I don't own Harry Potter. Like, for real. JKR own everything.
I do own characters and certain terms that are not from the original books/movies. (such as Trenton, and "Vampira Magika". If anyone wants to use any of my ideas in their fics, that's perfectly alright, but make sure to tell me if you do, or I'll probably assume that you've stolen from me. Copying my ideas without disclaiming in A/N is a crime.)
Warnings: the usual (slash, darkness, crude language, Ciiah's bad sense of humour, etc.)
A/N: God, I'm so sorry for always making you guys wait so long! I'm sure some of you are noticing that the quality of my chapters is slipping. This is because I'm a university student with very little free time on my hands. At the same time I'm desperately trying to find a decent job. I'm also working on two other fics, and I seriously need to update "Sweet and troublesome", cuz I haven't updated that one since january! I feel SO bad, you have no idea! I love writing more than anything, but with everything that's going on, I don't know if I can maintain my previous way of writing due the huge amount of stress. I know I can do better. Please bear with me. And do review, even if you thought the chapter sucked. I could probably use a good kick in the butt to get serious.
"Ow. Ow.... Ow... Blaise, I said OW!" Draco snarled and slapped the darker teen on the arm with an irritated face before turning to the wall, bracing himself with trembling palms, panting exhaustedly. Blaise frowned with equal amount of annoyance and put his hands on his hips, having mercy on the blonde, allowing him to have a breather. Draco hadn't been out of bed in almost two weeks, but he was apparently still weak.
"Well, I'm sorry, but if you don't start walking soon, you're never going to heal. And you need to be healthy before getting turned."
"I know!" Was the frustrated reply and Draco turned his glare to the floor. Blaise's stern expression softened and he put his hand on Draco's clammy shoulder, sliding strong fingers up the pale neck. Draco relaxed a little and sighed at the gentle pressure Blaise added into the touch. Blaise went to stand closely behind Draco and gave the slightly trembling shoulder an easy massage. "I know that," Draco murmured dejectedly. "But every step hurts like I'm walking on fucking glowing spikes."
"You're just not used to it yet," Blaise said and brushed his lips against Draco's clammy nape before taking the blonde's hand, taking a step to the right to walk next to Draco. "Come on now, just a few more steps."
"This better be worth it," Draco muttered, but braced himself by gently chewing on his bottom lip and furrowing his brows. The agony started again, and Draco didn't hesitate to let everyone in the castle know just how painful his rehabilitation was.
Ron watched them with an amused glint in his eyes. He sat by the window and looked on as Draco made his way down the corridor, clutching onto Blaise's strong arm. The fact that both Draco and Ron had been so weakened by the operation really should have worried him more than it did. No one had expected Ron and Draco's bodies to be so exhausted. The blood transplant was, after all, one of the rare kinds of surgery. Few knew how to handle it. Draco did his best in trying to regain his strength, but Ron just didn't seem to find the motivation. He didn't know why.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be turned. He didn't regret anything, and he was beyond happy to be able to hang out with Harry again. The few months he had been left without Harry had been more painful to him than Draco's agonizing attempts to walk. Harry had always been his pillar of support, even though Ron didn't always deserve it. But he was tired. God, he was really tired. Ron had started falling asleep every now and then, sleeping for less than an hour, only to being forced awake again, feeling even more exhausted than before.
He turned his gaze to the world outside the castle. It was dark. Nathanael had explained to him that the sun didn't exist in this world. Only the moon, which glowered against Ron, casting ghostly shadows behind him. He could see the tops of different trees waving to him, swaying gently in the wind. He suddenly had an urge to go outside. Just to feel a gust of wind ruffling his hair. Maybe then he'd feel alive again. Being caught inside the castle didn't exactly help Ron's sense of motivation kick in.
But he wasn't allowed to leave the third floor. Ron frowned without realizing it. The castle was filled with creatures who would love to sink their teeth into him, breaking skin, drinking his blood. The castle was filled with vampires. That was the reason Ron wasn't allowed to leave. He was safe of the third floor.
Ron pressed his palm against the chilly surface of the window, hoping he'd perhaps get a sense of what it would feel like to be outside, but the only result of putting his hand against the glass was feeling cold seep into his skin. He sighed and removed the hand slowly.
"You look perfectly miserable."
Ron slowly turned to the source of the sound and was met by a quirked eyebrow and crooked grin. Nathanael. Ron attempted to give a smile, but failed.
"I'm just tired," he replied, but as he spoke, even he could hear the empty tone of his voice. "I want to go outside."
"That," Nathanael started and took a seat next to Ron, "is unfortunately impossible at the moment. You do realize that they would rip you to shreds if you walked outside, don't you?"
"Aren't you a vampire, too?" Ron countered and quirked an eyebrow. "How come you're not ripping me to shreds then?"
Nathanael grinned cockily and revealed sharp canines. Ron's gaze was drawn to them before he could stop it, and Nathanael quickly stopped smiling, as if sensing they made Ron uncomfortable. Which they actually did. It didn't matter that Ron would soon have his own set of pointy fangs, because at the moment, Ron was still human and Nathanael wasn't.
"There are vampires, and there are vampires," Nathanael replied and made Ron cock his head to the side. "I'm over a hundred years old. I've learned to control my hunger. But there are younger and much weaker vampires in this castle, and even though they know that they aren't allowed to harm you, the scent of your blood would be enough for them to go berserk. Vampires can live on the blood of animals, but human blood is like a drug."
"Hmm?" Ron hummed and gave a pale smile. "So... You're like a vampire-vegetarian, then."
"I wouldn't say that," Nathanael chuckled. "I love human blood, I'm not going to lie to you. The taste is unbelievable. Some day, you'll understand. To be frank, it's like I'm having a conversation with a gourmet meal." The vampire sniggered, as if the thought greatly amused him. Ron stared at him with a slightly alarmed expression. Nathanael seemed to realize his blunder and continued. "But yes, in certain ways, I guess you could call me a vampire-vegetarian. I never kill humans unless I'm forced. Unlike other vampires. One of my older brothers likes to kill humans, even if he's not hungry. Trenton banned him from this castle several years ago because of that."
"Trenton sounds like a good guy."
"Oh, I'm sure he sounds like a saint to you. Trenton has his moments of evil, too. But he believes in mutual respect between humans and vampires. Although it might seem like we're much stronger than humans, they have powers that we don't possess, too."
"Such as?" Ron asked after snorting with amused disbelief.
"Humans..." Nathanael's expression softened a little. "Humans have the power to walk in sunshine. They live on, trying their very best to succeed in everything. They have a sense of love for life. Compassion. Intuition. Humans believe in happiness, and they are doing everything they can to gain it. I think it's quite admirable."
Ron snorted again and turned back the dark world outside the castle.
"Humans start idiotic wars. Half the world of humans is filthy rich, while the other part suffers from poverty. Humans are greedy, jealous-"
"Humans are humans. Unsightly feelings like greed and jealousy are natural. Vampires possess them, too." Nathanael said and glanced to Ron, who suddenly looked angry as he stared into the wall on the other side.
"Humans stab other humans in the back. Humans dessert one another. Humans don't care."
"You sound like you're speaking from experience."
Ron didn't reply at once, but opted to turn his gaze to Blaise and Draco who had, at last, made their way to the end of the corridor, and were now trying to get back. Draco had stopped whining, but the expression on his face was dull and aching. Blaise seemed to murmur words of encouragement to the blonde, who sometimes nodded briefly. Ron sighed before turning back to Nathanael, who also watched Draco and Blaise fighting to get back to their room.
"I am," Ron finally mumbled and scowled to the floor. "My mother and father weren't pleased when I helped Harry escape from Hogwarts."
"Well, that I can imagine." Nathanael nodded and dragged a hand through his hair, not really catching onto the impact of what the redhead was trying to explain. Ron gave a hollow smile without taking his eyes from the stone floor.
"... They completely shunned me. At first they were just really, really angry. I've never been yelled at like that before. My mom even hit me. And then, after a few days, they just... started to ignore me. Like I was air. I was sent back to Hogwarts. My classmates didn't speak to me. My sister ignored me. The only acknowledgement I got from my brothers was a few glares. Like I wasn't even their brother anymore, just another fellow student that they didn't like.
"Mom stopped sending me letters. And then, just before Christmas and I was getting ready to go home, hoping they had forgiven me, I finally received one. It said that I wasn't welcome home for Christmas. I had to spend the holiday without my family, for the first time in my life."
Ron turned his hollow gaze to Nathanael who looked too stunned to speak. A sad, crackling and trembling smile made its way to Ron's lips.
"All because I wanted my best friend to be happy." The redhead grit his teeth before he continued. "I used to hope that they'd forgive me. I was even willing to overlook the fact that they were going to force me to spend Christmas alone. I just wanted them to look at me again. And now I can never go back to how it was before. Everything changed that night."
"... Are you regretting what you did?" Nathanael asked, trying to remain calm, but the width of his eyes and the tremble to his voice gave away the fact that he was stirred up from what Ron had told him.
"If I had known from the beginning what was going to happen," Ron started and paused briefly, as if to consider his next words. "I might've opted to stay in my bed instead of rushing after Harry. Because I'm a baby and a coward. But now, after I've seen how my own family reacted to it all... I'm not sorry. I'm sad, yes. But I'm here now, and I'm not sorry." His voice cracked and the redhead turned away from the vampire prince.
Nathanael didn't say anything. Ron didn't blame him. What could he possibly say to make Ron feel better? There was no way he could understand how Ron felt. Being born and raised as a vampire, Nathanael probably didn't even understand what it meant to have a family. Ron closed his eyes and forced the cold air in and out of his lunges. He felt dizzy. He wanted to sleep again. He didn't expect the vampire to say anything more. But he did.
"I have three older brothers. One of them is named Stefan, and we used to be close," Nathanael said in a rather uncaring tone. "Actually, 'close' isn't the right word. I looked up to him more than I looked up to my own father. He was my Idol, and he looked after me whenever I needed it, even though I was young and rash and nothing like him." A crooked smile made its way to Nathanael's lips. "I guess I was a pretty annoying little brother. But he never seemed troubled by it."
Ron didn't open his eyes, but listened intently. He was so tired, all sounds blurred together, except Nathanael's words. They were crystal clear.
"When I was twenty-one, which is young for us, a mere teen... He brought me along to the human world. I was absolutely thrilled. Being so young, I wasn't really allowed to go there yet, but Stefan had asked our father for permission." Nathanael gave a loud sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, as if he was discussing something that irked him a little bit, rather than something important. Ron cracked his eyes open a little bit.
"There's this rule... Trenton decided that if we're going to travel to the human world, we aren't allowed to kill humans. This is because it would stir up unwanted attention and everything would just turn complicated and troublesome. We can drink from humans, yes. But never kill. And even if we drink from humans, we need damned good reasons to do so."
"This is seriously messing up the mental image I've had of vampires my whole life. You make it sound like you're all angels," Ron murmured and Nathanael gave a semi-amused snort.
"Don't forget that these are just Trenton's rules - not laws of the vampire society. But since we've lived in Trenton's house since I was little, these rules applied to us." His smile paled a little and he turned to the floor with a shrug. "I hadn't understood that Stefan was one of those who thought that rules are meant to be broken. We went to London, and he told me that... Since I was growing up, we'd do something great together. So we went out and found ourselves a woman in an alley."
"Why are there always women in alleys? Shouldn't they have learned their lesson by now? Being alone in an alley at night isn't good."
Nathanael gave a short laugh and Ron smiled a little.
"He killed her."
Ron's smile froze and bronze eyes opened wide, staring but not seeing the floor. Breathing was a task that Ron found himself unable to handle. He felt like crouching, crawling back to his bed, and then sleep for hours. He didn't want to hear this right now. He had his own shit to deal with. And even if Nathanael told him all of this in an effort to comfort him, the vampire wasn't doing a good job. Ron felt cold and clammy and sick. He forced his eyes to turn to his side. Nathanael's smile was intact and incredibly wrong.
"He wanted me to do it, see? But when I refused, being too shocked and too young to understand why anyone would want to break the rules that I had been taught to follow since I was little, Stefan got angry with me. We went back home, and he wouldn't talk to me for a while. I was miserable," Nathanael said and added a small laugh, as if he was talking about something funny that happened last week. "And when Trenton found out what Stefan had done, there was a trial. Stefan talked to me and asked me to lie for his sake. I wanted to lie. I really did. I knew that Stefan would be forced to leave Trenton's house if the truth came out."
Nathanael frowned, as if he had forgotten what happened next. Ron watched him, feeling sleep nudge his mind harder with each passing second.
"But I couldn't lie, because somewhere, deep inside, I knew that Stefan had done something wrong. My image of him drastically changed from being an Idol, to simply being my older brother... who had killed a human woman just for fun. So I told the truth. Stefan was thrown out and moved to Tyrone. But before he moved, he told me straight out that I was a disappointment, and that he no longer considered me his younger brother." Nathanael gave a grin and Ron's gaze darkened.
"Why are you smiling?"
Nathanael's grin turned into a paler smile at the angry tone of Ron's voice. Ron couldn't help it. It was like a wave of fury that turned his insides into a turmoil of frustration and irritation. And he was too exhausted to keep it inside.
"Are you trying to cover up the fact that you're hurting or something? Or are you trying to fool me into believing that you don't care what happened back then? That even though your brother tried to force you into killing a human girl, you don't care at all, and that's why you can sit here and chuckle as if none of that affected you? Trying to act tough? Seriously? Or are you telling me that I should stop feeling shitty, and start laughing at what happened, like you do?"
Ron stood up slowly and ignored Draco and Blaise who were now just a few meters away and could hear everything that he said.
"It's not working. You can act as cool as you like, pretending you think this is all fucking hilarious, but that was just miserable. Your brother was a sick bastard. And I feel sorry for you."
Nathanael had stopped smiling. Ron glared at him with all the energy he could muster. He was pissed. What kind of fucked up attitude was that? If that had been an attempt to seem cool, Ron was disgusted. He didn't care that Nathanael had given him half his blood. Nathanael was an idiot.
"If you were trying to make me feel better, you failed."
Ron watched Nathanael turn his face away, letting black hair fall over his face like a curtain, hiding away. The Weasley grit his teeth and turned around, slowly starting to make his way back to his bedroom. But damnit, although he wasn't as weakened as Draco was, it fucking hurt. His legs screamed for him to stop walking, but he desperately wanted to go to bed. Just a few more steps, and he'd reach the door. Harry had helped him out to the window, but Harry had left to talk to Tom about something. And Blaise was busy holding a panting Draco up.
"Shit..." Ron hissed and reached for the door, which was still a good few inches away.
Strong hands grasped his left arm, brought it up, and placed it around firm shoulders. Ron glared hard at the floor when Nathanael helped him to the door, opened it, and brought Ron inside. Damn it. He didn't want the help of someone who couldn't even take things seriously. Ron usually loved joking and he wasn't exactly known for being the stoic kind of person, but even he knew when it was time to take things seriously. Nathanael closed the door behind them carefully, and Ron tried straining away from him, making it obvious how uncomfortable he was feeling. Nathanael didn't let go.
The vampire led Ronald to the bed where the human quickly released himself from Nathanael and sighed as he carefully sat down on the bed, feeling the sheets cool his burning skin and ease the pain a little. He refused to look at Nathanael, who stood still before him, apparently not intending to leave yet.
"What?" Ron grumbled, sinking further into the mattress, lowering himself towards the pillows. "Did you have something else hilarious to tell me? Your mother passed away or something?"
"I see nothing hilarious in the matter. She died when I was very young."
Ron hissed and shut his eyes tightly, partly from the pain that coursed through him from bringing his body into his bed, and partly from saying something stupidly insensitive. At least Nathanael didn't sound amused anymore.
"Then what is it? I'm tired."
Nathanael didn't say anything, but he took a seat on the chair next to Ron's bed. After almost a minute of uncomfortable silence, Ron forced himself to look at Nathanael. Said vampire was watching the floor with concentration. Black hair framed his pale face. A straight nose. Thin, pale lips. Sharp jaw. Ron mentally snorted.
I guess it's true what they say... All vampires look good."I didn't mean to sound insensitive or disrespectful," Nathanael finally ground out, and Ron blinked, waiting for the vampire to continue. "In my family, we've been taught not to display emotions. People can use it against you."
"... That's fucked up. Don't you have anyone that you trust?"
"Not yet," Nathanael said and gave a sad semi-smile. "I'm still looking for one of those. About my brother..."
"You don't have to force yourself," said Ron and sighed tiredly. He was starting to feel a little guilty. But Nathanael shook his head.
"I'm not. I want you to know that... You're right. There's nothing funny about it. I was a miserable kid. I didn't have a mother, and none of the women that my father had as lovers stayed with us. Stefan was one of the few who really seemed to care. And I think he did care. It's just that we didn't know how different we were. And... He still comes to visit. Although he's not allowed to live here, he can visit to join parties and such sometimes. He was here a few weeks ago, actually." Nathanael paused and swallowed. The corners of his lips trembled, as if they wanted to crack open in a grin to once again hide the pain, but Nathanael didn't smile.
"He never forgets to remind me how much he resents me when he visits. He can choose to completely ignore me, or he can choose to openly display his discontent with me. Last time, he accidently spilled his entire glass of blood over my shirt." Nathanael sighed and rubbed his forehead. "It's generally small stuff. Other people normally don't realize what he's doing, or they pretend not to. And since we're from a respected family... I have to act like nothing is wrong. At least when we're amongst other vampires." He shrugged a little and met Ron's gaze. "It's pretty painful, but I can handle it. I don't know if I told you to make you feel better or not... I'm not good at dealing with stuff like that."
Ron's eyes started to sting a little, as his body demanded him to go to sleep. But Ron couldn't sleep yet.
"For a vampire, you're pretty human."
Nathanael smiled at that and his shoulder shook a little with a gentle chuckle.
"My father tells me I've always been a soft one. Says I got it from my mother. That's probably the difference between my brother and me. He can kill humans for a damned hobby, while I don't exactly dance at the thought of killing someone. I'm a vampire, and just like Trenton, I have my moments of evil, but only when I'm forced to be. Or when I simply feel like it." He smirked a little and cocked his head to the side, making the black hair swing over his shoulder. "I wonder what kind of vampire you will turn out to be. Vampira Magikas are usually less evil than purebloods. Because you used to be human."
Ron attempted to shrug, but he was too tired, and closed his eyes instead.
"Who knows?"
"How are you feeling, by the way?"
"Sleepy."
"That's fine. As long as you don't feel like you're going to die, I guess sleeping is okay." Nathanael grinned. Ron snorted without opening his eyes and smirked a little.
"You have a terrible sense of humor."
"The only quality I got from my father, it seems," was the amused reply and Ron gave a weak laugh before he cracked an eye open.
"Are you going to stay seated there until I fall asleep?"
Nathanael looked surprised for a second, as if he himself didn't understand why he was still sitting next to Ron's bed, but then he pursed his lips and pretended to think about it.
"Yep."
Ron sighed and shook his head weakly before going slack.
"Nothing I can... do about it, I guess..."
Ronald Weasley fell asleep and Nathanael Dragulia stayed seated next to the bed, staring bemusedly at the redhead. How come he had told Ron about his brother? He hated talking about his brother. Stefan wasn't someone Nathanael liked to think about. And yet, Ron had made him spill the entire story, without even forcing it out of him. That was weird. Then again, being yelled at by a weak and exhausted human was also something that didn't happen often.
Nathanael let his gaze wander over Ronald's chest that slowly but steadily rose and sank with every deep breath the teen took. Then the neck, and the fine skin, under which there was plenty of delicious blood. Nathanael could smell it, and it made him shudder a little. If anything, Nathanael was surprised that Ron had let him stay with him. Shouldn't the teen be worried about the fact that he was basically like a living juice-box to Nathanael who just happened to possess a set of sharp canines?
Maybe Ron trusted him?
Nathanael blinked and carefully brought his gaze to Ron's face. It looked peaceful now that the sleep dulled the pain. The skin was quite pale, and the freckles that were strewn across the bridge of Ron's nose stood out more now, than they had before the surgery. Long lashes rested against Ron's cheeks.
Nathanael's mouth had gone dry, and he stood up, deciding it was time to go. He swallowed, shook his head as to clear his mind, and went for the door. He left the room without glancing back to Ron.
He didn't dare to.
Something felt different.
Nathanael didn't know how to handle it.
He wasn't good at dealing with stuff like that.
"You seem to be in a good mood," Harry commented with a slight grin as he walked into Tom's study. Said vampire lord was currently frowning sharply as he read some papers that apparently held bad news. Tom glanced at Harry who walked up to his desk and put his hands on the surface, leaning over to take a look at the papers Tom was reading.
"Oh yes," Tom drawled dryly. "The vampires from Tyrone demands payment for your surgery, and it's not going to cheap. If that's not enough to put me in a good mood, I don't know what would."
Harry sighed and lowered his head before taking a seat on the chair in front of the desk.
"If you're deliberately trying to make me feel bad, you're doing one heck of a job," he muttered and kept his chin low, but carefully lift his gaze to look at his lover. Tom was still reading the papers with a deep frown. "I'm sorry, okay?"
Tom grunted softly, not appearing to be angry, and Harry relaxed. He watched as Tom flipped through the pages, sometimes scribbled something down on another paper, and sighing. Harry bit his lip.
"You want me to make it up to you?" He asked, half playful, half serious. Tom's lips curved into a small smirk, but the older vampire didn't take his eyes off the papers in his hand.
"I'd love to see you try," was the reply and Harry perked up. His semi-surprised expression slowly formed into a dark smirk. The teen stood up in front of the desk and cocked his head to the side. Then he slowly lift his hands to the buttons of his shirt. The first button was undone and Tom's gaze froze on the paper as he realized what Harry was doing. By the time the third button was undone, Tom's gaze finally flickered to Harry's revealed chest. Harry's smile widened. He tossed the shirt aside when all the buttons had been taken care of, and slowly strode to the other side of the desk. Tom's eyes followed his every move.
"Is it working?" Harry murmured and came to stand close to the Riddle. Tom slowly turned his chair to face Harry's stomach, and without a word, he took a gentle but strong grip of Harry's hips, pulling the teen closer and brushed his lips against Harry's abs. Harry's breath hitched slightly, and he mentally cursed. Why was it that every time he tried to seduce Tom, the tables always turned, and he was the one being seduced and reduced to a stuttering, panting heap of want? Tom's lips travelled south and the fire that lingered made Harry go weak.
"Apparently." Tom sighed against Harry's skin, making the younger jerk a little and let out a hiss. Tom smirked and pulled Harry even closer, prompting him to sit in his lap. Harry obeyed and slid his hands over Tom's silk-covered chest, biting his lips as the fabric that kept them apart drove him mad.
"Take it off," Harry demanded and started tugging on the shirt Tom was wearing. After a silent snicker, Tom obliged. White, fine, delicious skin was revealed to Harry who dragged his hands up and down Tom's shoulders and chest. Harry leaned in and placed his lips against Tom's neck, brushing softly, not kissing yet. Tom tensed a little under him, and Harry sighed against the smoothness before opening his mouth and nibbling softly. Tom gave a quiet groan of approval.
Tom placed his hands behind Harry and grabbed him almost harshly, forcing a brief yelp from Harry's throat. But when Tom made Harry's hips roll slowly over his own, Harry almost choked on his own moan. It was maddening. Fire gathered quickly in his groin and foggy clouds of numbing arousal filled his head. His control was rapidly slipping, and Harry didn't make an effort to grasp after it. He leaned in closer and pressed himself against Tom's prodding arousal.
Chests slid against each other and Harry's hands went up to bury themselves in Tom's long hair. He was already panting, already ready. Tom's breath hit his throat and Harry hissed again before shutting his eyes to keep himself from losing his mind completely. He bent down and searched for Tom's lips, and when he found them, a tongue was shoved inside, demanding Harry surrendered. Which Harry did. Tom's tongue slid slowly and hotly against his own, and Harry lost himself to the sensations.
Tom's right hand wandered to their crotches and gave a brief caress to Harry's needy tent before swiftly undoing their pants. Members were forced together and rubbed against each other so suddenly that Harry didn't have time to bite back a yell of want. Tom swallowed it up and smirked against Harry's trembling lips. Harry closed his eyes and completely surrendered. Tom could do whatever he wanted. As long as he continued to give Harry this blinding pleasure, continued to push Harry closer to that edge.
"Oh, god," Harry panted as his hips thrust harder against Tom's skilled hand. It wasn't just the intimate feeling of being touched - it was the closeness. Harry could feel Tom's shaft press against his, and it made him want to weep with suppressed need. A need that slowly started growing into desperation. Harry's hand joined Tom's, and the timid thrusts of their hips became forceful, harder.
Harry wasn't pushed towards the edge anymore - he was being shoved there. His eyes were half-shut, as he glanced at the scene between their stomachs. It was as if his mind didn't register what he was seeing. He could only feel.
And then he felt two sharp teeth bury themselves in the curve between his shoulder and his neck, and his mouth dropped open but no sounds escaped him. His throat had locked itself upon the maddening amount of pleasure crashing over them, shattering the last remaining pieces of Harry's numb mind as the wave of orgasm grabbed a hold of them and threw them far over the edge.
A second wave made them shudder, and Harry's throat unlocked itself. A scream tore itself from his gut, voicing all the sensations he felt that he was unable to express in words. Tom's hands held him so tightly that the sharp nails were about to break skin, and the mouth that was still plastered against Harry purred in delight as it sucked hot crimson fluids from Harry's body.
They slowed down. The powerful thrust became a gentler rock, and soon they stilled completely. Tom let go of Harry neck and licked the wound carefully. Harry, who had shut his eyes during the duration of six or seven seconds of mindnumbling pleasure, slowly opened the green orbs and stared dizzily at Tom. Mouths found each other and they kissed, much softer this time, as if soothing each other, calming each other.
"... So..." Harry said hoarsely and brought their brows together. He was still panting. "Are you in a better mood now?"
Tom grinned tiredly and showed off his canines. There were still traces of Harry's blood on them. Harry shuddered slightly.
"Much better. But those bastards are still demanding too much." A frown reappeared on Tom's forehead and Harry pressed his lips against the wrinkle, feeling the skin smooth out under his lips.
"I'll go check in my piggy bank," Harry said and smiled as Tom's chest shook a little from a soft chuckle.
"Hey, I was wondering..." Harry said as he buttoned his shirt. Tom was already back to reading the documents from Tyrone, looking as if he hadn't just had very passionate sex with his mate.
"What?"
"When will it be time for Ron, Draco and Blaise to get turned?" Harry retook his seat before the desk and Tom put the documents down, putting on a thoughtful expression.
"Well, Weasley and Malfoy haven't recovered yet. We won't be able to do a thing until they've regained their strength."
"Who will turn them?"
"We'll have to ask the Tyrones. But I'd say you'll probably be the one to turn Draco Malfoy, and Nathanael will turn Ronald Weasley."
"Cuz we gave them our blood?" Harry leaned back in the chair, feeling a bit drained. Tom had taken a lot of his blood this time. Not that he minded, but now he felt exhausted. Tom gave Harry a briefly concerned look before continuing.
"Yes. It seems most likely. I don't know who's going to turn Blaise Zabini. None of them were meant to be vampires, so none of them have destined mates. Which means it doesn't really matter as much as it did when we turned you. You needed to drink my blood for it to work. But it's different for them. Honestly, Harry, I don't know."
Harry nodded tiredly and stood up from the chair. Tom followed his movements with obvious concern.
"Did I drink too much?" He asked, worry laced in his otherwise stoic voice. Harry smiled softly and shook his head.
"Nah. I'm just a bit tired. I'm going back to our chamber."
Tom nodded slowly, accepting Harry's words, and went back to reading documents. The frown slowly crept over his features again. Harry gave an amused smile at this and turned around to leave the room. But just as he reached the door, something else struck him. Something disturbing. He turned back to Tom and bit his lip.
"... Will they have to do the tests?"
Tom paused in his concentrated reading and peered at Harry. The serious look on Tom's face made Harry's stomach tighten.
"Every vampire has to do them. You know that, Harry," Tom said, and the tone in his voice was softer now.
Harry's heart slowed down a little as a cold hand gripped it. So Ron would eventually have to kill a human? Would he be able to handle it? Or would he break down, just like Harry had almost done?
Harry gave Tom a bleak smile, nodded, and left the room.
He did not look forward to telling the three humans what they would be forced to do to be accepted into the house of Trenton.
tbc.
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