Summary: Harry would stare at that pale throat, mesmerized. Admire the blue-ish veins that lay beneath the thin sheet of delicate flesh. Yearn for just one taste of the blood that seemed to sing to him, begging him to have a bite. HPDM slash. AU. Vampire!Harry.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. (Nor do I profit from this story) Everything Harry Potter belongs to J.K.Rowling.
A/N: Having never written this type of story before I think that people should be very gentle when it comes to giving me reviews. lol. I'm very delicate and my feelings get hurt easily. I'm lame, yes, I know.
Also I would like to make it clear that this story contains some original characters. It has recently come to my attention that some readers have a problem with such things. If you are one of those people I kindly ask you to refrain from reading this story.
For those of you who are still interested in continuing with reading on, you should know that this is a Harry/Draco fic and that their romance will be one of slow construction. Please be patient as I would like to develop a plot before I have them jump each other.
Warning: There are some scenes in this fic which contain explicit content. These scenes are appropriately marked. If you are underage, and reading this fic despite the rating, but are still squeamish, avoid these scenes (you can't miss them).
UnquenchableThirst
AUGUST.THIRD
-and.so.it.begins-
'You freak! You fix him! You fix him right now!' Petunia Dursley howled hysterically at her seventeen-year-old nephew Harry Potter. Harry, who was standing below what appeared to be a very bulky human illustrated balloon, could only stare helplessly.
'I can't… I … I don't know what I did!'
Petunia had a bony hand wrapped around a large ankle and was frantically trying to pull the balloon to the ground.
'Liar! You did this, now you set it right! Don't make me call Vernon!'
Harry visibly paled. God, not Uncle Vernon…
'Ok, ok!' Harry, too, was now falling into hysterics.
Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at his floating cousin, trying hard to remember some sort of spell that could set this right. He'd never been around to witness what had happened to Aunt Marge. All Harry knew was that the Ministry had been called in to take care of the problem, and that now Aunt Marge had no recollection of the events of that summer's night.
Petunia, who had been busy trying to haul her precious son, Dudley, to the ground now spared a glance at her freak of a nephew and was shocked to see him with his wand out and pointed directly at her beautiful Duddydums.
'What do you think your doing?!' she shrieked, momentarily forgetting about her son and lunging herself at Harry.
The weight of her body hit Harry before the raven-haired boy could even comprehend what had happened.
He was thrown forcefully into the coffee table, his head hitting the corner with a loud smacking noise.
Petunia stared at her nephew in shock.
He lay on the ground at her feet, his head in a pool of his own blood and his eyes shut in unconsciousness.
What had she done?
Vernon Dursley considered himself a man of great generosity.
He and his wife had shown their good-for-nothing nephew nothing but charity and kindness. Allowing him into their home, putting clothes on his back, and feeding his ungrateful little arse for sixteen years, and this was the thanks they got?
Vernon stared at his son (a fantastic boy that Potter could have learned a great deal from) floating, pressed up against the living room ceiling, and felt rage like he had never known bubble in his chest.
Just who did that insolent boy think he was, thinking he could just prance around his relatives' house and proudly display what a freak he was?
Well, this was it. Let the rest of the freaks come, Vernon would no longer endure this embarrassment.
The boy would have to go.
'Think of what you're doing, Vernon! He's unconscious, he could die!' Petunia shrieked in horror. 'Just imagine what the neighbors will say!'
Vernon, who was carrying a skinny, limp body in his arms, did not falter in his angry strides.
'No more, Petunia, no more,' was all he said.
She stumbled down the road weakly, swaying left and then right in her deranged state. Her eyes, normally honey brown, were glowing a violent white with hunger. She'd been searching for weeks for her clan, and even longer for something to quench her thirst, but with each passing moon she became frailer and frailer, her lithe body refusing to function without a meal.
She was hungry. So, so hungry.
A flash of lights in the distance caught her eye. Someone was coming.
When Harry started to gain consciousness it took him a few minutes to realize where he was.
Why in the world was he in Uncle Vernon's car? Where were they going?
'Uncle V-'
'Shut up, freak!' Uncle Vernon bellowed, sparing a quick and angry glance at his trembling nephew in the passenger's seat.
Harry shut his mouth abruptly but could not stop the questions from flowing through his head.
Why did his head hurt? What happened? Why was Uncle Vernon in such a tizzy? And again, why did his head hurt?
Harry raised a hand to his head and gingerly touched it. Pain seared in his brain so intensely that Harry found it hard to think. Hard to breath, too… and passed out once more.
It was in the air. The scent of blood was everywhere. Her mouth watered.
She watched in anticipation as a bulky man stepped out of the car and rushed around to the passenger's side. Hurriedly opening the door, the human pulled out what appeared to be a large doll, but she knew better.
The smell was so tantalizing, mesmerizing, and teased her senses mercilessly, that she knew it couldn't be anything else but a human.
She licked her dry lips with enthusiasm.
The massive human situated the small bundle, none too gently, in the ditch before scurrying back to the car.
What was this, then? Certainly not a murder… She could still hear the faint sound of a weak heart beating. It was unquestionably odd but she wasted no more time thinking on it.
Dinner had arrived.
As soon as the car had disappeared back the way it had come she bolted as fast as her weakened state would allow to the body.
Moonlight shone down into the ditch, casting an odd light across the body of what appeared to be a boy.
She couldn't help but falter in her steps.
Surely it would be a sin to kill something so beautiful, so absolutely breathtaking.
Dark lashes rested against creamy white cheekbones, petal-pink lips pouting in the boy's slumber. Pitch-black hair caressed closed eyelids.
Yes, most definitely a sin.
But her thirst could not be denied; she had to feed.
She knelt lightly in front of the dark haired child and touched the cheek sadly.
Such a waste…
Of course... there was another option.
Today she would be the cause of this boy's death but tomorrow... tomorrow this beauty could be reborn.
Reborn into one of the most fascinatingly dangerous creatures ever known to roam this planet.
And in a way, he would live.
Her wandering hand gently slipped from the boy's cheek to his neck, and a slim finger outlined the bluish trail of a vein. She could put it off no longer. Bowing her head she mouthed the boy's neck, searching for just the right place.
There. Right there. Her teeth extended and she dug them into the soft flesh below, hungrily sucking out what her body craved.
In the back of her bloodthirsty mind she registered the taste of the blood was a little off, but in the best possible way. Never before had she tasted such sweet blood. Why was this one different?
She couldn't determine it right then as the bloodlust took over.
She understood why he was screaming. Right now he was experiencing a pain so intense that it was impossible not to. He was feeling her venom as it fought against his immune system. But alas, it would not prevail. In a few short hours this boy would become like her. While it might be hurting him now, he would be thanking her for it later.
Tomorrow, when she was again at full strength, they would begin their journey back to her clan. There this boy would learn the way of a vampire.
Harry did not have to open his eyes to know that he was being watched. The hair sticking up on the back of his neck was a clear indication that he was not alone. Was it Uncle Vernon? Harry was too afraid to open his eyes and find out.
'So you've finally awaken, have you?' a smooth voice called out from somewhere above.
Harry's eyes popped open in surprise only to be met by the sight of dirt and pine needles. Where was he?
And then boots, seemingly coming from nowhere at all, were placed in his vision.
Following the boots up long legs covered in black tights, up higher to a violet turtle-necked sweater, and even higher up to meet the face of the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.
Not even Fleur Delacour could compare to this girl's beauty. Long brunette curls fell in soft waves around an angelic face. Full pink lips stretched over unbelievably white teeth in a dazzling smile, and her golden brown eyes shone with mirth.
Stumbling to his feet in a hurry Harry was struck with the absurd urge to bow and immediately after doing so he flushed.
The girl did not seem to mind, however; instead her grin grew wider.
'I am Coral Trel of the Bellowin clan. And you are?'
Bellowin clan?
'Harry, just Harry' he answered hesitantly, deciding at the last moment that it was better if he did not state his last name.
He had no reason to trust this 'Coral Trel' with any knowledge of himself. She was a stranger and for all Harry knew she could be in the same league as Voldemort.
She must be a witch, Harry thought. There was always the chance that she was some kind of Muggle hippie of sorts, but she dressed much to well for that.
Why would she be out... wherever they were? Trees surrounded them making the area dark and cool but Harry could pick up the sound of passing cars in the distance.
'Well "just Harry", I must thank you for saving my life,' said the brunette angel, tossing her hair over her shoulder casually.
Harry stared.
'What?' he asked, bewildered.
'Have you never heard of a thank you?' she teased, flashing her white teeth in a charming smile.
Harry sputtered. 'Of course, but... what do you mean? How did I...? Where are we?'
Coral laughed, and Harry swooned. The sound was like a melody echoing through the trees, so musical that Harry imagined the birds were jealous.
'Are you hungry?'
Harry hadn't been thinking on it, his mind too warped with the strange predicament that he had found himself in, but now that he thought about it he realized that yes, he was hungry. Though he wasn't sure hungry described what he was feeling. Ravenous was more like it.
Taking his silence as a yes she swung a dark sack over her shoulder and started to move swiftly through the trees.
Harry continued to stand where he was in confusion.
'Aren't you coming?' she shouted back to him without slowing her pace.
Harry had no time to think on it. He took off after her intending to catch up, and to his surprise it took him less than a minute before he was running along side her. He hadn't even broken a sweat.
Soon Harry realized the trees and meadows were all turning into one big blur of browns and greens. How was it possible for them to be running this fast?
Harry spared a glance at Coral. Her curls were billowing in the wind behind her and a wide grin lit up her entire face. She didn't seem bothered at all.
Maybe this was magic? Maybe she really was a witch?
But then that didn't make any sense for himself. Harry didn't have his wand, and there was no way his moving this fast could be possible. Wizard or not, traveling at this speed was beyond reason.
Harry didn't know how long they'd been running - it seemed like minutes - but it must have been much longer because suddenly Coral stopped, and Harry ran into her with enough force to knock her down. But she didn't fall and neither did he. She hadn't even stumbled.
I'm dreaming! Harry thought suddenly. It was the only way any of this made sense, and it put his overworked mind to rest. He would go along with this until Dudley or Uncle Vernon banged on his… And then the memories came back.
Dudley floating around on the ceiling like a giant balloon. Aunt Petunia throwing herself onto him and his head hitting the table. Pain. Uncle Vernon and the mysterious car ride.
Harry's mouth dropped open. 'They left me for dead!"
It was such a surprising thought. His relatives had left him in the middle of no-where, bleeding and unconscious.
He knew that they disliked him, but had their hate grown that much?
Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by Corals silky voice.
'We're here,' she murmured.
Harry peeked over her shoulder and gasped.
They were in Little Whinging's main park.
'Here, put this on." Coral handed Harry a long, thick black cloak out of her pack and then pulled one out for herself.
'Why do we need these?' Harry asked throwing the garment over his shoulders.
Coral's eyes flashed. 'Never you mind, hood up.'
The raven-haired youth brought his hood up instantly, barely realizing he'd done it.
Coral nodded her head in approval.
'You listen well, Harry' she said before venturing out from the safety of the trees and onto the sunny sidewalk of the small park.
Harry followed feeling out of place in his bulky article of clothing. He could feel people staring and blushed in embarrassment. Why was he allowing this stranger to order him around? It was complete rubbish.
He'd barely reached a hand up to unfasten the cloak before Coral spoke.
"I wouldn't," she said simply.
The brunette goddess had stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Harry.
Her golden eyes were flashing in anger from underneath her hood and Harry took a few steps back.
'I...'
'Trust me: you'd be making a deadly mistake. Keep it on.'
Harry scowled but dropped his hand.
She just had a tone; he couldn't help but listen.
'You live around here, don't you, Harry?'
'Yes,' Harry answered, surprised. How had she known?
'I figured as much. We shall collect your things while we wait for nightfall. Can you find your way from here?'
Could Harry find his way from here? It was a laughable question.
Harry could find his way back to the Dursleys' blind folded. He'd been to this park on so many different occasions it was hard not to.
But why did he need to collect his things?
'Yes, but why d-'
'Hush now, Harry. All will be discussed in due time, but now we must get you packed. Lead the way.'
'P-potter?' Vernon stuttered stupidly when he opened the door and found his nephew upon the step.
Harry smirked. 'Hello, Uncle.'
And Vernon continued to stare. Was this really the same boy he'd left on the side of the road the night before?
The teen was easily a good three inches taller than him, and even though he was covered in a cloak, Vernon could tell that the boy's body had filled out a bit. Okay, make that a lot.
Harry grinned at his uncle's inability to speak, showing off a gleaming set of straight, pearly white teeth.
He assumed that his uncle's shock was simply from seeing that Harry had survived the night, little did he know that that was the last thought on his uncle's mind.
'Aren't you going to invite me in? We wouldn't want the neighbors to stare.'
A scowl quickly replaced the shock on Vernon's face. How dare the brat speak to him in such a manner!
The burly mans hand shot out quickly, grabbing Harry's ear and pulling roughly.
Harry didn't budge.
Vernon stared in horror.
'What have you done, you freak!?' he yelped, jumping back from the teen as if he were carrying a deadly virus.
Confused, Harry said nothing.
Was his uncle sick?
Harry had felt the rough tug to his ear. Had felt the pudgy and slightly moist hand grasp the thin layer of cartilage and pull, and yet he was still standing here. He hadn't moved an inch. Something was definitely wrong. Never before had his uncle had trouble manhandling him. Why should today be any different?
Just then a soft clearing of the throat could be heard.
Vernon peered over his nephew's shoulder still shaken by the boy's strange presence. His jaw dropped, for behind Potter stood the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes traveled from the dark lashed eyes, to the curvy body, and continued down the long well shaped hips and legs.
"Close your mouth, uncle, we'd hate for something unpleasant to find its way in there."
Vernon's mouth snapped shut. But he never took his eyes of the luscious young woman.
Coral had never been more repulsed by a human being in her entire lifetime.
This human had absolutely nothing attractive about him what-so-ever.
Hiding her disgust well, she graced the blimp with a beatific smile.
'Hello. You have a charming home here. May we come in?'
The man nodded dumbly. 'My house in?' he asked stupidly.
Coral took that as a yes and followed Harry in.
Ah, that's much better she thought, relishing in the refreshing cool that met her when she stepped into the house.
Lowering the hood to her cloak she shook her hair out in a way she knew would entice the man before her.
"Now Mr...?'
The man pointed to himself in surprise as if to say 'me?'
Coral nodded her head encouragingly.
'I'm...' the whale glanced around himself, seemingly searching for something that would help him clarify his name.
"Vernon Dursley" Harry supplied hiding a smile of amusement.
'Yes, that's it.'
Coral gave a quick cough to hide her snigger.
"Yes, well then, Mr. Dursley, I am quite aware that this is short notice, but I will be taking Harry for the remainder of the summer.'
Vernon seemed to shake out of his stupor, rage and recognition flashing in his eyes, until Coral darted a tongue out to moisten her bottom lip, being sure to take her time with the activity.
The vampire could barely contain her distaste as the overweight mans eyes darted to her glistening mouth, a look of absolute lust on his face.
'Mmmm. Summer boy. Right.'
"Ah, I knew you would understand. Well then, Harry, what are you waiting for? Gather your things."
'I think it's time I got some answers,' Harry demanded as they exited the house of Number Four Privet Drive, hastily.
Coral spared the agitated boy a sideways glance. 'Why, whatever do you mean, Harry?'
Harry glared moodily from inside his hood. 'I think you know exactly what I mean Coral Trel of the Bellowin clan.'
The Gryffindor was done with the mind games. He wanted to know what was going on and he wanted to know now. Why hadn't uncle Vernon murdered him on the spot? What was it about this mysterious young woman that his uncle felt was so captivating and that he felt was so intimidating? Her entire presence commanded his attention, his very being felt that it's only existence was to obey her, please her.
'Let's have a chat about my history another time, yes? Look, night is falling, didn't you say that you were hungry a few hours prior? Breathe, Harry.'
Harry wanted to say that no; no, he wasn't ruddy well hungry, not unless it was for information, but just then everything she said registered in his brain. Breathe? Had he been holding his breath the entire time? He opened his mouth and gulped in a lungful of fresh air, and he did it again, and again, and- what was that heavenly smell?
There was a noise from across the street and Harry's head whipped towards it without a thought.
There on the other side of the road stood Dudley's friend Piers.
And he looked absolutely appetizing.
Harry saw nothing but red as he darted across the street and pounced on the unsuspecting teen.
"What the- Potter! Get off me!' the boy demanded as he was knocked to street forcefully.
Piers pushed against Potter's chest in an attempt to throw the other boy off but failed miserably.
'Potter, I said get- AHHHHHHHHHHH!'
Coral was sure that everyone for the next fifty blocks heard the young boy's cry of terror. She knew that the sight before his eyes must be incredibly surreal. Harry would be leaning over his young, well nourished body, eyes glowing a harsh white with hunger, fangs bared with the purpose of piercing soft flesh, with the intention of drawing the delicious wine that lay beneath. And she would let him.
It was time to feed; she could explain later.
Another A/N: This story is dedicated to three very lovely ladies, Coral, Aimee, and Caylah. I really hope you guys enjoy this fanfiction, the whole thing was put together with you three in mind. I have poured all my knowledge of writing into this and have done a lot of research. Caylah should be proud! lol.
Also I know that this chapter is a tad bit confusing. The second chap will spare more time for explanations and good things like that.
Constructive criticism and such is more than welcome. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing so your honest opinions are taken into consideration.
Virtual hugs to everyone who reviews. -hugs-
-Ashleybrooke
Totally understand that the whole Vernon Dursley, drooling thing is disgusting. Just go with it. ;)