This is the third and final installment of the Dark Blood trilogy. Very important, for this will make very little sense if you don't read the first two. Dark Blood and Dark Pride. This one is a little longer and darker then the others, and possibly sadder, despite the name.
And this one is a bit different in the content. A rather scary and twisty plot.
Dark Joy
By PikaCheeka
The incident at Christmas slowly faded away. Nobody remembered it, except my Father and I, and it wasn't as if we would ever tell anyone. It wasn't exactly a pleasant memory. The best part about it was the horrified expression on Hermione's face when I attacked her. It would most likely remain in my mind forever.
It is now nearing spring holidays. I am looking forward to them for several reasons. First of all, I want to get away from school and work for a while. Second of all, my father said he would teach me more of my powers, possibly even transformation. After that, I would probably be an animagi, unregistered. Everybody is these days. Too many laws if people know you can transform.
Suddenly Prof. Macgonagall smacked her desk with her wand. I jerked out of my daze and glowered at her.
"Don't look at me that way Mr. Malfoy. It was your fault for daydreaming!" she snapped.
I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it again. The last thing I wanted was extra homework over vacation.
"Class is dismissed..." she sighed, falling backward into her chair. "See you all next week. Don't forget your reports!" She said it rather bored-like, as if she was sick saying that. She probably was, we were the last class before school got out.
The moment I entered the hall, I was flooded by a bunch of first years, chattering away about how little homework they had. I knocked a few down on the way to the Slytherin common room. What did I care?
I dropped my book into the already full trunk and shoved a roll of parchment in after it. I sighed and slammed it shut, using a bit of magic to make it click shut. Then I dragged it over to the stairs and shoved it down.
"Watch it Draco!" Pansy cried as it just missed her.
I laughed. "You watch it." Then I jumped down the stairs and landed right next to her. I accidentally stepped on her foot. I guess she took this as the wrong sign. "O Draco! You can just kiss me! It's easier then stepping on my foot. And it hurts less."
I was very tempted to tell her that a kiss from me probably hurt a heck of a lot more because of my fangs. But seeing as it was a family secret, I smirked and figured she could deal with that when the time came.
"Well?" she demanded.
"What?" I jerked out of my daze. My second one in barely an hour.
"Aren't you going to kiss me?" she stamped her foot, pulling it out from under mine and looking impatient.
"I dunno, am I?" I tried to push past her. She smirked again and suddenly grabbed me around the waist. I yelled and tried to twist away, but she landed on top of me in the landing. "Ow..." I muttered, pulling away.
"Hmph, you are totally stupid." She snorted. I wondered how totally and stupid fit. It just didn't click like most dumb things she said.
I smirked and raised my chin in an arrogant style.
She then blushed furiously and ran off to the girl's dorm.
I shrugged, glad to be away from her and everyone, for that matter. Was there a problem with being anti social?
A half an hour later, I was on the train on the way back to Kings Cross station. It was a long and boring ride. A few hours with nobody to talk to and nothing to do but homework.
I couldn't wait to get off and away from the heat and noise.
We pulled into the station with a creaking sigh. My father was waiting there, as usual, twirling his wand and looking very grouchy. He's both anti-social and claustrophobic, so train stations give him the creeps.
I jumped off and waited for somebody else to get my trunk. There was no point in me getting it myself. Besides, Father told the school that anyone who made me carry my own junk was going to get it from him. Sometimes being sick throughout the first six years of life is a good thing.
"How was school?" he asked carefully, glaring at Cho and her family in front of us.
"It was all right..." I started to say.
"Let's go, before they walk right up and try to talk to us..." he nodded toward the Changs. I shrugged, knowing they were a pureblood family.
After a minute of walking, he muttered "Accio trunk..." and pointed to the train.
The house had a strange atmosphere to it when I entered it. I was unable to help myself. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He shrugged, avoiding answering me.
I sighed and headed off to my room, wondering if he was still going to teach me how to change. Whatever was on his mind seemed to be very dominant right now, and who knew how long it would be. My father is well known for his tendency to sulk over things for years. I had this funny feeling that if anything really did go wrong, he'd have the mirror say "Avada Kedavra"
I shuddered, realizing the sickening truth within the thought. It wouldn't happen, besides, what could really go wrong?
"Draco?..." It was my mother. I sighed and turned toward her voice, wondering if I should go or pretend I didn't hear her. I wasn't really in the mood for talking about my school. It was Father's fault, of course, but everyone says that we are connected through the mind, we are so much alike. I never believed that, but who knows?
"What?" I called loudly
"Come here..." I shrugged and headed down the stairs.
She was standing at the bottom with a large bag full of expensive clothes, as she does nearly every week. "Try these on..." She smirked.
"It's a cloak!" I cried. "You know I can't get those on!"
"It's a kid one...the shoulders should fit and you should be able to tie it..."
I scowled, wanting to tell her I could tie all of them, they were always too big. I guess she noticed the scowl, because she smiled and grabbed my arm. I yelped and tried to twist away, but she dragged me off to her room. "I'll tie it them, my gosh..." she grumbled.
I wanted to scream, she was so strange sometimes. My father was leaning against the doorway, drinking the so-called ' red wine' and looking a lot less worse for the wear. Maybe he just needed that. I glanced up at my mother, who gave him an odd look. "I thought you were allergic to alcohol..." That was true. Wheenever he had even the smallest amount, he collapses and his breathing gets really faint. His heart starts going super fast and he writhes. It's very scary to watch.
"I am, this doesn't have any..." he smirked in my direction. We were the only two who knew that is was truly blood...
I realized with s start that that very may well be the reason as to why he was so grouchy earlier. He's gotten into the habit of drinking it everyday. Maybe he lost it yesterday...
"There...how does it look?" Mother shoved me in front of the mirror. I had spaced out, and hadn't noticed that she had been putting the cloak on me.
"Fine..." I muttered. I did like it though. It was black leather or dragon's hide, I couldn't tell in this light. And the inside was deep green with a silver sheen. It must have been very expensive. I smiled and turned away. Mother was satisfied, because she apparated somewhere.
"Draco?" I whirled around. Father was standing right behind me. He had come up so fast.
"Yea?" I asked, wondering if he was going to teach mw how to change now.
"Follow me. I am going to teach you how to become a dragon, if you can become one."
My stomach lurched with fear and excitement and I nearly fell over. He gave me a quizzical look and turned on his heel, walking from the room at a fast pace. I obediently followed, wondering just how hard it would be.
The living room was empty, big surprise there. Our house elves always avoided us. My father took his official chair and motioned me to a different one that I had rarely sat in before. In fact, this is considered his living room, seeing as the house has six, so I was almost never even in it.
"Now, it is very simple if you are born with the gift. All Malfoys are gifted with it so no need to worry. You should master it within the hour..." he nodded toward the clock behind him, so black it blended right into the wall, the white numbers illuminated by the fire's glow. He leaned forward. Now, what you must do is simply concentrate on yourself, let a creature take form in our mind..."
I shuddered and closed my eyes.
"NO!" he suddenly cried. "Don't close your eyes you idiot!"
"Why?" I gasped, opening my eyes.
"You'll get into the habit of it. And it will kill you someday. In a duel, people won't stop if you close your eyes."
I sighed and tried again, this time focusing on the fire. I could feel his eyes slicing through me. It was making me nervous. I concentrated on myself as hard as I could. But what, my physical or mental self? Mental, that made more sense. Hard, evil...no, I wasn't really. I was, but I wasn't. Part of me was. Angry and kind of sad most of the time, reason unknown. But not depressed, no, never depressed. Happy when getting revenge or hurting somebody. Really? That was unstable...Lonely? I couldn't tell. Yes, I was lonely much of the time. But not really for a friend, for something more...Power? That, too, was unstable. I was hateful of love or lust of any kind. Better to hate, safer. That was what my father taught me. Nobody could take hatred away from you. It was bury-able. Yes, I had hate that I could hide. Hide it beneath sarcasm. Slight fear of my powers... Eruptive, hateful of all who insult me or my family. Vengeful, explosive... Dragon! Fire-breathing...with fangs. White and black, red eyes. Red webbed wings, red nostrils. Anger, hatred, killing fear...a fanged dragon. Draco...black, fading...
"Draco!"
I opened my eyes, wondering which body I was in. To my horror, I was on the floor, curled up.
"What happened?" Father stood over me. "You got lost doing that???"
"Did I change?" I asked, ignoring that statement. Too scary to deal with now, now that I had discovered myself.
He sighed, looking very scared. "No, you were unable to..."
"How long was I there?"
"Forty-seven minutes..." he said shakily.
"Why?" I gasped, struggling to sit up, but I was unable to. The ordeal had nearly killed me, I could tell.
"I don't know...something's not right about you."
I winced, wishing I hadn't heard that. I glared up at him, and I noticed that beneath the fear etched on his pale face, stood something for more prominent. Disappointment.
"OK, I think you better go to bed. We can try again tomorrow..."
"No! Let me try again!" I cried.
"One more time right away could kill you." He hissed, his eyes narrowing.
I sighed and obeyed.
I lay awake in bed for a time, wondering if he was really as upset about it as he seemed. He probably was. I mean, I was so pathetic I was unable to do what every Malfoy had done for centuries.
I sighed, wishing I could change. It would make me happier. But it would also make him happy. And make him proud of me, I knew that he wasn't. I could tell by his face. I always made him upset, no matter what I did...
I sat up, an idea suddenly forming in my mind.
When I got lost in my powers, my real strength comes out. Maybe if I got lost within them, I could change. I stood up, trying to remember exactly what I had to do to get lost. I had to taste blood....
I glanced around, there were no House Elves. I scowled, realizing what that meant. I had to use my own blood. Cutting into myself and tasting my own blood didn't occur to me as it being any worse then drinking it from someone else. So what did it matter? And I did have a dagger.
Ten minutes later, I was kneeling on the floor, starring at the cut on the topside of my wrist. I wasn't about to really hurt myself.
Would it work with my blood? I suddenly panicked, wondering if something could go wrong.
Too late. The bloodlust took over.
Lucius
I woke up feeling something was wrong. My room, painted eternal black everywhere, reflected the wrongness and unbalance and bounced it around inside my mind.
I dimly remembered how guilty Draco looked when I told him something was wrong with the way he changed. I realized after he had gone off to his room that I had probably hurt him deeply. But then it was too late, I was mad at both him and myself.
Mad at him because he couldn't change.
Mad at myself because I was mad at him. Basically feeling hatred for myself. I always seemed to hurt him, and I don't know how to stop.
Not two minutes later, I was in my complete robes and going down the hall. Something was wrong within the manor.
Draco's room was empty.
Everything was the same as before, except for his dagger lying on the floor. I slid over and picked it up, shuddering when I saw his blood on it. The thought that he had killed himself went through my mind, echoing, getting louder. No, he wouldn't kill himself just because of that, or would he? I couldn't be sure. I had never really gotten to know my son as well as I should have. And now it was too late...
"DRACO......." I suddenly roared, unable to take the thought of his possible death any longer. With a rush of anger, I walked up to the window and smashed it with my fist. To my horror, it was open.
"Damn brat..." I muttered, anger reigning again.
I turned swiftly into the large bat I am able to become and flew out into the sky.
I searched for a few hours, finding nothing. I had begun to think that Draco had purposely lost himself to change, and had succeeded. But if I couldn't find him, he would be lost forever. For if he stayed like this for too long, he would stay. And who knows how long he had been?
The sun was beginning to show and I knew I had to return. Any minute, somebody would look outside and see a bat. Some stupid muggle would probably shoot me, thinking I was rapid flying in daylight. And that would be the end of Draco and I at the same time.
The weight on my shoulders doubled.
The manor was empty, surprise there. Narcissa off shopping, most likely. I had not found Draco. Time was running short. That left me with one option left.
Go to Voldemort.
He wasn't the person I wanted to see at a time like this, or ever for that matter. But he was the only one who just could have the power to save him.
I hesitated a split second, wondering if it was worth it. but a small thin pale figure formed in my mind, pleading. I hesitated no longer. I pressed the Dark mark on my arm as hard as I could with my own dagger.
Drawing blood, summoning Voldemort.
The door blew open and I self-consciously fell to my knees, covering my face with the uninjured arm and pulling out my wand with the other.
Pure darkness flooded my mind, covering all kind thoughts I had felt since my last visit with Voldemort. It nearly killed the image of Draco in my mind, but I fought it back, knowing that I was most likely never to see him again.
"Ah, Lucius." Voldemort purred softly, stroking his wand as if it were alive. There is a rumor that it is alive, actually. I wouldn't doubt that for a second, I've seen how it leaps into his hand when he needs it without being called, and seems to do spells a second before the last syllable leaves his mouth.
I stood up quickly, not wanting him to see me cowering on the floor, even though I knew it was too late.
"Whatever is the matter? Where is your son?" he grinned, showing his pointed teeth and fangs. Not the fangs of a vampire, however, the fangs of a snake.
"That is why I have called you. As you know, my son learned that we are part vampire last summer. I was teaching him to transform the night before. But he has the tendency to get lost in his powers..."
Voldemort laughed quietly, his pointed tongue darting in and out. I shuddered, wondering if he was as poisonous as his words and laughter seemed.
"He was unable to transform." I said quickly, taking a sharp intake of breath. "Now he is gone, I fear he has lost himself to transform, to impress me, and now he is gone."
"You want me to find him, I presume?"
I nodded, afraid to speak.
"Yes, I believe I may. I do not want a future follower of mine to die, would I?" he said. I noted the sarcasm in his voice, subtle, yet still there.
"You know how smart he is." I snapped unable to control myself.
"I do know. An IQ of one hundred and twenty four. If only he knew how to use it."
I scowled inwardly. He was right, he didn't know how to use it. And he was ten below mine. If he lived, I would teach him. Somehow. I would do anything for him at this point.
Voldemort suddenly narrowed his eyes. "He is near..." he muttered.
I jumped, realizing that he had been searching the area within his mind without my knowing.
"Come on..." he hissed, apparating. I followed.
The air was tense where we landed. A small clearing in a large forest. Off to the side was a much larger clearing. The air was full of intense pain. I couldn't make it out.
"Powerful magic." Voldemort said quietly. "Your son is dangerous. To himself and the world. He is suffering badly, he wants to die. He knows he failed you." He looked at me with a flicker of something in his eyes. Sympathy? I gasped, wondering if I was right, daring myself to believe it. But it was covered a second later with a malevolent glint.
"You know how to put something out of misery, correct?" he smiled.
"Kill them..." I whispered, dropping my head.
"What?"
I knew he heard me, but I screamed it anyway. "KILL THEM! YOU WANT ME TO KILL HIM!"
He sighed.
By now I was in a rage. "You want me to kill my own damn son, my only son. Just so he's not a danger to you. The Malfoy line will die, Draco will die, and I will too!"
"Why would you?"
"Because he's bloody part of me!" I roared.
Voldemort winced visibly. "My, my, I always hated my father."
"Yes, you killed him..." I narrowed my eyes.
"As you did to yours."
"Yes." I said tightly, wishing me would stop.
"Alas, you cried though, did you not?"
"Yes."
"And why?'
"Because....." I stopped, why did I? He had beaten me, spent half his life drunk, and killed my mother. I sighed.
"Then why does it matter that you kill Draco? They are the same."
No they aren't, I silently screamed. Instead, I bit my lip until my fang pierced through. It hurt badly, but I dug deeper, figuring if my mouth was glued together with blood, I wouldn't feel any more pain.
"Well, are you going to kill him?"
I didn't answer.
"I'll show him to you if you agree. Otherwise, I'll keep you here until he dies."
"So he dies either way." I snapped.
"Yes, but would you like him to die in his father's arms? Or die alone in pain and misery?"
"I want to kill him..." I finally choked out.
Silence followed. Ever so loud.
"You are lying Lucius." Voldemort spat.
"I am. I do not want to kill him. But if he is going to die alone or at my feet, I want to have him die at my feet, under my own hand." I shivered uncontrollably. I could feel a tear starring. I hadn't cried since I was sixteen, when I had killed my own father.
"Come along then." He sighed.
I followed.
He showed me the large clearing. There was a large ravine in the center. He led me down. I was moving mechanically, knowing that if I thought about what I was doing, my body would stop and Voldemort would kill me, then he'd watch Draco die.
I froze the second I saw him. It was far worse then anything I could ever imagine.
Draco was lying on the ground, flat out on his back, as flat as the rocky ground could allow. One knee was bent upward and his arms were out. Bother his wrists were slit and bleeding everywhere. His head was back and blood was dripping from his mouth. I was surprised he was breathing, but he was, faintly. And in quick sharp gasps, seeing as part of his throat was cut. I didn't know how he did that, and didn't really want to know.
All I did know was that he was killing himself, drinking his own blood until he died. His bloodlust was too strong.
"Well..." Voldemort purred, glaring at me with his snake eyes. "It looks like we might be to late as it is."
"What?" I whispered, dropping to my knees, overtaken by the sight of Draco. I knew the truth, he was dying. Better to kill him now...
"Kill him."
"I..."
"Kill him."
I raised my wand weakly, turned my head away, and muttered the fatal words. "Avada Kadevra..." Then blackness closed in.
I came too to find Voldemort kicking at me. I snarled at him and jumped to my feet, only to collapse again.
"You killed the dragon." He said blankly, a glazed look in his eyes.
"So he's dead." I whispered, remembering Draco. My only son. Tiny, sickened at birth. Overcame death thirteen times, only to die to me. I raised my wand to myself, muttering under my breath.
"What the hell are you doing Lucius?" Voldemort snapped.
I ignored him, knowing he would kill me if I wasn't quick.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the best part of my life. It was when Draco was born. Yes, that was the only good part in my life. My damned life. Killing my father? That was hell, as was my whole childhood. I loved Narcissa, she hated me. Screw the marriage. Only Draco.
Who was now dead.
What else was to live for?
"Avada...Kedavr......." I shouted.
Something hit me flat out in the chest and I knew no more.
Draco
"Is he dead?" I gasped, starring at the still from of my father lying on the ground in a crumpled heap before me.
"I don't know. Did he finish Kedavra?" Voldemort asked slowly, starring at me as if I was back from the dead.
"I think I hit him in time. But I don't know." I shuddered.
"Now, about you boy. Why are you alive?" he hissed.
"Forget about me. I'm fine. But I think he's ..." I looked back at my father, tears welling up in my eyes. "Why did he do it?"
"You are not fine. Shut up and listen. You lost yourself and became a dragon, then turned back to a human in your death throes. Then your own father killed you. He thought you were dead, so he killed himself."
"But I'm right here..." I gasped, confused. "Dragon? What?"
Voldemort started swearing. "You were dead. Or at least the dragon in you was. Then that means..."
I ignored him, remembering my father. "FATHER!" I shouted into the stillness, kneeling beside him.
"O God..." he opened his eyes. "I'm in heaven..." Then he closed them again, breathing heavily.
"No, we're both alive." I whispered, wondering if I had hit his head to hard. But overjoyed that he was alive, for how long I didn't know. There was a glazed look o his face, which meant death. I saved him, only to kill him later. I must have smashed his skull, and he was hallucinating about heaven. Any minutes now, his heart would stop.
"This is wrong. You're dead. I'm dead. Why is Voldemort where? He kill himself?"
"I'm not dead. I'm confused. And so are you. Now get up, we have to get you to the hospital..." I muttered, trying to make sense of it myself.
"I get it!" Voldemort suddenly cried. "When Lucius killed Draco, he killed that evil power that was controlling him!" He grinned. "So that means you're damn bloody normal now, my son..." he laughed softly, starring at me.
"What the hell? You mean you're alive???" Father suddenly sat up and grabbed my shoulders, knocking me to the ground again. "But I killed you..." his eyes were watery. I jerked away.
"No, you killed that over powering force in me. Now I'll never get lost in my powers again. I'm just a normal kid now..."
"Malfoys aren't normal..." Voldemort hissed. I wondered if he was trying to be funny, if he was, he was doing a good job of it.
"Now I'm a muggle..." I sighed, realizing the truth.
"No. It just means that you will never get lost again. So you won't go off and try to kill yourself again." Voldemort looked mad. "But you still have intense powers. Dangerous ones, they are just no longer dangerous to you." He backed away slightly. I think he's afraid of me. Truth was dawning. It was true, I still had more power then most, I could feel it surging through my body like I've never felt it before.
"I suggest you don't drink any blood for a time." Father stood up now and grabbed my upper arm. He made a strange face at Voldemort and apparated, taking me with him.
Father was silent when we arrived home. He had an odd expression on his face. After a time, he said faintly, "You saved my life."
I shrugged and nodded, slightly proud of myself, but more glad.
"I owe you something."
"Teach me how to transform! Be an animagi!" I cried.
"You can't become a dragon again. I killed it. The dragon was the evil in you."
"So I can't transform?" my heart sank. I had not made him proud of me. He would still be disappointed in his stupid on.
"You can. Just a normal Malfoy bat though."
"Wait remember a long time ago when you said the dragon was really me and the bat was just the vampire in me?" I gasped. "Does that mean, that I am evil???"
"You have very intense powers. That does not mean evil, it could, if you wish to be."
"Should I?" The world seemed open for my taking suddenly. I could see Harry groveling at my feet.
"You must decide when it is time." He smiled at me and turned away.
I smiled weakly and turned to face him again.
"Try to transform. I will to. It is nightfall. We won't be noticed."
I sighed and started to concentrate. Hard and evil? Or good? I couldn't tell, only time would say so. Angry and kind of sad most of the time, reason unknown. But not depressed, no, never depressed. Happy when getting revenge or hurting somebody. Really? That was unstable...Lonely? I couldn't tell. Yes, I was lonely much of the time. But not really for a friend, for something more...Power? That, too, was unstable. I was hateful of love or list of any kind. New thoughts erupted over the old ones. Powerful, ever so powerful. Love of blood....love of flying, of dreaming. Of being strong...
At that moment, Father hit me hard in the back. I jumped, twisting away. I sighed, realizing I was still in human form.
"In time..." he sighed. "But for now..."
"What?"
"I've learned how to apparate you and not get caught..."
"What?" I gasped, wondering how this was possible. It may very well not be, and he was just risking law to cheer me up. I hoped that wasn't the case. I didn't want to be cheered up.
He laughed quietly, then grabbed my arm and muttered something.
A minute later, we both touched down in an alley in London and transformed again. We slipped out onto the street.
I glanced up at father, he was already looking malevolent. I have never been on a hunt before. "Blood is the official cheer-upper..."
"Really?" I knew it was true, just odd. But then again, I can remember how i loved Hermione's blood, even though she was a muggleborn.
"You know why vampires are said to have Dark Joy?" he grinned, his fangs glinting.
"We love inflicting pain and fear into others..." I smirked back, showing my own, smaller, fangs.
"And death." He added.
"What?" I jumped. I stared at him, wondering if what he was saying was the truth.
"It's true... They only have so much blood to give, and we get mad." He laughed quietly, as if the day before was completely gone. I realized that he, too, had blood lust, perhaps worse then mine.
"Bars are the best place..." he shoved me over toward one across the street. I realized we were both wearing our wizard robes, but I figured what would that matter to a bunch of muggles in stupors? They drink, we drink.
It sure as hell didn't matter.
Seven hours later, we both stood on the roof of our house, watching the sun rise, but not paying attention.
"Are you proud of me now?" I whispered.
He looked startled. "I never was not..."
"You mean that was all for nothing???" I gasped, horrified.
"No, it was not. For I tried to kill you and myself. You saved me, and who knows what saved you. Whatever it was..."
"Doesn't Malfoy mean Bad Faith?" I asked.
"Yes, but really, what's in a name?"
I stopped him. "Was it you that saved me?"
"How could it be?" he asked slowly, as if he was tasting the thought in his mind.
"I don't know yet. But I will someday."
"Maybe we are slightly immortal. Somehow..." he was thinking to the sky now, starring at it intently, yet not seeing it.
Suddenly he lunged at me, bowling me over.
"That's how it felt like when you hit me!" he cried, laughing.
I bit back a shriek of surprise and ignored his statement. "You're proud?"
"I never not was." He repeated.
"But are you?"
"You saved my life."
"No, I mean in general."
"Son, I love you. Everything about you. For a long time I thought you hated me, so I was starting to get mad. Maybe that's why I was going to kill you. But that was mainly to put you out of your misery. You were suffering. And I was mad at you and myself. But what you did the other day changed it all." He stopped and took a deep breathe.
I was silent, taking it all in.
"I am proud of you. You're the best vampiric, rich, evil, intelligent, brat out there. And I'm damn bloody proud."
I smiled, remembering how just only a few hours ago, he had taught me how to hunt. Get the girls to fall for you, get the guys interested in the dagger. Then snag them into the woods. I thought about every other father I knew.
How many would teach their son something like that, even if they were part vampire?
How many would try to kill themselves for their son?
How many would kill their son to save him?
"I'm damn bloody proud of you too, you jerk..." I smirked.
The End?....
Although the Dark Blood saga just may be at an end, there will continue to be other vampiric fics about Draco, Lucius, and possibly other ancestors. As you can see, the point of this trilogy was truly not the fact that he was part vampire, it was the fact that his father was proud of him, hence the last sentence in each fic. Therefore, other vampiric fics will appear, just possibly under similar names, and just possibly more of the Dark Blood saga, but there's also a chance of them being under a different saga.
Thank you for reading ~PikaCheeka