Author: Wasted and Ready

Rating: M

Enjoy! Reviews very much appreciated.

Vere Imeja

Part One

Harry drifted through the dark, empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The edge of the Cloak lightly grazed the ground as he wandered into an abandoned wing of the castle. Being around anyone at this point was simply too dangerous.

Being in the Gryffindor Boys' dormitory with his friends at this time of the month was unbearable. Their heartbeats slowed with sleep, their blood pumping throughout their veins… Harry's mouth watered deliciously. He shook his head to rid the image of Dean's jugular vein pulsing in his throat, head thrown back in dreamland.

He settled down into a nook of a dark classroom, staring listlessly out the window on the opposite wall. The lake's surface rippled with the cold breeze, snowflakes had been falling softly for a few hours now. The dull, dry ache in his throat made him groan in frustration. He yearned for graduation, the freedom from being away from so much temptation. He would be able to search for a proper mate with a clear head then. He had two years to find a mate, which was plenty of time but still the date loomed in the back in his mind always.

Ron and Hermione did their best to be just out of reach during the last few days of each month when he was in his "heat" has Hermione embarrassingly liked to call it. No matter how much Hermione poured over texts and packed her mind full of facts on his condition, her and Ron could never understand agony he went through each month. The unbelievable desire for someone, anyone, to sink his teeth into. Not only to drink, but the Vere Imeja inside him also craved a companion.

He soothed himself with the mantra of soon, soon, soon… He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, getting a little sleepy despite his thirst. He would wait until dawn to return to the dorm. Things were easier during the day. His desire tended to multiply at nighttime. Then there it was. Faint at first, but definitely getting closer. A human heartbeat was walking in his direction; it would pass right by the door to his room.

Harry cursed his luck and buried his head in his arms, covering his ears with his hands to attempt to block out the beat. He stopped breathing in disbelief as the heartbeat slowed by his door and stopped right outside. He started cursing every deity he could think of, praying the heartbeat would continue on it's way if it knew what was good for it. The aroma of the blood was starting to seep under the door, and Harry repressed a moan of pure want. The door handle squeaked as it turned, and a wave of delicious fragrance wafted over him.

The person walked familiarly through the room, settling down on the ledge of the window. Moonlight illuminated his skin and set a soft glow to his hair. If Harry hadn't been so afraid of opening his mouth and actually tasting the boy's essence, his jaw would have been hanging open in inelegant disbelief. The heartbeat belonged to none other than Draco fucking Malfoy.

If Voldemort hadn't already been dead, Harry couldn't think of a person he would have less liked to see. Harry kept his fangs in his gums by sheer force of will. Unfortunately all his fangs, along with every other fiber of his being, wanted to do was walk swiftly over to Malfoy, throw him on the ground, and suck the living daylights out of his neck. He struggled to keep his human nature in control. He's a git! Remember he is the biggest prat to have ever walked to planet!

If he gave into temptation now, he would be dependent on Malfoy's kind nature to permit Harry to feed off his body for the rest of their natural born lives. Harry was not fond of those odds. Harry tried desperately to remind his body that Malfoy was an enemy, a schoolyard rival where countless fights, taunts and mean tricks had left deep feelings of hate in each boy. However, his body didn't care much about that and was instead focusing on how good it would feel to have the blond boy's blood sliding down his throat.

Oblivious to Harry's intense inner troubles naught 10 feet away; Malfoy was looking quite relaxed by the window. He had leaned forward to press his forehead to the cool glass and gaze at the large lake.

Harry counted to ten to try to clear his head. He needed to get out of here fast but the last thing he needed was to gain Malfoy's attention. He slowly and silently slid upwards against the wall. He painstakingly lifted one trainer-clad foot and then the other. Reaching his hand out to grab the Cloak that he had thrown on a desk on the way in, he carefully grabbed a fistful of the material.

Malfoy must have seen some movement reflected in the glass because he whipped around and yelled, "Who's there!"

"No need to shout, Malfoy, I'll just be on my way."

"Potter," Malfoy sneered, "What are you doing up so late past your bedtime? Nightmares of Mummy and Daddy got you troubled?"

Anger flared up inside Harry but it was slightly overshadowed by a surge of desire as Malfoy took a few steps closer and his scent wrapped around Harry like a warm blanket. It took all of Harry's strength to make towards the door.

"Not so fast, Potter, I'm just trying to have a chat," Malfoy spat nastily, standing in front of the doorway. Harry was trapped; he didn't want to get any closer to Malfoy than he already was. There was no way he could push past him without losing control.

"Get out of my way, Malfoy," he spat darkly, trying to look threatening from 7 feet away.

"I don't think so, Potter. My father is in prison because of you," the last part of his sentence had dropped to a dangerous whisper, "How could I pass up such a golden opportunity for revenge?"

The blond boy narrowed his eyes, taking a few more steps forward.

"Don't come any closer!" Harry yelled, becoming panicked. Something Malfoy picked up on if his feral grin was anything to go by. Harry felt his resolve crumbling, his thoughts were becoming jumbled, he was getting drunk off Malfoy's scent.

"Scared without your backup, Potter? The Great Harry Potter…my ass. You're nothing more than a little boy hiding behind a legend you did nothing to deserve," Malfoy hissed.

"I mean it, Malfoy. Stay away from me." Harry had tried to stay dark and threatening but his voice had taken on a slightly pleading tone.

"What are you going to do, Potter? You don't even have a wand," Malfoy smirked, moving to take another step closer.

"Malfoy, I swear you will regret this. Get away!" Harry yelled desperately.

Malfoy laughed darkly, "Somehow I doubt that," and on that note he launched himself at Harry.

Before Malfoy or even Harry really knew what happened, Harry had Malfoy pinned to the wall, holding his hands above his head. He leaned down, breathing in deep along the line of Malfoy's neck. He purred deep in his chest, a distinctly nonhuman sound. God, the blood rushing just below the surface of that skin was dizzying. It would be so easy to sink his teeth into that vein, the skin yielding like butter.

"Potter, get the fuck off of me," Malfoy whispered, his voice now quiet out of fear rather than anger.

"I told you to stay away," Harry choked, leaning back to look Malfoy in the eyes. He couldn't keep them in any longer; his fangs plunged down from his gums. The blond's eyes widened almost comically.

"What the fu-"

Draco's words cut off and turned into a gasp. Potter had just bit him. With fangs. The twin sharp stings made him squeeze his eyes shut. He couldn't even push Potter away. He felt frozen with absolute shock and disbelief. And then he gasped for another reason. Pleasure started coursing through his veins, originating at the bite then flowing through all his body. It was the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced. Some kind of beautiful venom was pouring into him from Potter. Despite how horrifying this thought was he wanted more, within seconds he was addicted. He clutched at Potter's shoulders and brought him closer. He stifled a moan as the pleasure seemed to increase with every passing second. God, he was getting hard.

What the fuck is going on, what the fuck is going on, what the fuck… oh god, yes. His hips were moving without his permission, he was bloody thrusting himself against Potter like some kind of wild animal but damn it felt good. He was completely out of his own control, intoxicated with pleasure.

Potter whimpered against his neck, greedily sucking bright crimson blood from him. Draco bit his lip, there was no way he was going to come because Harry fucking Potter was sucking blood from him like a creature from the Forbidden Forest. Draco knew he should stop this, stop Potter from sucking him dry, stop humping Potter's leg, stop moaning like a bitch in heat, stop...stop… oh god, he never wanted this to end.

He couldn't take it anymore, he came spectacularly, the hardest he ever had in his life. His bones went limp. The only thing keeping him upright was Potter's arms and legs keeping him caged in against the stone wall. He whimpered weakly, exhausted from his orgasm and weak from so much blood loss. Soft pleasure continued in his veins. If this was going to be his death, he couldn't even bring himself to be mad about it.

He distantly felt Potter softly pull his fangs from his neck and lick at the wound. He was so sleepy but his stubbornness still had some choice words for the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Potter…" His voice trailed off, one word seemed to be all his post-coital, blood- deprived brain could handle. He had planned to say, "Potter, what the fuck did you do to me and just so you know there is going to be some fucking hell to pay." But that would have to wait for another time.

"Shh, just go to sleep…"