"Where the fuck…?" Draco started as he head down a long curving alleyway leading to a line of strangely shaped buildings, missing bricks and windows and signs, shimmering red lights glooming eerily where 'Open' signs once were on shops. It was a good twenty years after the second wizarding war, Draco Malfoy now a recently divorced thirty-seven year old with a teenage son who loathed him and an ex-wife that wrung him out of every knut he had to his name. And having now no house, floo powder, or even his dog Brutus (yes, Brutus was HIS dog, not Pansy's, thank you very much), he had taken it upon himself to pack up and vacation to Northern Alaska during the midwinter darkness. It was silent here, a calming silence as snow drifted around him, coating the ugly pavement and structures, making this town a sliver more appealing. If anyone was here they were hiding; there wasn't a silhouette in sight. Whilst Draco thinks this to himself, he finds that he's spoken a bit too soon and looks quickly at his shoulder when he feels someone grab him, seeing an ivory hand with three-inch long nails painted a deep maroon colour clutching him.
"Draco Malfoy. How it is strange seeing you here. This really isn't a rich man's town, little boy." Her voice is soft and alluring, every word hanging in the air around him like a fog. He whips around and shrugs her hand away, a sneer on his lips. What in the hell was Rita Skeeter doing here? By now she should be retired and possibly in a retirement home and old. She wasn't old; she looked younger than him. Her platinum curls shimmered, not a string out-of-place. She wore the same red lipstick, her eyelashes so long that they nearly touched her eyebrows, painted black to stress them. And her eyes- those icy blue eyes that had captured the world within hypnotized him. He felt a warmth begin to rise in his belly and to his throat, filling every part of his body from his finger tips to his toes. Merlin and Morgana she was stunning.
She catches this quickly, still a sly journalist at heart, and smirks to herself.
"Not going to step on my words, Draco?"
"Uh- err-" he shakes his head, breaking their gaze, "Why are you here? And why are you so- so-" he growls with frustration, this isn't happening, she shouldn't be making him feel this way. She smiles and he grimaces.
"Come, follow me. I'll make us tea." She says, taking his arm and leading him through the frosted streets, moving down tight alleyways and passing strange people who hissed and stared at Malfoy, making his blood freeze. Finally, she waves her hand over a pattern of bricks and they slowly fade to a black door. "Come." She pushes it open and pulls him in quickly before shutting it and locking it up tight. She mutters a few words and the fireplace comes alive, several cups and spoons and a tea kettle get to work. This place was incredibly small, everything in the same room, a single person bed, a television, a stove and a closet full of clothes and shoes. There was no bathroom, and when he asks, she laughs at him. And when she laughs, he sees two fangs.
"You have fangs… What are you? Why did you bring me here?" he asks, stepping away from her as he turned for the door. She grabs his arm and pulls him in, pulls him close to her, and she presses her nose and lips to his neck, inhaling sharply.
"Mmmm…" she moans, "You're healthy, very healthy… Your blood smells like sugar." She flicks her tongue out against his skin and he yanks away, a look of disgust on his face. "No no, Draco. Don't go back out there, they know you're here. I'm sure they're waiting right outside that door for you."
"What ARE YOU?" He demands, taking her by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall next to the door. She laughs at him again, cocking a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
"You're trying to intimidate me? You're only turning me on, Mr. Malfoy… I know why you came here. You're looking for the answer to immortality. You think it's going to be easy, cheap, and worthwhile. But it isn't," she licks her lips slowly, "It's painful and permanent, and you pay with your soul, you stupid man. I'm undead. I'm a vampire. Are you so daft to think there would be some magical potion up here, some silly little charm? Where my kind thrives in the eternal darkness?" she runs her fingers down the front of his charcoal gray jacket, pulling gently at the buttons.
"Go on, go back out there so they can tear you apart. I'm offering you sanction here."