep my secrets from you, silly mortal."
Harry laughed full heartedly. "I'm still hoping to see if there's any, any sign in the actual movie that suggests they're vampires," Harry said with a wry grin. "Maybe I'll notice it this time 'round."
Draco shook his head, dashing Harry his hope. "Nope, nothing to do with vampires in the least. It's just that vampires are hot. Everyone wants to see a movie about vampires. False advertising was okay back in the '60s."
The two men grinned at each other and everything seemed all right.
Draco arrived at Harry's flat so they could go to Garish's together. However, instead of Harry lounging in his armchair per usual, he was pacing through the large room, slapping his thighs to an odd drum beat, rocking his head to some unknown music that must have been playing only in his head. Or he was having a seizure, Draco wasn't sure which.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked.
Harry stalled his odd march and looked up at Draco. His face was pale and he nibbled his lip. Draco's heart twitched. "Well?" Draco asked.
"I don't know what they'll… I mean since last…" His eyes pleaded with Draco, but it was a message Draco couldn't unravel. Finally Harry just said, "Oh, never mind."
"Harry, you can talk to me. Please, just talk to me."
But Harry only shook his head and grabbed his coat as he left through the door. Draco followed.
Another busy Saturday night at Garish's and the mad collection of Hogwarts graduates and war veterans were gathered around their usual table. Hermione held a glass of ginger beer, an unusual occasion for her, but Ron had accumulated a herd of empty lager glasses on his end of the table, obviously making up for Hermione's lack of consumption.
The minute they walked in the door Charlie jumped from his chair and lunged for Harry.
"Harry, you wouldn't believe!" he said excitedly.
"Hey Charlie, what's up?" Harry asked with a tight expression.
"I just got an owl from Romania. One of the female dragons at the preserve started showing signs of nesting. I've been called back tomorrow, but I wanted to know if you wanted to return with me and Tad."
Draco looked over at the visitor from the preserve, whose arm was wrapped around Ginny. Ginny looked absolutely frustrated and Tad seemed to be trying to ply some logic at her.
"Are you serious? Hell yeah I wanna go! How many chances do you get to be there for a dragon nesting? Can I stay till it hatches? I need to talk to Lakemore about time off, but I'm sure there'll be no problem for something of this rarity. Merlin, I can't believe my luck!"
Harry glowed with excitement, his earlier aloof attitude vanished. His worry just… gone.
In that moment Draco loved him so much he wanted to paint those words in red on every surface for all to see.
As promised here is my owl. I'm here in Romania! Charlie got me sorted out and I have a temporary room in the research station. I have a real bed even! so much better than the cot in the clinic.
Anyway, I just wanted to send Hedwig off now before I crashed. Merlin I'm exhausted. but I can't wait till tomorrow!
Harry
Harry,
It is good to hear that you arrived safely. Please keep me updated about your research on the dragon. As they are my namesake, I have a certain interest myself. My great uncle Aravind was quite the scholar on dragons up until the day he was bitten nearly in two by a Hungarian Horntail. He was never quite the same after that.
Hermione had a long letter for you and I offered to send it. Please reply to her letter as soon as possible. I'm afraid without you to mother, she will smother me.
Draco Malfoy
Draco,
Today we went out to the nesting site and saw the dragon. It's a Romanian Longhorn, and you should see this beauty, Draco. Her scales are shimmering emeralds. Yes I know how sappy that sounds, but trust me. I've enclosed a picture. And the golden horn always seems to catch the sunlight, even on a cloudy day. Spectacular!
And she does have an egg. We aren't sure exactly how old it is though.
When she gets a bit riled up she'll flame at you, and the flame is a bright yellow, as if the stuff came directly from the sun.
Don't worry! I didn't get flamed… well… not really. Just barely. I wanted to get a little closer to her and Charlie said it was okay, but I think I moved too quickly and she spouted a little flame at me. Luckily Charlie has this great ointment that clears it up in a couple weeks. I should be good as new by the time I get back!
Give Hermione a huge hug for me, okay. She sounds needy.
Later!
Harry
Harry you IDIOT! What do you think you're doing getting toasted by a pissed off momma dragon? Do I have to come over there and slap some sense into you?
Umm, Draco. You really didn't need to send a howler to Charlie. I was the laughing stock at dinner. Did Hermione put you up to this?
Draco,
Hey. It's been a few days and I haven't heard back from you so I wanted to just fill you in on what I've been doing.
So we worked with the longhorn a little more… I've named her Pansy… Ah, don't tell Parkinson that, okay. Anyway, she's now used to me being around. I even got up close to her to touch her scales. It's amazing Draco! They're so hard, yet flexible. And warm… very warm to the touch, due to the constant production of firegas, which makes everything smell like sulfur. Her egg's in the back of a long series of caves. It's started darkening in color, which means its hatching time is even closer than we thought, maybe only a month away.
Pansy hasn't let me close enough to examine the egg, but I think we are making progress. At least she lets me in her cave now!
No more new burns and my existing ones are healing nicely.
Hope you are well and everything at the shop is going fine. Don't forget to look in on the catchoo for me.
Please write back and have a good night.
Harry.
Potter. Hermione says you're nagging her about me. I am still pissed, but she insisted I drop a note to let you know I am alive and the shop is fine. Do not get yourself killed.
Draco! It's so good to hear from you. Please don't ignore me like that again. I… well, just don't, okay.
All is well. I got to sit next to the egg and studied it a bit to see how it's progressing. The dragon, Pansy, is doing well. She trusts me now and she's as healthy as a… well a dragon!
Happy you wrote,
Harry
Harry,
I guess I shall forgive you… But you remember this. If you ever put yourself in needless danger again, I will eviscerate you and then never speak to you again. You already faced down a madman, why must you face down a mother dragon?
Pansy pouted that you named a nesting dragon after her, though honestly I think she is secretly pleased.
Lesson of the Day: Hermione can be a major nag when she wants to be. In case you weren't aware of that I thought I'd fill you in. Now I see why you really passed your NEWTs with Voldemort salivating for your blood.
The shop is fine. The catchoo are fine. I am fine.
Draco Malfoy.
Okay, so what did Hermione do? And yes. I do know she is quite the nag… but all of the other good stuff makes up for that part.
All of the other 'good stuff' makes up for her superior nagging ability? I'll have to trust in your knowledge on that one, Potter.
Anyway, she seems to think it is a bad idea for me to stop speaking to you, since you apparently go whining to her if anything goes off in your life. Maybe it isn't her I should be releasing the warning about. Perhaps I should be warning the world about you and your nagging ability.
Are you and Granger long lost siblings?
Ah, sod it. It just boggles the mind.
Ha Ha! Yeah, well when I didn't hear from you I got worried. Siblings? No. Just best friends. I'd do the same for you.
I'm touched.
So, how's the dragon?
Draco,
How are you doing today? It rained an ocean on us last night and it's still raining, so we won't be getting out to Pansy's nest for a few days. I need to organize my notes anyway.
Pansy is doing fine. A little more agitated now that her egg has turned a deep blue. Almost time! Oh, here's a picture of the egg. Isn't it pretty? Charlie and I are going to be camping out there once we can get to the cave so we can be there the entire time. I hope there isn't going to be any problems with the hatching, I mean dragons have been doing this for thousands of years without anyone's help, but I want to be there just in case.
Everyone at the reserve is great. I've been making tons of friends. Actually I've been thinking that maybe clinic work isn't for me. Remember when I decided to become a vet and everyone questioned why the hell I wanted to do that? Well, it was just something that felt right. I knew I wanted to do something positive for someone who couldn't really help themselves so it seemed like it was either work with orphans or animals, and orphans just touched too close to home. I still like working with animals, but this hands on research is just much more, not necessarily interesting, but fulfilling. Not that helping pets isn't important but I guess I just like being out here in the heat of things.
Heheh, heat of things. Merlin, I amuse myself.
But the bad thing is I'd miss London and everyone there. I hate these moments where one little decision can change the course of your life forever. Or maybe I like them. It makes life less flat. It also makes me feel like I'm in control. Life is my choice.
Do you ever feel that way? Or am I just going off on a completely random feeling that nobody else has had.
Or am I just going off?
Well, I should go, this letter has drawn on long enough.
Write soon,
Harry
Harry,
Of course I know what you are talking about. Most people have that feeling, so while you are a freak, you are not a freak in this sense. Though your humor does leave much still in question.
Life is your choice. Don't ever think that just because a prophecy brought about your fight with Voldemort that everything else is planned. But you also need to follow what feels right. I don't think that just because you feel more fulfilled at the dragon reserve than at a puppy clinic means that it was painted in the stars that you would work on dragons. Sometimes things just fit better. It doesn't have to be fate.
And since we are bearing our souls and being honest, I can't say that the antique shop is my dream career, either. I really enjoy breaking the curses on the items, but sale? That isn't something I enjoy. I could just as easily leave the shop forever and let Dregor run it. But at this point in my life I don't have any other pressing desire to do anything else.
Maybe I should become a curse breaker. I'll have to look into that.
Well that gives a thought to pause on and on that note I shall leave you to the beasts. Oh, Ron said to tell Charlie that he needs to remember Molly's birthday.
Best wishes for the baby dragon,
Draco
Draco. Rains have stopped. We're heading out to the cave now. Won't be able to owl for a couple days. I can't believe I am going to be there when Pansy's baby hatches!!!
Harry,
Owl me when you return and send a picture of the little grub.
Draco
Harry,
I'm guessing you haven't emerged from the cave yet, but it's been a few days and Hermione is worried. Owl when you can.
Draco
Mr. Edward Alloy
Head Keeper of Romanian Longhorn Dragon Reservation
I am owling you in query to the status of Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Charles Weasley. It has been a week and neither of these men have been heard from since they left for the cave of Pansy the Romanian Longhorn to observe the hatching of her egg.
Please reply concerning the whereabouts and status of either of these two men.
Thank you,
Mr. Draco Malfoy
Dear Mr. Malfoy,
I regret to inform you that neither Harry Potter nor Charlie Weasley have returned from the cave of Romanian Longhorn #327 nor has anyone been able to enter the cave to determine their status.
There had been a minor tremor in the Carpathian Mountains and with the current rains destabilizing the area's infrastructure, a landslide occurred. The Romanian Longhorn, Harry Potter and Charlie Weasley are all trapped within. The problem lies in that the mouth of the cave is unstable, so utmost care must be taken in excavating the area not to mention we must not further agitate the Romanian Longhorn or she might cause additional destruction and would put those two men into further danger.
We are doing everything we can in this situation and will contact you as soon as there is any new information.
Sincerely,
Mr. Edward Alloy
A groan escaped his lips. A weak groan that would have slipped passed a mouse's notice, but it was at least a sign of life. Blackness surrounded him. Empty, hollow blackness. Either he was blind or buried in the belly of the dragon's den. Though his brain was still addled (how long had he been out?) and he smelled of blood and shit, he automatically starting running a mental survey of his body's aches and pains.
Broken ankle and femur on his left leg, he couldn't feel his right at all, definitely something internally not right in his abdomen, cracked ribs--he took a deep breath and winced--probably close to puncturing a lung, his shoulder hurt and the right side of his temple throbbed.
Prognosis: Not good.
Panic, like a vicious little rat gnawing on his nerves, overtook him and he struggled to rise.
PaingodohgodpainfuckmerlinpainpainpainPainPAIN
And the black world faded again.
"Where the hell is that damned cave?" demanded Draco Malfoy, full of fury and vile contempt. As if these people could keep him away.
"Mr. Malfoy, we cannot allow you entrance into the dragon reserve. You will only endanger yourself and the members of the research program."
"I don't think you understand, Mr. Alloy. I am going onto that reserve and I am searching for the two men you have abandoned, and neither you, nor anyone else, can stop me. Do you comprehend?" Spit flew from Draco's heated words as the Head Keeper shrank back from the full force of the brewing tempest. "You can either tell me now where the cave is, or I will cast Unforgivables upon you until you tell me what I want to know."
The older man cowered even more, but would not give. "Mr. Malfoy, please calm down. We are doing everything we can…"
"It's been over a week. They have been in whatever state they are for over a week and time is running out!" Draco didn't know exactly how he knew this, he just did. His intuition that had been nudging him since he hadn't received a letter from Harry six days ago had now turned into an inferno in his veins.
"Please, Mr. Malfoy, calm down. Both Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter have supplies that should last through this incident and both are quite capable men. The original cave mouth has been thoroughly examined by our crew. There currently is no way in. They are looking for alternatives..." Alloy tried to explain.
"Fine!" Without a second thought, Draco drew out his wand and ripped the information from the man's mind.
Alloy screamed and fell to his knees from the force of the Legilimens, but Draco had what he needed and he couldn't be arsed to care about the foul fucker who hadn't even tried to save his Harry.
There wasn't a cave mouth. There was a pile of rubble. But this had to be the place. It had the right evergreens in the right places, that huge burnt stump was right below that overhang in the cliff. This was the place.
But the cave mouth was gone.
"Harry!" he called out into the broken forest. "Charlie!"
Draco thought he heard a distant rumble coming from the west. Nothing else made a sound except for a soft breeze through the trees. He scrambled up loose rocks to where the cave entrance should have been, slipping once or twice due to his haste, but finally reached his destination without incident.
A pile of rubble.
The collapse had been complete, just like Alloy had said.
He looked around the area, searching for some concealed access in the impenetrable wall of fallen mountain. All he saw were boulders of all sizes, balancing precariously in their unplanned cradles, hiding secrets buried beneath.
There had to be another way in, he just couldn't see it with these eyes.
He took a deep breath and called to his blood, languidly it stirred within his veins. There were many things he could do as a vampire. As a child he had toyed with his abilities under his father's tutelage at the Manor, but had forgone practicing since his early days at Hogwarts. It was abnormal, inhuman. Somehow, he'd never felt comfortable embracing his true vampiric self. But Harry… Harry was in trouble. Screw whatever delicate sensibilities he harbored. For Harry, he would do anything.
He doffed his clothing and wrapped his wand with the fabric, carefully stuffing the tight bundle into a small fissure in the rocks. He couldn't use any of that with what he was going to do next.
Building slowly, like a steam engine gaining speed, Draco felt his body crackle and pull. Minutes crept by and an eagle called overhead, circling on warm thermals. He never liked the sensation, it made him feel like he was falling apart and wasn't that true? His cells broke down, mutating from flesh to bone to sinew, and it hurt, oh did it ever, but it wasn't a physical pain, it was more innate, something deep within that was destroyed and reformed and made him feel like other than Draco Malfoy.
Slowly, bit by bit, pieces of him dropped to the ground, a bundle of squirming flesh that reformed back to bone and tendon and fur; reformed into a swarm of frantic, white rats. His father had always told him to take pride that they were white rats, apparently it was another sign of their nobility… of their purity. Draco never bought that.
It was the oddest feeling to have one consciousness harbored within a multitude of separate beings. It wasn't anything he could actually explain to anyone. To see out of scores of eyes, to smell from all directions, to filter out the static of his rat-like wishes and focus on those desires that came from Draco Malfoy. It went far beyond simple, physical clarification; it was something that stemmed from the soul.
The rats that were once Draco spread out over the rock fall and started to dig and nose their way into every promising space, each seeking a way to Harry.
When one rat finally found a passage that looked viable, the entire swarm retreated from the other passages and refocused their numbers, moving deeper into the darkness. Digging, scraping, pushing their tiny bodies through even tinier passages. One had to get through. Just one.
And one did.
Draco, fractured into a hundred tiny, beady eyes, emerged from the fissured route into a large open space. It was pitch black inside the cavern. There were no stars, no sun, no spark of the day to light the way. But that didn't matter. In unison the hundreds of eyes glowed faintly gray and he could see, with vision like a fly, he could see all about him.
The cavern loomed about him in grand enormity, but then he was much smaller than his usual form. It continued back further into the mountain and in that direction the swarm continued. The tiny, white shapes scurried like a wave across the floor. They rose and fell, undulating over a smattering of fallen boulders and stones that cluttered the once smooth ground. Squeaks echoed off the walls, heralding to anything at the end of the cave that something numerous descended.
Phasing in and out of that dark space of delirium, Harry heard an odd noise, like a thousand country carts being pulled down a lane each with a rusty, squeaky wheel. And they moved faster, closing in on him, the squeaks speeding up and reaching out with mad obsession. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn't work, and eventually the carts circled him, surrounded him. They stood still but the noise didn't stop and then they slowly disappeared, faded before his very eyes and in their place crouched a horde of rats. Rats with glowing gray eyes whose ceaseless squeaking ate into his brain, seeking out the cognizant portions and feasting on his sanity. He passed out once more.
Before he even saw any sign of a human presence, Draco knew Harry was near. He sensed it in his blood. With the scent of his prey driving him ever onward, he found him prone, surrounded by a few scattered effects like sandwich wrappers and banana peels. One leg sat in a pool of coagulated blood pinned under a boulder the size of a cooking range and Draco knew that Harry's life was balanced in a precarious position.
With effort he began to gather himself, slowly reforming into one being. The process was not quick by any means and after several minutes, and a lot of energy, Draco Malfoy stood once again where a plague of rats had once gathered, dizzy and disorientated.
He was as bare as the day of his birth, but the cool air didn't bother him. He dropped to Harry's side and quickly felt over his body, assessing the damage, caressing his clammy skin. Harry's leg was completely crushed underneath the large boulder and it appeared few parts of him escaped damage from the internal collapse during the quake.
"Harry. Harry, please, wake up." Draco patted Harry's face, fearful of the heat radiating from the pale skin. His dark sight burned, casting a soft, gray glow over Harry, making him look even more deathly.
And the blood. Draco tried not to focus on it because he hungered after his previous exertion, but the puddle pooled around Harry's ruined leg let him know that help could not be had soon enough.
"Harry, please." A soft sob escaped Draco's lips as despair wormed up his spine.
A tiny moan, almost missed in the silent tomb, caught Draco's attention. He leaned over Harry and placed his ear over Harry's mouth, listening for the slightest sound.
"Harry?" he asked again, swallowing down his hope.
"Draco?" came the exhausted reply, more an exhalation of breath than a true word.
"Yes. Yes, I'm here." He petted Harry's black matted hair, dirty and limp against his skull.
After silent minutes passed, Draco stood and surveyed the area. One Harry Potter crushed under large stone. No Charlie. No dragon. A few empty food wrappers and no water. A person couldn't survive this long without water! Draco had to do something. Water. Water. He had to find water.
With a new goal and the will and need to do something, Draco clambered down the length of the long cave. Even with his specialized vision, the shadows and dark recesses still held majority within the cavern. While he didn't have to check every one--his keen nose would tell him about the existence of water--he still searched those that looked like they might be large enough passages to branch off deeper into the mountain. It could be an exit and he couldn't miss that chance.
Finally, after gathering layers of dust and bumping his head on a low ceiling, he found something of interest. A very large body of a greenish colored dragon.
Nothing made sense. First some old country carts attempted to run him over, then he was being eaten by rats and finally he heard Draco by his side mumbling.
Was he dead?
His entire body throbbed and he knew he wasn't going to last long, especially if he had hit the delirium stage. He worried about Charlie, who had been caught near the nest during the cave in, and Pansy. He hoped Pansy was okay. If only he could just get up and go check on her.
He felt around for his wand and found it underneath him, poking in his hip. The wooden shaft felt wrong in his hand, odd and wobbly. A wand wasn't supposed to be… wobbly. With titanic effort he lifted it and slid his other hand up the shaft only to discover something entirely catastrophic. His wand. It was broken.
To the uncaring silence he quietly sobbed himself to sleep.
It was the only thing he could think of, and he blushed just thinking about it, but he knew water was imperative at this point. So fidgeting with uncharacteristic shyness, Draco leaned over Harry, ready to press his lips to those of the man who held is heart, and paused to examine his face.
Even bloody and broken with worry lines and a grimace of pain, he was lovely.
Leaning closer he finally, for the first time, touched his mouth to Harry's chapped and split lips. With his trembling hand he tenderly pulled open the jaw and slowly let the water trickle from his mouth into Harry's. Harry reflexively gulped the small offering down.
Draco left to get more.
Gah! Sweet, cool water. It soothed Harry's parched throat like a salve and he wanted more. But no more came, so he faded once again.
Approximately fifteen trips to an underground stream later, Draco once again leaned over Harry and open his mouth. This time when their lips touched and he dribbled the water into Harry's mouth there was a twitch. Draco's eyes popped open (when had he closed them?) and saw that Harry's eyes peered up at him, focusing on the glow from his own.
He quickly sat back.
"You're awake!" he said happily. His words boomed in the cavern, louder than the bang of sparklefire on the New Year.
"Draco? What's going on?" Harry asked with a dazed slur.
"What do you remember?" Draco asked lowering his voice.
"Cave in. Where's Charlie? Why're you here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, though. And it's so dark," Harry said, straining under each word.
"I haven't found Charlie. The dragon is dead; I'm sorry. Sliced open by a huge rock, pretty sharp. I'm here because you didn't owl. So I came to find you. I don't have my wand so can't create light." He rattled off the information in quick processions and then paused for a breath.
"Pansy's dead?" Draco could hear the sorrow in his words. "And no Charlie? Damn, this is so fucked."
Draco watched as Harry grabbed for something at his side and revealed his broken wand. His heart lurched to see it. The connection between a wand and its wizard was one of the strongest bonds and the destruction of one was like an amputation of part of a wizard's soul. Harry pushed the wand into Draco's hand. "Here, use this, please. I'm so sick of the dark."
Draco turned the broken wand over in his hand. Who knew what disaster this was going to cause? Broken wands were notoriously untrustworthily. He used it anyway. "Lumos," he said.
Harry looked up at him with a smile, and then shocked amusement. "You're naked," he pointed out helpfully.
Draco quickly repositioned himself. "Yes, well… I'm naked because…" he stopped short.
"Because?" Harry asked inquisitively, licking his flaking lips and swallowing dryly.
"Because when I change I can't take anything with me… not even my wand," he said with resignation.
"Change?"
"Yeah, vampire thing."
"Oh. Okay. Umm, you were giving me water?" Harry asked, a curious lilt to his words.
"Yeah, it's the only way I could get you liquids. Sorry 'bout that," he said in a rush.
"Oh no! Really, thank you. I was dying of thirst. Literally. How long?"
"How long?" Draco asked confused. How long had he been giving Harry water?
"Since the cave in."
"A week," Draco said simply.
"What? A week? I've been down here a week? My leg's going to fucking rot off!"
Draco jumped to his feet, forgetting about his absolute nakedness, and examined the boulder and its unfortunate position on top of Harry's leg. "I can push it off you," he said, "but it's going to hurt like Hades."
Harry nodded, eyes wide and fearful. "Can't be helped. I gotta look at it." He swallowed again.
Draco nodded and leaned against the huge rock that stood about chest high. He crouched low and braced his shoulder against the unyielding stone. With a rather unattractive grunt he pushed. It teetered and Harry yelled out in pain, but Draco didn't stop. He took a step forward, continuing to push with such staunch intensity he feared for the integrity of his shoulder. He blocked out Harry's muffled cries and gave one final heave until finally the boulder rolled off of Harry's crushed leg.
Draco squatted next to Harry, griping his hand as the man panted against the pain, eyes rolling back to show only white.
"Fuck. Fuck… Shite," Harry cried and then squeezed his eyes tight. He clutched at Draco's hand, gripping it so hard the minute bones groaned and scraped against each other.
"Harry. It's okay. I know it hurts. Fuck. I'm so sorry." Draco continued to talk to Harry, attempting to offer consolation to the agony. There was a putrid stench in the air and he worried that Harry might lose that leg. He'd never felt so helpless, not even when he discovered Harry trapped in Voldemort's dungeons.
There was also blood that day. He still remembered the blood seeping from Harry's wounds, the smell of it, the thirst it coaxed against his usual mighty will. It affected him like no blood ever had. And that same blood, spilled on this dusty stone floor, played havoc on Draco's empty stomach and he hungered.
He had to get Harry out of here and soon.
After the pain subsided, Draco helped Harry sit up to examine himself. "Merlin, I haven't seen anything this nasty since the war." He sounded hopeless and dead.
"Harry, I know a few medical charms, would you like me to do what I can, or do you want to heal yourself?"
"Let me do it. Thanks though." He looked up at Draco and smiled softy. Draco stilled the urge to kiss him, instead he handed back his wand.
"Digagio." "Reputio." "Clurid Destorag." And on and on for what seemed like an hour, Harry cast spell after spell with his pitifully snapped wand and only received partial results.
"At least the spells didn't backfire on me," he said. Draco knew Harry had exhausted himself, but at least the rotten smell of his leg had disappeared and even if he wasn't completely healed, he wasn't in threat of death any longer. Most of his superficial wounds scabbed over and Harry assured him that the internal damage had been patched enough, but his leg still remained twisted and useless.
Afterward, Harry passed out, totally drained from the ordeal and lack of food and Draco began searching for Charlie again. He had to be down here somewhere. But he was torn; torn between searching as himself or searching as his horde. The horde would move more quickly and overwhelmingly expand his search area, but he was already hungry and he didn't know if he could stand transforming again. Plus, he had no idea what other tricks he would have to pull from of his blood heritage to get them out of there alive.
He chose to go on foot, in human form, and the decision calmed his anxiety.
The cavern was silent except for the sound of his feet scraping on the stones. He looked up but the gleam from his eyes didn't reach the ceiling. This is where the dragon lay, huge and rotting and cold to the touch, never to flame again. Draco quickly sidestepped the corpse, a deep cut gouged in her neck, wanting to avoid the stench of cinders that seemed so familiar to dragons, and coagulated blood that had settled heavy in her veins. He continued on down the passage, hoping… needing there to be another way out.
He passed the little stream trickling through a crevice deep in the mountain. The tunnel branched and Draco followed the passage that vaguely went up but also bent back to where he thought the cliff wall stood.
As the overpowering scent from the dragon faded with distance, Draco became certain he caught another scent. Still of blood, but of the human variety and he rushed forward, over broken stones and rubble piles to find the twisted body of Charlie Weasley.
Draco froze half dazed. My God. Charlie Weasley dead! He raced up to the man and felt for a pulse, leaning forward to listen for a breath and felt both a dull, faint pulse on his wrist as well as a gentle exhalation.
He stood, examining the sorry scene, searching over the fallen stones and broken body for a way out, rifling through his brain so he could help his friends. A small satchel lay near the man and Draco found three empty bottles of water and some uneaten food—at least he hadn't been unconscious the entire time—but there was nothing of real use.
The temperature was warmer here and Draco noticed a shift to the air, like a miniscule wind had sneaked through the cracks down the length of this tube within the earth. Wind, warm wind! It had to be from the outside.
He had no choice this time. Urging his blood, stirring it to life, he slowly fell apart once more, dropping to the floor rat by rat, eager and growing hungrier each change.
With effort, Harry had repositioned himself to lean against the very stone that once promised a gangrenous death. Certain he had the strength to walk, he tried standing, only to fall back on his arse when he accidentally put weight on the leg. Obviously the bones within still rattled about in pieces. He would need more than charms and a broken wand to fix that injury. He needed Skele-Grow and Harry didn't carry such specific potions with him.
He'd eaten all of his provisions before his fever had hijacked his clear thought, and he remembered throwing his empty water jug to the far end of the cave in annoyance at discovering it empty.
His stomach growled. Shite, what he wouldn't give for some fish and chips. Or just chips. Or perhaps even shoe leather.
With some effort and brief experimentation he learned to move with a kind of hobble-scramble and he began to make his way down the long cave the way Draco had gone. He didn't get very far with his slow progress until he heard an odd noise coming his direction. As the high pitched sound grew louder he had odd visions of donkey pulled carts on squeaky wheels but that thought was blow away when a wave of white rats came charging his direction. Though Harry was a vet--excellent in his bedside manner--it would definitely be a man with nerves of steel who faced a swarming horde of rats with a broken wand. Harry was not that man. He turned and attempted to hobble away, moving no faster than a geriatric grandma in a wheeled walker.
He fell to the ground as the rats surrounded him and knew this was the end of him. He wished again that his wand wasn't broken and prayed that Charlie and Draco were okay. Where the hell did these things come from? Why were this many rats living in a dragon's cave? It made no sense!
He waited, tensed for the moment when they would begin to crawl all over him, biting and rending his flesh, but that moment never came. Instead the rats did something completely astounding, something so odd that Harry wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing.
They seemed to lose their shape, their singularity, and just disintegrated, becoming an odd puddle like substance. The gooey stuff merged together like a pile of silly putty, malleable and without distinction. Then the blob slowly began to take form, flowing upward to shape two columns and then absorbing together above that, growing taller until it was roughly Harry's height. It continued to morph before him, snake like tentacles erupting out of each side became what looked like arms and finally a bulge on top gained definition. A few more seconds passed and Harry's shock stalled all higher mental functions as the amorphous substance finally turned into one Draco Malfoy.
"Hi," said the naked man.
Harry stared.
"Uh, well," Draco began. "Now you know one of my blood talents," he said with a worried smile.
Harry slowly closed his jaw. "That was…" Harry searched his brain for exactly what it was. The English language failed him.
Draco's head dropped, his hair shielding his face from Harry's examining look.
"…amazing," he finally said, realizing it certainly came nowhere near close to the mark.
Draco looked up. "Amazing?" he asked softly.
"Fucking brilliant, Draco!" Harry laughed. "Why didn't you show me that before? I mean, holy hell, you turned your one body into a multitude of rats! How amazing is that? I'm not aware of any other being that can do anything remotely that incredible."
"The Merlion of the Asian seas can turn itself into a school of cat fish," Draco informed him in a quiet voice.
Harry laughed and stumbled towards Draco, who reached out only to receive a fierce hug.
"So, that's how you got in, huh?"
Draco nodded with a warm smile, shy in the dim light of the wand.
"Thank you, Draco. Thank you for saving me and thank you for trusting me." Harry continued to hug his friend, relief and amazement brewing a dumbfounding potion in his brain. It took him a moment to feel Draco stiffen in his arms.
He pulled back and looked into Draco's glowing gray eyes, hands gripping the blond's shoulders. Even in the dim light he could see the rising color to his cheeks. Oh! He was hugging his friend; his naked friend! Harry immediately dropped his arms from Draco's shoulders and stared off into empty space, his own ears turning pink.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Want my robe?" He pulled off his tattered and stained outer robe and handed it to Draco, who took it gratefully.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
A complete lack of sound descended upon the two.
"Umm…" Draco said while Harry mumbled, "So."
Draco laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I found a way out," he said cheerily.
"That's great!" The awkward moment inconsequently dissipated.
"And I found Charlie, he isn't dead, but he doesn't look good," Draco said dully, his earlier excitement muted.
"But he's not dead, that means there's a chance," Harry said with optimistic energy. Things weren't as bad as they could have been. His gaze returned to Draco and what they saw alarmed him. Draco was shifty and twitchy and he didn't look at all pleased. In fact, he seemed agitated, almost cagey, like a wild beast that'd been backed into a corner. Desperation, that's what it was. Draco looked desperate.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
Refusing to meet his eyes, Draco just shrugged.
"Tell me, God damn it! We don't have time for this. Is it something to do with your vampire abilities? Trust me, nothing after what I just saw is going to shock me now."
Draco looked up and then Harry noticed it. The wand light was so low he barely caught it, but when he did it was unmistakable. Poking out from between Draco's lips was the edge of a tooth. His canines had extended. He'd never seen such a thing on Draco before.
Harry tried to think about what that meant. There was just so little known about vampires, being very anti-social and secretive beings. Harry read once that it meant they were ready to kill, but there was no death glean in those gray eyes. Maybe it was an aftereffect of reforming into a human shape? But Harry didn't think that was right either.
"Draco, what is wrong?" Each word was stressed with precise pronunciation.
"Nothing. Let's go get Charlie, okay." His voice was rough, husky almost. Why hadn't Harry noticed it before? It was just a whisper. A controlled whisper.
"Draco? How do you do it? This change you just went through. How do you do it?"
Draco looked up at Harry and Harry gasped at the look in his eyes, constantly shifting, trying to tell him everything even if his mouth would utter no explanation. "Don't ask me, Harry." They pleaded with him.
"Draco, please. You can trust me."
"I do trust you, just…"
"How?"
Draco took a deep breath. "It is a modification of the blood, really. I can't explain the scientifics or the magics of it, just that you use the blood and the change occurs. All of my abilities are fueled by my blood."
"Fueled by? As in it's consumed in the change, like the ingredients of a potion?" This could be bad.
Draco nodded, not meeting Harry's eyes. Harry hated seeing Draco like this. This squirrelly, shifty Draco who seemed to be either ashamed or desperately trying to hide something.
"Are you going to be okay? Are you hungry? Do you need blood?"
A fire flared in Draco's eyes at the question and his lip lifted in a snarl. Harry'd never seen that look before. That purely animal look readily described in two-bit research texts and half-cocked romance novels. The blood lust. It was there, right under the surface and Draco was fighting it.
"Draco. Are you going to be okay?"
He watched as Draco's nostril's flared and the man swallowed. He stood straighter and lifted his chin, that fierce look shunted behind iron shutters. "Of course I'm fine. You need not worry about me, Potter. I'm not the one with a crushed leg. Let's get out of here."
"Don't you Potter me, Malfoy. Fuck, can't you just talk to me? Can't you tell me the truth?"
In a flash Draco lunged for Harry, gripping his shirt in his fist and jerking him chest to chest with Draco. Those eyes burned, the gray glow tinged with a red spark. His canines practically glowed in the dim light, sharp and menacing and his nostrils continued to flare as if hunting his prey by scent.
"You want to know the truth, Harry?" Draco's voice was low, guttural and Harry blushed that the sound went straight to his cock. What was he thinking? Getting hard right now with Draco looming and radiating threat? "The truth? The truth is pumping through your veins. I can practically taste it in the air from the wound's you've received. The fact is that I want to sink my teeth into your throat and guzzle you down, taste your power, your blood, you. That's the fucking truth. I'm barely holding back, I've overtaxed myself saving your sorry arse, so please… kindly… Quit Provoking The Hungry Vampire!" Draco thrust Harry away from him and stumbled away, crumpling to the floor.
Harry kept his feet, barely. His heart beat with fear and excitement, a mile a minute, ready to burst from his chest. He had no idea! Well how could he; Draco never told him a God damned thing.
"Draco," he said in a calming voice. The very voice he used to calm rampant griffins and dangerous dragons.
"Get the fuck away from me, Potter."
"Draco. Is there a reason you can't feed from me?"
Slowly, Draco looked up from his crouched position; eyes wide like a frightened horse, a vicious sneer marring his smooth features. The expression was incongruous and ugly.
"What the fuck? Do you want me to kill you?"
Slow shuffles brought Harry closer and closer to Draco, who shrank with every inch he gained. "Draco," Harry said and watched as the man flinched at the word. "Draco, why would you kill me? I trust you. You won't hurt me." With pained effort, Harry squatted next to his friend, his broken leg propped off to one side. "I won't fight or struggle. I know it isn't as good as catchoo blood, but I offer it to you. When we get out, we can get you more. It's okay. You don't have to suffer." Still more slowly than ever, he reached out a hand and touched Draco's fine hair where it cascaded over his face. The vampire flinched as if Harry had shocked him, but Harry pressed on and laid his hand firmly against Draco's head. Gently, he petted the man.
With a sob, Draco leaned into Harry and clutched onto him.
"Harry, I'm so sorry. I thought I was stronger. I tried to be normal. I'm not. Just a filthy monster who wants your blood. I never wanted to betray you. I… I…"
"Draco. Stop," he said kindly. "You are not a monster. You are Draco Malfoy, my friend. Now, if you drink from me, will it kill me?"
"If I lose control…"
"You won't. If you just drink my blood, that won't kill or turn me, right?"
Draco looked up, eyes brimming and dull. "No. But it will hurt. And… I'm very hungry. I could lose it and not stop. What if I drank too much blood and did kill you? You've already lost so much blood. I can't risk that."
"'What ifs', we can't do much about those. I trust you. You won't drink too much. I offer you this…me. Please, take it."
Silence embraced the two men sitting taut, riddled with nerves. Harry watched Draco as the other man watched him and finally the vampire nodded. "Okay. I will. But just a little."
Harry nodded, nervous at the prospect. "Okay. What do I do?"
"Just lie back. Get comfortable or something," Draco suggested, twisting his hands in the edges of his borrowed robes.
"On these rocks?" Harry said with a strained chuckle. At the frightened look in Draco's eyes Harry opted for getting this over with as quickly as possible and he lay down.
The stones pierced Harry's back, pinching a nerve that ran down his leg, but its significance was completely inconsequential as Draco leaned towards him. Draco ran soft fingers along Harry's cheek and caressed his temple, touching him in a way that sent sparks all the way to his toes and Harry felt his blood pumping through his veins as if it knew what was about to happen to it.
"Harry, you sure?" Draco asked, his voice quavering.
Harry smiled up at him, trying to calm himself as well as Draco. "Yes, Draco. I want to do this." He nodded his head and then let it fall back, exposing his throat.
Draco's eyes widened at the sight and burned a more vivid shade of gray, if gray could ever be vivid, and Harry's heart caught in his chest. That look, there was something to that look and Harry realized he had seen in over and over in Draco's eyes and never quite recognized before what it meant.
Soft puffs of breath played across Harry's cheek and then his neck as Draco descended to his jugular. Bracing himself, ready for the pain, Harry jumped when he felt a warm tongue licking the juncture between shoulder and neck and the tickling caused a deep shiver to wrack his body and a low moan bubbled from his lips.
"Harry?" Draco said again, only this time there wasn't a note of concern, but an underlying tone of lust and desire and Harry's cock let its interest be known. Damn, this was making him too fucking hard. There was something completely off with that.
"Yes…" he said and felt the teeth bite deep.
Valiantly, he held in his yelp of pain, but really it was no worse than his aching leg. He felt Draco remove the fangs from his neck and then warm liquid spilled out and down his throat and shoulder like an artisan well, pumping with the pace of his racing heart. Then soft lips latched onto his neck and sucked until Harry moaned again. God! How could something as simple as sucking on his neck feel this good? Fuck! He couldn't get enough, he couldn't focus or think or anything. All he knew was that he never wanted it to stop and he writhed in the embrace that held him tight.
"Oh God. Fuck, that's… yes… yes. Draco. Don't stop. Oh, fuckingyes!"
He needed more. A buzzing electrified his body. He needed more, more of something… "Hmm, Draco… Please, more… please."
His addled brain couldn't think, could only focus on that pressure, the tightness on his throat and the responding tightness in his jeans.
He'd never been so hard in his entire life.
Something registered in the back of his brain as he continued to moan and beg and plead. The pressure on his cock disappeared but then it was replaced by a new pressure, an enveloping grip. "Yes, please! Draco, God… more." A slow glide of skin on skin. A sharp movement, pulling and kneading. A hard constriction sliding up and down his shaft, gaining a smooth rhythm.
Draco's hand reached the head, his wrist jerked with a quick twist and Harry's head fell back again, groaning, gasping for air. The suction on his neck was maddening. The fast, smooth slide created delirious ecstasy and he never wanted it to end.
A long string of curses and prayers erupted from him as he pushed his cock harderfastermore into Draco's hand one final time, arching his back like a bow strung taut.
Then suddenly all he was, all he would ever be, was scream and scream and scream as he came, shooting come all over Draco, his body wracked in convulsions as the best orgasm he had ever had ripped him apart from the inside out.
Finally, his worn body went limp, soft pants rippling through his chest, and as the seconds ticked past slow realization hit him. Draco no longer sucked at his neck and he'd just come all over his friend's hand.
"Oh my, God. How embarrassing. I'm so sorry."
Harry tucked himself back into his trousers, trying to avoid the sticky mess, and attempted to scramble away, avoiding Draco's eyes.
"Harry…"
Draco held him tight, not letting him go and Harry wished he could just fade away and they could forget this moment ever happened. Though honestly he never wanted to forget this and every night for the rest of his life a relief map of this event would haunt him in his dreams.
"God. How humiliating," Harry confessed to the stone floor.
"Why?" The amused tone caused Harry to look up. Draco looked like a new man. That feral look had completely vanished from his eyes and he glowed… he actually glowed! A goofy grin played along those lips and a small line of blood was smeared along his bottom lip and chin. "Don't be humiliated. That was…" His words halted and Draco's eyes searched the darkness behind Harry, a small furrow between his eyes.
After only a brief moment, he returned those eyes to Harry and smiled. Then with relief, Draco leaned forward and kissed him.
The shock of it arrested any protestation, not that he would have protested. The taste of blood was what first jerked Harry back into the present, along with Draco's soft and gentle lips. A low noise rumbled in the back of Draco's throat and his arms tightened around Harry. He kissed back, swiping his tongue along Draco's lips, requesting and receiving entrance. It was soft and tender and filled him with joy.
"Harry," Draco said, leaning his forehead against Harry's. "That was… fucking remarkable. The one event any vampire hopes for. You see," he chuckled, "normally I'd never have been satisfied off what I just drank from you. I didn't take much. But… I don't know, there's a connection and you… You're so amazing. God, I can't even talk. I've lost all coherency." He laughed again.
"And Merlin… hearing you moan like that. Harry… you don't know how long… how long I've wanted to do that, to hold you, kiss you, to be with you." This time Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco, and as the kisses grew in passion, Harry wondered why hadn't he thought to do this before? Why hadn't his best friend ever come to mind when he realized it was love he wanted, it was promise and relationship… and eternity.
Between soft moans and delighted sighs, Harry entwined his fingers through Draco's silky hair, kissing trails over his face and down his neck, marking him as his own. He had never experienced anything that felt so right.
Suddenly Harry pulled back and studied Draco, who seemed alarmed at the swift retreat of those warm lips. "What's wrong," he asked?
"You? What about you?" Harry said vaguely, then trailed his fingers down Draco's bare chest immediately making his intentions less and less vague as the slow progress of Harry's fingers finally greeted Draco's own hard cock.
The instant contact caused Draco to growl in want. Long fingers curled around Draco, gripping him with sure fierceness and tender grace. Slow, steady strokes had him clinging to Harry, whimpering and murmuring and professing promises and forever. And as Draco peaked and exploded, spilling white cream all over Harry's hand, he knew that even if he didn't have eternity, life would be perfect with Draco in his arms.
Spasms wracked his body as he came and came and came in Harry's arms, body trembling and heart ripped open. God, Merlin and all the spirits of the afterlife, fuck if he'd ever felt like that before. Ever. He didn't think it was humanly possibly to feel what he now felt. But then, he wasn't really human was he?
Sharp images of his mother and father wrapped together as his father drank from her popped into Draco's mind and now he understood. While feeding was better than sex… feeding and sex with someone you loved was something incomparable, untouchable by mere mortal standards. And while this happened so quickly and in the most unexpected circumstances, Harry and Draco's first time together had been special and Draco would cherish it, hoping and dreaming they had many more moments, days, years ahead of them.
"Thank you," he said inanely, not really sure what to do in the moment of sudden awkwardness.
Harry chuckled and squeezed him and all awkwardness dissolved away. "Thank you," he said and kissed Draco on the temple.
It was completely overwhelming and Draco didn't want to let go. He held tightly and buried his face into Harry's shoulder, letting the other man rock and pet him. Desperately he wanted to tell Harry how he felt, that he loved him and had for so very, very long. But even as his insecurity wanted Draco to stiffen and pull away, Harry's reassuring presence shielded him against his own inner enemy and slowly he drifted off to sleep.
Draco's eyes opened and he was still in Harry's arms. He purred in contentment even though he knew they had to get out of the cave. Without the ever nagging desire for blood, he could think over how he was going to get Harry and Charlie out into the fresh air of the open countryside once more.
"You awake?" came Harry's soft words. Complete darkness surrounded them and he flashed his eyes to see Harry's face.
His lover smiled up at him. "Yes," Draco offered, earning him a wide grin from Harry's amused face.
"We should get out of here," Draco said as he pulled himself off Harry, feeling sadly bereft without that warm hold. "How's your leg?"
He helped Harry stand and watched as he gingerly tested his leg and then shook his head in concern.
"I can't really walk on it. Do you think you could help me?" And just like that Draco found himself right where he wanted to be, with Harry's arm over his shoulder, hopping beside him hip to hip through the dark cavern.
When they had reached the corpse of the dragon, Harry asked to get close to it. Draco had no desire to close the distance with a rotting corpse, but did as Harry asked. Harry leaned against the giant form and murmured sad goodbyes to Pansy, slowly stroking her decaying flesh.
"Draco, did you ever find the egg?" he asked.
The egg! He hadn't even thought to look for it. So the two men searched the area for what Harry said would be an almost midnight blue egg, if it hadn't already hatched.
"Harry, I think I found it," and indeed he had. It was rather large, larger than it seemed in the photo Harry had sent, and it looked black in the dim light. However, the most promising thing was that it looked intact. It had no cracks spidering across the surface, not even a dent or dink. It remained whole even after all the trauma that had occurred around it.
"My God, it's okay. Pansy's egg is okay!" Harry whooped into the darkness, the sound echoing down the tunnels and empty corridors. As the excited cry bounced back towards the two men a sharp crack! came from the egg.
"Shite. Harry, I do believe you've broken it."
"It isn't broken, you berk. It's hatching. We gotta get it out of here, with Charlie, and a gimpy me. Can you do it?" Harry pleaded with him.
"Of course. I am Draco Malfoy, vampire extraordinaire with a bite that rocks your socks." He winked at Harry, who blushed deliciously and laughed at his corny joke.
With great care he lifted the egg and carried it awkwardly in his arms, while Harry leaned on his side, hobbling along while floating Charlie along with a mobilicorpus using his broken wand. It would have been funny if it wasn't all about life or death.
They scrambled over the rocks, stumbling and slipping in the dirty haze, racing like overburdened snails for fresh air and that sense of freedom both had been starved for over the past few days. Harry limped along, feeling slightly dizzy from the lack of blood and exertion, but he clutched Draco's arm even as he gripped his broken wand.
A few times the men had to get down on hands and knees to shimmy through the short passages, pushing the slowly cracking egg before them and hovering Charlie's prone body behind. The light of day beckoned them, entreating them to come and celebrate life, so easily lost. They finally escaped the tunnel and walked a few more paces until they reached the edge of a steep cliff, open to the vast river valley below. They stood on the precipice, Draco holding onto Harry, and the two men watched as the sky lightened with the day.
The colors danced in the morning, light reflecting off the dew and the deep reds and oranges of autumn in the Carpathian Mountains painted everything richly, like the world blazed on fire.
But the beauty of the morning still paled against that of the blond man standing beside him. The man who had come to save him, who had always been by his side, the man who had suddenly appeared before him like a miracle of Venus just as he'd almost slipped beyond the veil.
"It's beautiful," Draco murmured. He turned and smiled at Harry, his pale skin painted in those same pinks and reds, the shadows of the wind-tossed leaves dancing across his skin. Harry had never seen anybody look so alive.
"Yes, it is," he said and smiled; happy in a way he had never thought possible.