A/N: A little short, I know… But there wasn't much else to say in this chapter, really…
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I don't pretend to own 'em. And I shall now go sulk in that corner…
Chapter Nine
Draco hesitated for a second – was it a second too long? – before reaching out and placing his pale hand on top of Harry's, covering the one that was clutching the professor's throat in a vice-like grip.
"Harry," Draco whispered, afraid of the dark glaze in the boy's eyes. He tried to find Harry in those eyes, but only saw something that was raw and animalistic. Something that was frightening and alluring at the same time. Not the Harry he knew.
Those eyes tore away from the professor and looked at him with a confused stare. Harry stared at him – Harry's vampire stared at him – for long seconds before recognition registered.
His lips opened to say something, but Draco quickly spoke while he had Harry's attention, "Harry, please stop."
Draco hated pleading. He never pleaded, never asked for anything, he simplydemanded. But for Harry, he had to. Harry wasn't Harry at the moment, that much was obvious.
The professor was wide-eyed and didn't seem to know what to do. He spluttered and strove for breath, scraping his nails on the back of Harry's hands, all in vain to try and make him stop. But Harry didn't even notice. He wasn't looking at the professor any longer, though his grip remained just as excruciatingly firm.
As the professor's face turned a worrying shade of red-purple, Draco clung to Harry tighter.
"Harry, you have to let him go." He implored, wondering why he was bothering at all. He didn't even like the professor… But something told him that when Harry came back to himself, he wouldn't take the death of the professor by his hands in this condition well, no matter his suspicions of the man.
Harry's brows knitted, as though puzzled. Draco didn't blink, didn't move. He only pleaded with his eyes.
"Please, Harry. You can't do this, not now." Draco slowly moved his free hand towards Harry, and touched his cheek softly. "Not now. You can't do this now."
Harry seemed to be working something out in his mind, and though he loosened his hold on the professor slightly, he didn't let go, nor did his eyes return to normal.
"Later?" the word was uttered in a hoarse whisper, somehow deeper, somewhat darker than Harry's usual tone of voice. Draco shivered, but kept his eyes steady, unblinking.
"Yes. Later, Harry. Not now."
Seemingly satisfied, Harry nodded and let the professor go with a glare. He bared his teeth, and the professor stood frozen still, unable to move for his overpowering fear.
"Leave now, professor." Draco snarled. "And I think it would be wise not to speak of this incident to anyone."
Without a word, and looking back only fleetingly as he fled the corridor, the professor left the two alone. A blood thirsty vampire and an unprotected student. Alone.
Draco watched Harry with a concerned stare, noting that the dark eyes were suddenly and intensely focused on him alone.
"H-Harry?" Draco stuttered.
He was pushed against the wall, much like the professor had been, except this was far from threatening.
Harry's eyes were hypnotising, making him forget his tension. The feel of the cool skin was soothing to his own heated flesh, and Draco closed his eyes as Harry pressed himself closer.
The Gryffindor buried his nose in Draco's neck, and Draco could almost feel Harry scenting out the blood that rushed beneath his skin's surface. Oddly, he did not mind. A happy fog had encased his mind, his thoughts, and he thought that maybe it would feel good if Harry were to… to drink from him.
He tilted his neck to the side, inviting Harry to drink. Draco felt the vampire shudder in anticipation, and the soothing coolness that was being pressed against him suddenly felt more real, more satisfying, and he wanted more.
Then those sharp fangs were piercing his skin, and Draco's breath hitched as he felt a rushing sensation through his body. It was heavenly, perfect, this feeling of union and mutual satisfaction… and yet, it wasn't enough.
Harry moaned against Draco's neck, and he arched in response. They were pressing closer together, closer and closer, feeling each other's need and want. Harry shifted his hips, grabbing hold of Draco at the same time and maneuvering them so that Harry held Draco's weight braced against the wall. Draco wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, and they both bucked their hips at the same time, creating a delicious friction between their throbbing erections through the layers of clothes.
As Harry finally drank his fill, he swiped his tongue over the wound once, before giving Draco a fevered and lustful kiss, transferring the last remnants of the taste of blood as their tongues swept past each other in their kiss.
They kissed as for as long as Draco could hold his breath, keeping up the quick, needy thrusts of their hips until the stimulation reached its peak, and they reached their climax.
Breathing deeply, Draco rested his forehead on Harry's shoulder and just drifted languidly through his orgasmic haze. Harry lazily lapped at the last drops of congealing blood from Draco's wound, sending small shocks through the blonde's still sensitive nerves.
Once consciousness returned, Harry smiled to himself just as Draco pushed himself from his arms.
"Shit," Draco cursed himself. He took another step back, shaking his head. Harry only smiled wider, and Draco bemusedly noted that his eyes were back to their usual emerald green.
"My, Draco…" Harry murmured, taking a step closer. "I didn't know you cared so."
Draco shook his head again, and cast a frantic look around their surroundings. No one was there, nothing to distract him, not that he really expected there to be.
"I – I didn't… I was just-"
Harry took another step forwards, and wiped the slightly damp fringe back from Draco's wide grey eyes. "No matter, Draco… It would have happened eventually. Thank you."
Harry waved his hand almost absently, casting a cleaning charm on the two of them, and took an unhurried step backwards.
"Until next time."
Draco was left staring at the wall in self-loathing and puzzlement.
Outside the castle, a cloaked individual ran across the grounds, and into the Forbidden Forest where the anti-Apparition wards ended. He turned once, and disappeared with a 'crack!' that was lost amongst the myriad of sounds emitting from the castle's Great Hall.
If anyone had been watching the cloaked man, they would have shivered in disgust to see the sinister smile that coated his oily lips.