Author's Note:
This chapter was written whilst listening to the song 'Set Fire to the Rain' by Adelle. She has such an inspirational voice. I hope that you are still enjoying the story! I made up 'Dumensio' as a charm to make things 'pocket-sized' if you will. I know there is Reducio in the books but thats a counter-spell for Engorgio. And I know a lot of authors use that for a shrinking spell but I thought I'd have a different one slipped in here, just because I felt like it lol. If you wish to use/borrow please ask and credit me because it's mine.
You'll notice Harry having a few lapses in his determination to stay away from Draco in this chapter ;) Please leave a review if you have time.
.: chapter eight :.
SET FIRE TO THE RAIN
It had been a hard request to grant, Draco was not ashamed to admit that it had taken an enormous amount of his restraint and patience to acquiesce with Harry's demand. But there had been a stubborn, impatient fire in his eyes as he had made his demand. It had made Draco's insides glow warm almost with desire. He wanted to see more of that wilful fire. He wanted more.
That was all he had thought about for what had been left of the night, all he was still thinking about on the way down to the Hospital Wing that morning. Harry had said tomorrow, and tomorrow it now was. He would bend to Harry's fiery gale but he would not break under it, he wouldn't change himself completely, just as he wouldn't want Harry to change himself at all for him.
And just when did I begin to call him 'Harry' I wonder? He stopped then on the moving staircase, but not because of his thoughts or the odd notion of calling his first by his given name. It was the feeling of a familiar presence, a scent or a mixture of smells even. Potion ingredients, both good and bad. He sniffed the air a few times and smelt the faint aroma of scotch underneath it. He smiled softly. His vampire abilities were growing with every taste of Harry he got.
"Severus," he identified, turning slowly to face him only when he'd spoken, wanting to show Severus what he had learned first hand. The potions master raised a brow enquiringly.
"Loathe as I am to interrupt your journey to exasperate Potter, Draco, it is time for your 'check-up'." He spoke as if he knew more than he was saying. More about me and Harry, Draco thought, giving his favourite professor a minute nod. Every week since his transformation, Severus had examined him, logging changes to his physique, his reactions and abilities, tracking his change and any appearance of vampire abilities or traits. He had also been known to take samples of hair and blood to use in his experiments of trying to find a cure for the 'curse', although there had been no luck so far, not since he had invented his cure for Draco's 'reaction' to sunlight.
Draco pondered that gracious deed as he followed Severus down into the dungeons and towards his office. He has already done more than enough, Draco thought. I will already be forever indebted to him, I cannot ask for more than he has already given. He glanced up from behind his curtain of gold hair, Severus's face was tinged with apprehension. Yet it seems even though I will not ask for more, he will never stop trying. Severus was the one person who had not judged, pitied or feared him since he had been turned. Even his own parents could not look him in the eye, their only child…
The door to Severus's office opened and Draco stepped inside, ushering away that self-afflicting train of thought as the door closed behind them. It would do him no good to feel sorry for himself now. And if I rise above this better than before, then Mother and Father will see me as their son again, he thought determinedly. They will accept me back when I have shown that this curse will not twist me or the family.
He took his usual seat in front of Severus's desk and stripped off his cloak, setting it over the back of the chair out of the way. "Let's get this over with quickly?" Draco asked. "I don't want Potter squirreling into classes and escaping me as I know he will try to."
Severus shook his head with mild amusement, arranging the same familiar flasks and instruments on the desk beside him. "You speak as if he were your prey trying to 'escape' you," Severus mused, now tracing his wand over Draco's body slowly. A quill leapt to life on the table, frantically scrawling down the readings the wand was taking onto a spare bit of parchment. Draco noted that his physical readings were the same as before, although his reactions had all heightened. He smirked up at Severus as the man stood back as if to say 'impressed'?
"It is odd that your speed, strength, hearing, sense of smell…all of it has all jolted upwards in the last few days," Severus said. "It must be due to you finally getting the sustenance your body needs. After all, you received no nutrition from any of the things we had tried over the summer." His expression twisted oddly then as he took a few steps back. "It seems that Potter truly is the key to keeping you healthy. I surmise that for the first few months you must feed regularly to reach your full potential and then once you have reached it, you will most likely be able to wait longer between feeds."
Draco nodded, that made sense. "Like a child that's still growing and needs all its vitamins. Once I have matured as a vampire I will not only be at my peak of physical condition but also–"
"Have more control over when you drink," Snape finished for him. "Yes, and independence from Potter." He stared at Draco then, a mix of mild revulsion and protectiveness on his face. "You and Potter have been intimate, I can tell by his clumsy cover-up stories."
Draco shifted uncomfortably. "I have, because I wanted to not just because the vampire feeds off of him. I'm still a red-blooded male even if that blood is cold. Is it any wonder I come to desire a person when he ruts against me every three days?"
"I think you must know by now that you and the vampire are one, Draco," Severus said, taking his own seat across the opposite side of the desk. He folded his fingers together and rested his chin on them as he surveyed Draco. "The notion seems to bother you less and less with each passing day," he noted.
Draco sat up straighter, staring straight into the potions master's eyes. "If it can benefit me, what sense is there in complaining any longer? I am coming into my powers, that will allow me to seize everything back that this curse stole from me at the start. And then some."
"Potter will not succumb easily, he will blame any ounce of feeling or bliss on your 'condition' and so try to escape from you at every turn."
Draco smiled. "I know that. I enjoy a challenge. How boring would it be to pursue someone who was not as obstinate and headstrong and fiery as Potter is?" He rolled his tongue against his front teeth, against the place where his fangs were hidden. "Besides I have an advantage over him – I can give him everything that no one else has been able to thus far."
Snape pulled open one of his drawers and began to search within for something. My sunlight protection potion, Draco thought, knowing that he was due for his next batch now. "Do not get cocky, Draco, noble fools like Potter do not see it as an admirable trait," Severus warned.
"He will take me and as I am, it might take years but those are years of intriguing pursuit I am willing to use. I have other goals beyond him that I wish to reach sooner for the sake of my own comfort of course, a career, a stable station in politics and society and my parents' respect. But Potter is one that I can afford to languish time over. He will, after all be the greatest prize." The smile dropped from his face when Snape finally looked up from his search in the drawer, a look of horror twisting the man's expression. "What's…what's the matter?" Draco asked uneasily, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
No reply came immediately, only unnerving silence and the sound of Severus's cloak swishing as he moved fluidly to his feet. Draco watched as the man checked the shelves around the room silently, before vanishing briefly into the door that Draco knew attached to his personal potions supply cupboard.
Long fingers wrapped around the arms of the chair, the digits tense with unease, anticipation. He found that since his turning he'd been able to remain perfectly still, poised always like a predator waiting patiently for prey. Now, however, he felt distinctly unsettled and fidgety. It was most unbecoming of a Malfoy, even a dead one. He was just about to get up and pursue his professor when the man emerged from the storage room, allowing the door to close behind him with a foreboding thump. The look on his face made Draco's gut lurch. "What is it?" he asked, gliding to his feet and facing Severus fully. "What's the matter?"
Severus simply shook his head, walking past him as if he had not spoken and sinking into his own chair behind the desk once more. It unnerved Draco most of all when the potions master held his head in his hands. It was a fleeting sign of despair that Draco had never seen in his professor in all his years.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, even to a vampire, the older man spoke. "My pre-prepared vials of your sunlight potion have vanished," he said, his voice tense.
Draco's eyes widened. "But…you can just make more," Draco tried.
Severus looked at him levelly. "That I would, however it seems that whoever stole the sunlight potion has taken all of the necessary ingredients as well. All of them."
Draco swallowed hard. That potion was the only thing that enabled him to go about the day to his classes. Without it he'd be…
"I can order more," Severus said hastily, as if seeing the downward spiral Draco's mind was falling through and was determined to save him from it. "But it could take days…weeks until they arrive, the most important ingredients are imported from… But I can get them, Draco."
"And whoever it is will just steal them again," Draco hissed, his hands curling into shaking fists at his sides.
"I will protect them better this time–"
"You shouldn't have to!" Draco snarled, cutting across Severus's reassurances. "I shouldn't… Why did they take nothing else? Someone knows that I am a vampire and they are going to make sure that I can't seize my future the way that I…" His voice trailed off then as he realised what had happened.
That man's words rushed back, ricocheting off the inner walls of his skull. 'Never see sunlight.' He knew exactly who had promised that, who was determined to condemn him to darkness for reasons unknown to him. Caius Alaric. Draco needed to attend his classes, he needed to reassert himself in society if he ever wanted to be half of what he was before. But he also needed to be here, needed his education to get a job that would enable him to do that.
Draco got to his feet, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" Severus asked, moving as if he might stop him.
"I need to see Potter," Draco replied quietly, opening the door. Even now, the sunlight potion was burning away through his system, his last precious drops. He could feel the presence of day now, was hyperaware of it as he had been in his first few weeks of 'unlife'. It made his skin itch.
"Odd priorities, given that come tomorrow your last dose of the potion will have worn off and you will vulnerable to the sun once more."
"Just order the ingredients, Severus," Draco replied stubbornly. He needed to see Potter. He wasn't entirely certain but he was sure he could help…somehow. "I…I'll need somewhere without sunlight to–"
"You may stay in my chambers, of course. Be back before sunrise tomorrow," Severus assured him. "But if it is Potter you seek, I believe that I have a suggestion for you." Draco gave him a fraction of a nod, not raising his eyes, not looking at him as he turned back to face him fully. He would listen, Severus deserved that much, and besides which his suggestion had been foreshadowed with such a tone as Draco's curiosity could not resist.
But at the back of his mind, even as Severus talked, his mind was boiling over with a torrent of worries. There had to be a way that he could stop Alaric, one that didn't allow him or anyone else to reveal what Draco was. But whatever it was, Severus could not help him find it, no matter how desperately he would wish to – if he knew about this situation. No, no one could help. He couldn't involve anyone else, go to anyone else. There was no one else except for Potter. He only wished that he felt more disturbed by that fact.
Harry decided the moment he woke up that he loathed being a teenager. A late blooming one at that! Oh, he'd had wet dreams and his voice had deepened and though the hair on his body was sparse at best – he had it. But this unquenchable thirst for sex, he'd never felt that before. Perhaps if he'd been older, more experienced he could've pushed the stupid, senseless recollections of Malfoy's mouth devouring his away. Perhaps he could've forgotten easily the feeling of that body grinding against his. But he couldn't, and the dream that had overcome him last night when he had finally fallen asleep had only made matters worse.
After a moment of basking in the lack of tension that masturbating brought him, Harry sat up slowly, running a hand through his mussed hair in an unconscious attempt to tame it. Pulling back the privacy curtain, his stomach jerked feebly at what he saw there. He had forgotten about Hermione in his sleepy daze but there she still was, lying a few beds away, unconscious. He dressed himself in his school robes hastily before approaching his friend's bedside. Ron had gone but the chair he'd occupied last night was still there. He's probably only gone to wash up before breakfast, Harry thought as he stared down into the face of one of his best friends.
"What's happening to you?" Harry asked her, knowing full well she couldn't answer. He shook his head slowly. Whatever it was, he would find it and make it pay for hurting her…
"Ah, Mr Potter."
Harry spun on his heel, jumping in surprise upon finding Madame Pomfrey standing not too far behind him. She gave him a small smile before coming closer to the bed and performing a few murmured cleaning and stabilising spells on Hermione. Harry watched her in silence for a moment, then he took the seat Ron had vacated, staring at his friend's motionless hand.
"Surely you must have your suspicions of what it is doing this to her?" he asked the matron quietly. "Is there anything I can do? I want to help."
Madame Pomfrey was silent as she began her spells to empty Hermione's bladder discreetly and efficiently. If she hadn't done it to Harry once before when he'd been incapacitated here for some injury or other, Harry wouldn't have even realised what she was doing. Eventually though, she answered him. "I personally feel it is not just one thing that is responsible for this. And the only thing that you can do to help is to honour her wishes and study hard so that she may be able to catch up once she awakens."
Harry snorted at that. He had a feeling that the first thing Hermione would ask is how much work she'd missed. Her education was the world to her. He'd have to make some decent notes and get some work from her Ancient Runes teacher…
"You think she will awaken then?" he asked hopefully. Pomfrey's smile faded but she nodded still. "Isn't there a potion?" Harry added. "A spell to help Hermione's magic stabilise?"
Pomfrey looked thoughtful. "Not one that will work with another spell or poison fighting against it. Professor Snape has said that he would work on something to at least get her awake, if not up and about. A miracle worker with potions, that man. He has his hands full already though, I fear."
Harry nodded. Snape was a teacher of now eight years of students and also trying to help Malfoy, he knew that and it was only right. Malfoy was more important to Snape than Hermione, after all. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey, can I…can I come back to see Hermione later?" She gave a sympathetic nod and with that, Harry regretfully tore himself from Hermione's side. He had a mission now, something physical that he could do to help. He had classes to attend so that he might take notes for her. She would be most irritated if she awoke without work to catch up on.
Yes, he'd ask the teachers of the classes Hermione was in without him for work too. But then later, he had a potions master to see for that training session. If I can channel this power into something that can help Hermione, maybe it will have a use after all…
Rain beat hard down on the windows outside, thundered against the glass as the wind howled. It had turned violent outside by the time Harry made it back to the dormitory after his final lesson. He glanced out of the window as he set his bag and the stack of books down on his bed. Clouds were dark and billowing, as if hungry. It was practically black outside.
There were still a few hours until dinner and yet the house elves had already set all of the lights. Candles and a fire burned warmly in the room and Harry felt comforted by it. It almost felt…welcoming, homely. A low sigh left his lips as he slumped into his bed for a moment. He had moved non-stop today but he had worn his body down despite it being on edge all morning without using magic. Hopefully control was a lesson he would prove good at, he didn't much like not using magic.
The stack of books he had been running about all day to acquire were for Hermione of course. He planned to see her after dinner. Perhaps he could see Ron there too, since the red head had been absent from all of his lessons today. First term and we're already missing classes for mortal danger, he thought exhaustedly. It had been too much to hope for a peaceful final year, it seemed.
Suddenly the wind outside gave a great howl and Harry jumped to his feet on instinct, whirling around just in time to see lightning flash across the sky. Movement bashed against the panes. Harry flew across the room, intending to investigate the movement just as the dormitory door opened.
Malfoy's eyes seemed to rivet themselves to him the moment he saw him. Harry gave him a small nod of acknowledgement but otherwise ignored him and carried on his path towards the window. He pulled the window open, throwing all of his weight into it as he fought against the wind.
No sooner had he forced it open than a dishevelled, exhausted looking school owl dropped onto the sill, shaking wearily where it had landed. It was the very owl Harry had sent to Remus with his letter. He petted the owl thankfully, seizing some of the crackers Ron had left at the side of his bed and offering them to the bird. It gobbled them voraciously. Harry took his letter, leaving the owl on the sill to rest. It would fly back to the owlery when it was ready and when the storm had eased.
"I waited for you at the end of Charms," Malfoy said suddenly, breaking the silence as he closed the door behind him. Harry had almost forgotten he was there.
"Did you?" Harry asked, clutching Remus's letter and staring at the handwriting on the outside for a few moments, before putting it in his pocket to read later.
"Yes," Malfoy said stiffly, "and transfiguration. And–"
"Sorry, I was getting work for Hermione," Harry cut across him stiffly. What right did Malfoy have to be getting brash with him? "I wanted to take it to her after dinner. It's not like I knew you were waiting." He stopped at the end of his bed, looking to Malfoy at last. He seemed fine, Alaric hadn't got to him again yet. Though come to think of it, he hadn't seen the reputed Professor all day…
"I have… There is something I must speak to you about," Malfoy said, in a voice that sounded like that had taken a lot to get out. A great expense to his pride.
Harry frowned, trying to remain distant and apathetic but he could feel his face twist with concern. His emotions were pitifully easy to read. He would need to work on that. "Are you alright?" Harry asked then, wondering what could've been so important to have Malfoy forgoing his pride for. Malfoy sighed, the notion capturing Harry briefly, who knew that Malfoy didn't need to exhale, or inhale for that matter. It was curious how he could be gaining so much in supernatural ability and yet remain so…human.
"Someone broke into Severus's potions stores – all of them. Even his private collection. They stole the potion that he makes for me, the one that protects me from sunlight, along with all of the ingredients. Severus can order more but it will take time and…" His jaw clenched and he glanced away, staring at a particularly interesting portion of floor. "And come sunrise tomorrow the potion already in my system will have run out completely. I'll have to take sanctuary in Severus's private quarters, but I…" He trailed off and Harry realised then that as Malfoy had been talking, he, Harry had been walking towards him and now found himself stopped just a foot from the vampire.
"It was Professor Alaric," Harry said tensely. Draco gave a short, unsteady nod.
"Who else?" It was a rhetorical question and Harry had no intention of answering it regardless. He studied Malfoy's face. There was the same worrying look there that he had first seen in sixth year, all those times he had followed Malfoy without realising just how much trouble he was in. Well, he knew exactly how much trouble the blond was in now, vampire or no.
"He said he would take away my 'sunlight'," Malfoy explained through gritted teeth. "This must be his interpretation."
Harry's tongue felt like it had swelled to fill his entire mouth, he was stuck for words. What could he say? He had been so worried about Hermione that he'd forgotten about Malfoy's situation. That just proves that he doesn't mean as much to me as he tries to claim, Harry thought with an odd sense of satisfaction. Malfoy was hurt, yes, but he must realise now that Harry didn't care for him the way he'd imagined. Of course not, he thought, not liking the way it felt like he was trying to convince himself.
Suddenly, movement from in front of him drew Harry back to reality. Malfoy was distinctly closer now, there was barely any space between them.
"Severus and I believe that we have found a way to manipulate one of his more complicated healing potions to help Granger," Malfoy said, the sudden change of subject making Harry frown. Why was Malfoy talking about ways to help Hermione when he'd obviously much rather talk about himself? That's another thing, Harry thought, I could never love – or even fuck someone that was so selfish. Yes, he was definitely trying in vain to convince himself now. He could tell by the way those most recent thoughts repelled him. Malfoy had been anything but selfish lately. Malfoy's eyes were hooded with that familiar intensity again and Harry shifted nervously.
"By adding a few particular ingredients and some balancing agents to keep the potion stable, we can make a potion to heal whatever damage has been done to Granger without even knowing what it is."
Harry's brow creased even further. "What are you talking about, Malfoy?" he demanded, not able to help but notice that the way in which he used that surname was no longer as biting as it had been. It was more now like a pitiful shield between them both, one that Harry found himself reaching for when all else failed. Malfoy called him Harry now, but Harry wasn't willing to return the favour. It was an intimacy Malfoy would take far too seriously.
The vampire in question stepped even closer, a few strands of golden locks falling forward and brushing Harry's skin in a slight, ghost of a touch that made him shiver. "My blood and saliva has the ability to heal, even strengthen you," Malfoy explained. "Like last night. I gave you too much, of course, but it worked. With the right dose, a healing potion altered to incorporate my blood and saliva will heal her, whatever her problem."
Harry must've looked dubious, because he felt it. "If it's such an all-powerful cure why doesn't the wizarding world know about it?" Harry asked.
Malfoy raised a disbelieving brow. "Because vampires have no wish to be farmed into extinction like the muggles hunt tigers for medicinal and pelt purposes. Some vampires are in highly esteemed positions – in the very Ministry itself thanks to the names they have built for themselves. They do not wish to lose what they have."
"You seem to know a lot about vampire politics all of a sudden," Harry muttered.
Malfoy's face remained blank. "I don't have to be an expert to know that no one wants to become a hunted experiment. I plan to bring brilliance to my name as they have, I will not have that future threatened. So, while I will do this, Harry, no one except you and Severus must know what was in the potion."
Harry was thoughtful for a moment, the letter in his pocket suddenly feeling heavy now. He wished he could've known what Remus thought of all of this… He missed having an adult's input. He hadn't truly had that since Sirius and Dumbledore had died. Not that he needed it, he was a man himself now but he couldn't help but wish he had that almost 'parental figure' back.
That's what Remus is, idiot, he reminded himself. He sighed heavily. Things weren't as simple with Remus as they were with Sirius. It would take time to reach that level of comfort. He had become too closed off a person to open himself that easily again. Yet here was Malfoy, still staring into his eyes silently, as if he expected Harry to collapse into his arms with a swoon. It made Harry's neck prickle with irritation.
"Why are you so suddenly concerned with Hermione?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Why do you even care? You hate her and Ron for that matter. Why would you give your blood and…spit to help her? It wasn't even a year ago that you wouldn't have pissed on them if they'd been on fire."
Rather than being irritated by Harry's brash tone, Malfoy only smiled slickly. That only irritated Harry more. This display of selflessness wasn't real, he was doing this to gain something for himself. "You're only doing this to get closer to me, not to help Hermione," Harry accused, taking a step back to put a more comfortable amount of space between them. Malfoy's smirk broadened a fraction as a low chuckle drifted through his lips.
"Does it matter why I am doing this as long as she's better?"
With a sharp glare, Harry looked away quickly. The pile of homework he'd collected for Hermione was sitting right there in his line of sight. Even if Malfoy was only doing this to try and manipulate his way into his trousers, Harry just had to hope that his restraints would hold against the pull of a debt owed. He would owe Malfoy something, and he felt that no matter how much blood he gave him, he would have to offer Malfoy something more than that. But he would worry about that later.
Whatever price he had to pay he would pay it and tenfold if it got his friend awake and healthy. And then I will find whatever did this to her and annihilate it, he thought determinedly, meeting Malfoy's eyes again. "What do we have to do?" he asked. "How quickly can the potion be made?"
Malfoy's expression looked satisfied briefly, before he managed to find his complacent mask again. "It is a complex potion, but nothing to Severus. All I have to do is spill my blood and saliva and all you will have to do is feed me again a few days earlier than expected."
Harry's jaw set. His response hurried out of his mouth before he could change his mind. "I'll do it. Let's go now, I want Hermione to be well as soon as possible."
Draco just gave him a small nod and stepped to the side to allow him to go first. Harry kept his head up and his back straight as he walked past him, not able to keep from noticing the way that Malfoy 'accidentally' brushed his knuckles against his arm as he passed.
It was endurable, well more than that as far as his body was concerned, but he had a feeling that this was simply the lure Malfoy had chosen, the sharpest hook he could find. Harry would find himself reeled in even tighter after this no matter how he struggled. It was bait that Harry was unwilling to refuse even if it looked suspicious. Malfoy was playing a good game, but that was ok. He would fight back with equal force.
When they reached the dungeons, Malfoy pushed open the door to Severus's office without knocking, heading first into the room. Harry followed this time, he had a feeling he would never shed this unease he felt upon entering Snape's office. Too much had happened now to cement that discomfort. The door swung shut by itself behind him and Malfoy, and he heard a telltale 'whoosh' of privacy and protection spells securing the room. With a cursory glance back at the sealed door, Harry turned his gaze to Snape, who was standing by his desk, watching them both with an unreadable expression.
Ever the Gryffindor, it was Harry who broke the silence first. "Malfoy told me everything. I want you both to make this potion for Hermione. I want you to save her."
"Indeed," Snape acknowledged, his long fingers tapping thoughtfully on the surface of his desk. "The most difficult part of the potion is ingredients, the brewing should pose no trouble to someone with experience such as mine. You will, of course, have to replenish whatever blood Draco donates. But that is a small price to pay for your friend's health isn't it?"
Harry glared venomously, he should've remembered he was dealing with slytherins. He wasn't ready to be…to be that close to Malfoy again. Still there were more important things than his comfort. "That's fine," he said simply, "I'll need the Temporentia Sensium though, and a blood replenishing potion – I didn't have either last time and the experience wasn't one I wish to repeat."
Snape nodded. "Of course," he murmured, crossing the room to lead them into his own potions lab. It wasn't as immense as the classroom, of course but it was still as dim, still as ominous. And the company doesn't help either, Harry thought, settling onto the stool farthest from the potions bench as Malfoy and Snape began. Snape was, of course, the main brewer and Malfoy his eager assistant. Too eager.
I don't get why he wants me so much, Harry thought, he could understand it if they had anything in common, if he were good looking or even spectacularly talented or witty. But he was a gangly, short man-boy with glasses, messy hair, and he hadn't even been particularly kind to Malfoy. Yes he had helped him as much as he could, they had even had a few cordial conversations but they weren't even really friends. He said I was the only one who treated him like a human being though, Harry recalled. I suppose I can understand that part of it, at least…
Soon the room was full of potion fumes. The room must've had spells set already as a precaution though, because as overwhelming as they were, Harry didn't so much as splutter. He watched intently as Snape worked swiftly through the instructions he had written for himself. After a while he looked up, beckoning Draco over from where the blond had been tidying the used instruments away. The vampire gave a small sigh before rolling up his robe and shirt sleeve to expose his pale, milky skin.
Harry caught the odd little noise that had been about to escape him, but only just. He could see the dark mark on Malfoy's arm, faded like all the other Death Eaters' marks but stark against his milky skin. Harry shifted, uncomfortable at any amount of Malfoy's flesh being exposed before him. The two other men, however, didn't seem to even notice his discomfort.
"Relax your arm, Draco," Snape ordered, holding his wand over the crook of Malfoy's elbow. A wince didn't even cross Malfoy's face as blood was magically drawn from his veins and reappeared in the flask before him on the desk, slowly filling it. Harry swore he could see Malfoy's skin whitening with each drop that was extracted, but said nothing, nothing that is, until Snape just nodded and stepped away, whisking the blood he had drawn towards the bubbling cauldron.
Slowly he trickled it into the piping hot mixture, mixing it in with precise, careful swirls. Harry looked to Malfoy then, feeling oddly moved that he had let Snape take so much, and for Hermione no less. No, for me, he thought, not sure what to make of that knowledge. "Thank you," he told Malfoy softly. "I…I appreciate what you're doing. Hermione is important to me."
Malfoy said nothing, just watched him with dark, deep eyes until Snape returned to his side once more. The potions master pressed a small vial into Malfoy's hand. Harry could not help but be drawn to the way those long fingers curled around the shape with such precise care. It was almost as if Malfoy was having to train himself to use the minimum of his now flourishing strength. He thought about that for a moment, about how just as he would have to learn to control his magic, Malfoy would have to learn to control his instincts and abilities as they rapidly grew.
Another thing we have in common, Harry thought with a pang of irritation, realising just how wrong he had been when he had thought they had no similarities. He didn't want to be like Malfoy, to be drawn to Malfoy without any decision on his part. He didn't want to lose himself the way Ron had accused him of yesterday.
Suddenly, a sharp, sickening sound snapped Harry back to the present just in time for him to see Malfoy spitting into the vial. The blond grimaced distastefully, handing the vial to Severus who then glided back to his cauldron.
"How long will we have to wait until we're ready?" Malfoy asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry was confused by the 'we' in that statement, but kept quiet so that he could hear Snape answer.
"A few hours. Normally a healing potion such as this comes to completion in just forty-five minutes," Snape began, not once looking up from his cauldron, a look of admirable concentration overcoming his face. "However, potions masters have very few concoctions with vampire elements in. The vampires are very secretive about their abilities, and bodies for that matter, it makes any knowledge of them hard to come by. In consequence I am not sure how your blood and saliva might behave if heated too quickly. I wish to brew slowly to be safer. Three hours maximum should be all I require." He looked up at Harry then briefly, his dark eyes glistening with thoughts Harry could not even begin to guess at. "And then you may take the potion to Miss Granger, Potter."
Harry just nodded. What was there to say? They may be doing this to get something out of him (whatever that may be) but that didn't negate the fact that they were giving him something – something very precious. He thought he could understand why the vampires kept their secrets, and so too could he understand just how much Malfoy wanted whatever he intended to get in terms of repayment. It was taking a lot from the blond to give this, and not just blood.
"In that case," Malfoy said suddenly, getting to his feet with abnormal speed, despite his depleted supplies. "Potter, would you accompany me outside?" Harry glanced between him and Snape for a moment, stunned by his bluntness. But Snape didn't seem to even notice they were still in the room, so engrossed was he in his potion once more. And when Harry looked back to Malfoy again, he couldn't find it in him to refuse him. He too, got to his feet.
"Of course," he murmured, waiting for Malfoy to go first through the door before following him out. The door closed by itself and locked again behind them. Harry allowed Malfoy to lead the way slowly up out from the dungeons, not saying a word until they came to a sudden stop just inside the doorway to the Transfiguration Courtyard. "What…? What is it that you wanted to say?" Harry asked, not entirely sure that was the correct way to enquire, but still, he could bear the silence no longer. He was so uncertain of what Malfoy might ask in return for what he had done that he couldn't even stand still. He shifted nervously from foot to foot.
"Stop fidgeting," Malfoy said, turning to face him suddenly. The world outside was still roaring with rain, wind and fury, an unruly background to Malfoy's intense appearance. Harry swallowed despite himself, forcing himself to still and instead chewed the inside of his lip discreetly.
"Just tell me what it is you want. You want something from me in repayment, I can see it in your eyes. And I can't honestly deny you it. Just tell me what it is."
Malfoy watched him for a moment, the thunder rumbling mockingly above the only sound they could hear. "I don't want anything from you," Malfoy said silkily, "I just want you."
Harry flushed in a mixture of anger, frustration and embarrassment, looking away. "I'm not your prize, I can't… You can't just be doing this just because Hermione is important to me. You're doing me a favour, so what do you want? More blood? A…A…" His jaw twitched as he forced out the words, "A blow-job? What do you want?"
Malfoy chuckled. "A tempting offer indeed, I'd wager you might even enjoy it a little."
"Fuck you," Harry growled warningly, his hands curling into fists. "It just stands to reason you should ask for something as equally important to you as Hermione is to me. Just tell me so I can bloody well get it over with." Harry couldn't stand the way the vampire swayed closer, a mocking smile still playing along those lips.
"Alright," Malfoy agreed at last, "I want you to come flying with me."
Harry frowned. That meant as much to Malfoy as Hermione meant to him? "What? Now? Why?"
Malfoy was staring into his eyes again, his gaze now a dark grey, so cavernous it threatened to swallow him whole. "I haven't flown since before sixth year. And I cannot trust anyone to see me now, I might… I'm not sure how the broom's magic might react to my change. I might have increased speed or power that I cannot explain to anyone else. I want to fly."
Harry could understand that, he supposed. He hadn't flown in a while either and he missed the wind on his face. He missed the feeling of his body pressed flat against a broom as he flew forwards, so fast that the breath rushed from his lungs in exhilaration. "There's a storm going on, in case you hadn't noticed," he argued.
Malfoy's grin broadened. "Not scared, are you, Potter?" he challenged.
"You wish," Harry replied, unintentionally echoing their words of their second year as his chin raised defiantly. "You're on, Malfoy." It occurred to him much later, that Draco's request was probably intended to distract him from Hermione, from his concerns over his magic, from all of his worries. And it didn't occur to him until then, just how selfless Malfoy's request had been.
The castle certainly looked like an ominous figure under the darkened sky of the autumn storm. Rain thundered down upon the deserted grounds hauntingly. An invisible shape passed through the trees that were swaying violently with the storm, choosing to bend rather than break under the force of the wind. The Quidditch stadium stood high, towering over the man's comparably insignificant (yet powerful) self and he sighed as he stared up at the angry sky, his keen, supernatural sight barely revealing two tiny figures, swooping and diving.
The man's pale lips upturned in a small, calculating smirk as a loud 'whoop' of delight greeted his ears, despite the wails of the wind. He watched silently, watching the nearly (equally) invisible boys. Standing as their hidden observer, he watched them both, still so young despite their triumphs and trials. With still so very much to learn…
They relished in the privacy the fog and the furiously falling rain offered. High above in the midst of a thick, stormy mist, they were alone, blissfully separated from even their thoughts. Harry felt his face all-but freeze in a jaw-aching grin as he swooped down, glancing over his shoulder into the fog briefly, seeing Malfoy come bolting out after him. Offering the blond an impish smirk, Harry threw himself forward on his broom, diving hard. This would lose him for sure!
Suddenly, before he could even react to what was happening, Malfoy had dropped out of the sky, colliding into Harry's straightening dive, and throwing his arms out to ensnare him midair. The breath was knocked from Harry's lungs and he yelped in surprise, before releasing a laugh to the raging tempest, the sound all-but lost to the screeching wind.
Yet the warming sound was sure to reach Malfoy's ears, a free, uninhibited, unforced noise that made Harry's skin flush with embarrassment as he heard it leave his lips. There would always be this competitiveness, this friction between them, it seemed. But apparently that didn't stop them enjoying themselves. Very much.
"Your turn to play seeker," Malfoy challenged him then, "I'll be your snitch." Releasing Harry awkwardly, Malfoy pushed him back with a playful shove, before flying off into the stadium. "You'll never catch me, Potter!" he called back arrogantly. Harry flashed him a grin before shooting after him.
Draco lay flat against his broom, flying through the tallest goal-post and diving down towards the stand. His laughter called back to Harry, who careered through one of the lower hoops, descending after him. Mere feet from the ground, Draco rolled midair, dipping down beneath the stands. The world was spinning but his mind was racing, his sluggish heartbeat thumping in a hard beat. He may be dead but he had never felt more alive. He could see Harry weaving between the structures without slowing, gaining swiftly on him. Smirking broadly, Draco yanked back hard on his broom, soaring upwards and back into the downpour.
He was climbing the skies, hearing and feeling Harry's heart-rate accelerate into a crescendo of excitement as he drew closer. The Firebolt ridiculed his own broom even with his vampire speed (which, as it turned out did not overly affect the broom's magic). It was gaining insanely quick, and as Draco's excitement peaked, Harry slammed into him, nearly knocking him from his broom. Draco went rigid with surprise, but Harry cried out with laughter, his fingers knotted tightly in his, Draco's robes, as they both struggled to regain their senses. But unlike Draco, when he had caught him earlier, Harry did not let go.
Harry blinked, staring at him through damp lashes for a considerate moment, until the chosen one used his grip on him as purchase, and pulled himself towards him.
Suddenly, a white crash leapt across the sky and thunder roared lividly above. Harry jumped, evidently startled from his excitement induced haze by the worsening cries of the storm. Draco pulled back, offering him an indecipherably impassive look. "We should head in," Draco murmured carefully.
Harry sighed heavily, staring at his companion through his (magically water-repellent) glasses. His breath came out in curls of fog in the freezing air. His hands were frozen to the broom but he didn't care. And at the sight of Draco's brief smirk – a sign of that ice-cold mask failing beneath his gaze, Harry offered a swift grin. "Beat you to the ground," he yelled, before throwing himself forward on his broom and yelling out with unbridled freedom. He felt invincible, immune to his concerns when he was flying.
He flushed hotly, feeling the wind tear brutally at his skin. Rain crashed into his soaked clothes. Malfoy was gaining on him. Harry smirked devilishly, aiming his broom hard for the ground. It was but feet away now; Malfoy had pulled up, calling something desperately to him. But he did not relent. He was still hurtling towards the ground, set to hit it until he jerked his arms sharply, the Firebolt lurching under his precise control. His muscles tensed and his back arched as the broom flew upwards, skimming the grass as he did so, barely missing a head-on collision with the ground. Gliding within touching distance of the sodden grass, he touched down, skidding to a graceful halt.
Spinning on his heel, Harry's eyes scanned the muddy pitch, only to see Malfoy straightening up as he landed carefully, his back stiff. Harry darted over to him. "What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly, his cheeks red and hot with the flush of excitement. "Malfoy?"
But the vampire remained silent, his jaw set in determination not to scream his outrage to the deserted pitch, it seemed. Harry stared up at him through a curtain of dark, damp hair. "You weren't worried, were you?" he asked the blond carefully.
Draco sneered. "Do not be ridiculous, Potter," he snarled. He stared at him hard for a moment, before shaking his head in disbelief and turning to head back across the grounds quickly.
The wind screeched, whipping against him spitefully, yet even the thundering skies overhead, even the rage causing his eyes to burn into the path ahead of him could not erase the fluttering freedom from his chest. He had felt so free of the world's pull up in the sky, they both had. In their own private world amidst the storm, he had felt as if he had found a lost part of himself, the missing piece to fill the void in his now unmoving, cold chest. And Merlin help him, he'd been worried – terrified when he'd seen Harry hurtling toward the ground, promising to take Draco's newfound freedom with him.
But what had terrified him even more, was that it hadn't been until after he had seen harry pull up from the dive, seen himself that he had remembered, Harry's death would, in the end mean his own. He'd been more concerned with Harry's safety than his own life.
"Malfoy!"
That voice broke him free of his musings as it called to him, barely audible above the screaming skies – to human hearing. But Draco did not pause to wait for Harry to catch up. His hand clasped around his broom determinedly, he had to rid his face of this look before Harry caught up to him. Fear, it was not optional to a Malfoy, much less a vampire…
"Malfoy wait!" Harry called again, a tinge of regret in his voice as his feet sprinted along the damp path. He was quickly catching him up. Damn him, he was fast for such a scrawny brat, and Draco dared not use any amount of vampire speed to aid him, not in such an open setting that could be so easily overlooked.
"Draco!"
That stopped him. Draco stopped stock-still, and those gasping attempts to draw breath were suddenly beside him.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you-"
"I wasn't scared, Potter," he scoffed, but did not turn away this time. This time he remained still, unable to tear himself away from a soaked Harry Potter, peering up at him for forgiveness. It was…pleasing, oddly. But he had been scared, and he knew there was no way to deny it, at least not to himself. And not to Harry, his mind supplied. His eyes widened then. I thought 'Harry' – and he said 'Draco'! As naturally as if it were breathing!
Harry chewed his lip obstinately, determined not to forsake his pride further by admitting the truth, yet even more unwilling to let Malfoy retain his pride by stalking off alone, possibly into Alaric's waiting grasp. Even if he was more than a little confused about the freedom the vampire had just imbued him with, yet again, he didn't want to ruin whatever had just happened by being too proud.
"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, flinching a little at Draco's sneer. It was stupid really, any progress made by their 'flying match' had been spoiled by his childish act. Childish, yes, that was the perfect way to describe how he had been acting all day. "I was…trying to impress you, I suppose." It wasn't very like him, but then, neither was snogging the face off of a vampire he had hated for roughly seven years. A lot had changed since the end of the war.
Draco's eyes widened at Harry's honesty, and the blond cleared his throat a little, awkward at the admittance. Harry could practically see the astonishment in Malfoy's face, he was only just realising how faultlessly honest he, Harry was, right down to the bone.
"Impress me by killing yourself, Potter?" Malfoy snapped then, with no real force to his words. Harry sighed in relief at the sound of the vampire's voice, and stepped a little closer to the damp blond.
"You've seen me fly before. I'm not good at much but I'm an alright flier, I was never in any danger," he smirked a little to punctuate his words. "Not from hitting the ground anyway."
Malfoy stared at him, his expression vacant for a moment. Until, at last, the anxiety, embarrassment and the foul temper that came with them faded in preference to his pride. "Don't worry yourself over it, Potter, here," Draco said, reaching for Harry's Firebolt. His fingers enclosed around it, but he did not pull it towards him. Patiently, he waited for Harry's permission.
Harry stiffened on instinct, unsure of what his companion was up to. The Firebolt was his first and most precious gift from Sirius. Draco raised a questioning brow, and Harry (shamefully reluctant) obliged. Harry watched as the vampire reached into his robes for his wand, and winced a little. The vampire obviously noticed, because he offered a reassuring smirk before passing both brooms into Harry's grasp.
"Hold them for me," Draco said, directing his wand at both of them. "Dumensio!" With a flourish of his wand, the items shrank up swiftly until Harry had to clench both fists tight to keep the minimised possessions in his palms. His eyes were wide as he opened his hands and stared at them. Draco laughed. "Did you think I was going to blow them up?"
Harry looked away briefly, ashamed of his lack of trust in someone who…well; he wasn't really sure just what Draco was any longer.
"It just makes it easier to sneak back in without drawing attention to us," Draco elaborated, taking his own shrunken possession and stowing it away in his pocket. Harry blinked, doing the same just as Draco grasped his wrist. Electricity leapt up his arm from their contact. Cold flesh against cold flesh. Diverting his gaze to the ground in an effort to hide his reaction from such an simple touch, Harry found himself tugged into movement.
"Let's get inside before you freeze to death," Malfoy suggested, reluctantly releasing Harry's wrist and after a few short steps he broke into a run. Harry smirked, bolting after him across the muddy grounds. Was this the kind of careless freedom he was robbed of as a child? He wondered too, as the wind whisked past him, as adrenaline and excitement surged through his veins, if Draco was permitted this freedom as a child? But judging by the way the forever eighteen-year-old relished in it, the way he sped off across the grounds at accelerated (but still human) speed, illuminated by a flash of lightning, Harry assumed not.
It was as if the force of the wind had blown some of the heavy weight from his shoulders whilst he'd been up there on his broom. As if some of the bitter cobwebs clogging up his soul had been swept away. He hadn't felt like this in years. Hadn't been able to forget his concerns like this in so long. Harry beamed, an incoherent yell passing his lips and calling after Malfoy, who whirled to face him once he'd reached the door. The light from the lanterns caused his wet hair to shine like a blond halo, and Harry's eyes grew bright at the sight of that breathless smile gracing Draco's lips. He looked so young, so different to the arrogant brute he'd fought with for years.
The youngest, the most human I've ever seen him, Harry thought, except he's dead. He kept telling himself that, kept reminding himself they had been agreeable acquaintances for a few scarce weeks and yet he was steadily growing closer to the vampire. It was hard to remember why he hadn't wanted to give into him at that moment. His head was swimming with the not so unpleasant images that had plagued him all night and this morning. Trustworthy or not, honest or not, Harry was finding his disagreeable qualities more and more endurable and his appealing qualities more and more…attractive.
Oh Merlin, he swore mentally as he sped towards the vampire, I think Draco Malfoy is attractive. I've snogged him of my own free will.
The last few seconds of his sprint seemed to move in slow-motion. That smile penetrated the guarded, suspicious barriers and all remaining reservations about Malfoy. It didn't dissipate them, but they certainly took a blow. This man that watched him now, the owner of the lips that had pressed so eagerly against him, he was not the same person he had once known. He knew he had changed but he had never been sure of how much. Behind the feigned Malfoy arrogance, the failing mask, was someone completely different. Someone Harry was so swiftly and stupidly beginning to trust.
And care about, an unnervingly 'Malfoy-sounding' voice whispered at the back of his mind.
Malfoy was watching him with dark eyes from the front doors, and Harry's heart sped up as they glistened with something unfamiliar, unnerving, yet thrilling. Whatever it was mixed irresistibly with a challenge that accelerated Harry's steps so that he stumbled the last two, fumbled them in his haste to show Malfoy exactly what he thought he was winning so easily.
Just because I find him attractive doesn't mean this is an automatic win for him, he thought even as he saw the ground coming. I wont be convinced he's what I want that easily. He struggled to catch himself only to have two hands grasp him under his arms, yank him up and push him a little too roughly into the wall.
The breath was knocked from his lungs with Malfoy's rescue, but the mirth had not died from either of their faces. Harry smirked, noting that the fingers knotted in his robes did not fall away, and that Malfoy's cool, pale face was mere inches from his. Musky breath tumbled from that mouth over Harry's face; he could taste it on his slightly parted lips. Harry found that all-too familiar blush rushing to his cheeks as blood rushed to his nether-regions. He knew his resistance was falling, hard and fast – no one got a reaction out of him like Malfoy did – good or bad. He couldn't chase after or be captured by any one else…
Equals, he thought, remembering Malfoy's words. Just like he said.
"It seems I caught you even though you were the one chasing," Malfoy breathed and Harry swallowed hard, nodding dumbly. He was sure his eyes were as wide and wondering as a doe's in headlights, just as sure as he was that the dark stars that lit up inside those eyes were lidded with something more intense than he had ever known. Harry cursed Malfoy. He cursed his own virginal reactions even as his tongue darted out unconsciously to wet his suddenly dry lips. Malfoy's eyes followed the tiny movement, the fingers of one cold hand reaching out to ghost over Harry's mouth awkwardly.
Inexpertly, uncertainly Malfoy forced his words out. "You want me to kiss you again." It was a statement, not a question and Harry shivered in anticipation, unconsciously standing up on his toes to accept the potential kiss better. But Malfoy did not move, and Harry felt a frown crease his brow.
"I want you to kiss me…again," he clarified with a barely-there whisper, nearly losing his voice on that last word. Surveying him for a painfully prolonged moment, the blond spanned the space between them.
Harry watched him through his soaked curtain of obsidian hair, water running from the tendrils and down the bridge of his nose. Malfoy's nose nudged his up ever-so lightly, catching the rivulet of water between their mouths as he sealed them. Harry's eyes slammed shut. His arms remained rigid at his sides, hands clenched into tight, unsure fists, although Malfoy did not. The blond's long fingers knotted in his clothes determinedly, while the digits of the other hand braved a whispering touch of his frozen cheek, before sliding back into his damp hair.
Harry's lashes fluttered briefly, his eyes cracking open to risk a curious glimpse of Malfoy's closed eyes and damp, eternally youthful face, before shutting his eyes once more with a sigh into that mouth. Gaining bravery from the sight of his…companion, Harry leant up, parting his mouth to flick his tongue persuasively over those lips, which parted in answer (albeit with a smirk).
Harry leant into the embrace, his arms still awkwardly rigid at his sides as his tongue swept into that mouth coercing Draco's latent muscle to follow his back, beyond his own lips. A moan tore from him, muffled by the kiss as that tongue circled his own, shy one and traced the roof of his mouth before Malfoy stepped back reluctantly.
The rain stampeded down towards the earth around them. And the wind began to howl once more. Evidently oblivious to the fury of the world, Malfoy looked down to one of Harry's tensed hands, and tugged it up slowly to his chest, where his own fingers forced the limb to relax until it was flat against his wet robes. Harry blinked at the slow, barely-there heartbeat he felt under his fingers. A moment passed between both their breathless, lustful bodies, until Malfoy's free-hand darted forward, tugging Harry tightly to his chest,
Malfoy's skin was like ice but he felt the rain burn as it ran down those cheeks, rushing onto his own skin as their lips melded together like liquid. His hands shot up, seizing Malfoy's face so hard he swore his fingers were shaking with their grip. He scratched at the vampire's cheeks lightly, the rain hot and fiery under his fingers, in his hair. He could hear his own frantic breath, his own heart as it thudded maniacally with all the force of the thunder above. Malfoy must have heard it too, it seemed, for that hand slid up between them then. It clawed at Harry's shirt, fighting to get in until it lay flat on Harry's skin, just above his heart.
Harry groaned at the little burst of electric heat he felt there and tore his head back a fraction, rain clinging to his lashes as his face turned up to the roaring heavens.
"So warm," Malfoy panted incoherently, "I've never felt this warm." He leant in then, sealing their lips with another impassioned kiss. Harry went to him willingly, all of the panic and fear and worry for Hermione, for Remus, for Malfoy himself even, completely consumed by the fiery raindrops pounding down on their interlocked bodies.
Harry was soaked through, as was Malfoy and yet he felt so burning hot as he tilted his head to get deeper into Malfoy's mouth. Now his tongue swiped out to meet the vampire's with equal passion and vigour and desperation. Neither of them had ever felt this alive, not even when they had rutted together in the hall with blood shared between them. This was just a kiss, so simple sounding and yet it was so much more.
Letting out a small, unsteady gasp, Harry found his skin trembling with delicious shivers even as his body stood firm and determined in the wild storm. The heat of Malfoy's coolness touched him deeper than any curse or spell.
Suddenly, a low growl shot through Malfoy's lips, brushing against Harry's mouth before he jerked his head away. Harry frowned, motioning to step back, only Malfoy's hand locked around his wrist sharply. The blond jerked his head to the side, sniffing the air.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked, his breath but a whisper on the wind, lost to the screaming of the skies. But he knew Draco – Malfoy had heard him, somehow. "What is it?"
Malfoy scowled at the horizon, inhaling again. "Something is out there. And it's been there for a while, whatever it is. I didn't sense it in the air before, but now…" The vampire stalked forwards slowly, not releasing his grip on Harry's wrist and so tugging him along with him.
Draco's innards clenched with anticipation, tensed as if ready to pounce. He eyed the tree-line warily. Something was there, he couldn't pinpoint just what but it was potent and eerily familiar. "It must have been watching us the whole time, waiting for its moment," he murmured to Harry, who had at least remained quiet. The other man gave a small nod, reaching for his wand with the hand not locked in Draco's death-grip.
"Homenum Revelio," Harry muttered and a light burst from his wand. It glowed in the dimness of the stormy world, lighting up the grass beneath Harry's feet before vanishing completely.
Draco snorted. "That means only that whatever is watching, isn't human," he said, taking another step towards the forest. He couldn't help but notice the way Harry's body was tenser now, hotter, as if under a great deal of strain. And just from that one small spell, Draco thought, keeping his gaze focused on the edge of the forest. And the invisible creature lurking there. "I'll kill it."
"Don't leap before you look," Harry warned, yanking sharply on the arm that Draco held captive, so that he felt his need for freedom. Reluctantly, Draco released him. "It could be an innocent vampire or werewolf or something, you don't know. You can't just go charging down there and–" Harry's voice died in his throat as a shrill, piercing howl tore through the air.
It lasted unnaturally long, pitching off into a low whine before dying completely. A hunter's cry, Draco thought, knowing it instinctively. Somehow. "Well, we can't just let it wander off to hurt someone if it isn't innocent, now can we?" Draco snapped.
Harry scowled. "As if you care! You only care about showing off your bloody vampire powers, not innocent people – creatures, whatever. He stepped in front of Draco then, brandishing his wand once more. "Creatur Revelio!" This time, the light that came forth lit up the ground beneath Draco's feet before flying through the trees like a bolt from a bow. It burst through the dark line of trees and vanished, disappearing just beyond the border.
Something was there alright, right there.
Harry would, no doubt at one point have thought twice about entering the forest with no one but Draco Malfoy at his back. Now, however, Draco watched him step forward without a pause and move towards the trees without so much as a glance back. Despite the way his body shook from using his magic. He knows that I will follow, Draco thought, that our paths are twined together, wherever they lead. That together, we can be unstoppable. He didn't know how he knew that, he just knew.
The connection they had merely tasted when they shared memories, blood and bodies had the ability to grow, to deepen and unleash unto them such insurmountable power. It was a possibility they both had yet to explore. But it's more than that, you know it, his mind corrected him. Draco's head bowed in a slow, personal nod, then he flew forwards, putting himself at Harry's side.
Falling into stride with Harry, Draco felt his fangs itching to break free, eager to show his strength in the way his instincts were suggesting in a whisper at the back of his mind. "No heroics, Potter, I can already see the sweat on your skin from those two minor spells. You shouldn't use magic until you're in control–"
"I am in control as long as I keep my emotions harnessed," Harry cut across him obstinately. "I don't intend to be a hero, I just want to make sure whatever is there won't hurt anyone."
"Just let me be your weapon until it's safe, will you?" Draco suggested. "That's the idea, I'm sure you've realised. You offer me blood and I offer you a bodyguard and a lover."
Harry flushed darkly, the pinkish hue dusting across the skin his cheeks and all the way down his throat. Draco relished in the sight of it, his tongue swelling with the tantalising, teasing pulse of blood there. He wasn't at his peak, he needed more but now was not the time. He was slowly but surely learning to wait.
"I need neither, thank you," Harry replied stiffly.
"Because you're such a good judge, aren't you?" Draco growled. "Oblige me this once, will you?" Harry said nothing in reply but allowed Draco to lead the way through the barrier of the trees regardless, his wand still in hand. Draco didn't think Potter would ever let someone fight for him, or in his stead, not so long as he had breath in his lungs.
I shall have to show him that he needs to allow someone to take over for him once in a while, Draco thought, staring around at the dark forest.
The trees swayed above under the force of the storm and he kept close to Harry's side, listening as far as he could for movement. The snap of a twig, a sharp, inhuman breath, anything that would betray their stalker. Suddenly Draco stopped, and beside him Harry went still as well, almost simultaneously. Even he can't deny how perfect we are together, not forever anyway, Draco thought as he studied the immediate space around them. He had heard something, it had been close by. So very close…
Suddenly, another piercing howl tore through the air, overpowering even the cries of the storm above. It was closer now. Draco tensed, ready to leap the second he saw…whatever it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry's wand steady in his hand. "That didn't sound like a wolf," Draco whispered. "Not a normal one at any rate."
"Werewolf?" Harry suggested. But Draco did not reply, there was a low, muffled murmuring ahead now. He slunk lower, taking swift, soundless steps towards the noise. Harry followed quietly, catching up to him where he had finally stopped, beneath the cover of an overgrown bush. Draco glanced to him reassuringly, before creeping into the small opening in the bushes, invisible to anyone who wasn't looking. Carefully but sharply, he tugged Harry in after him.
It was a tight fit, their bodies were so close that they were touching. But they had bigger problems to concern themselves over now. Their hiding place had given them an unhindered view of the 'wolves' they had heard alright. Except they weren't really wolves at all.
~To Be Continued...
