CW: Mention of situations related to death and abuse. Recurrent suicidal thoughts and certain reflections that may affect the reader's sensitivity.
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"And all his thoughts had turned red: he was unable to think of anything but the warm metallic taste, and the vital effervescence of blood."
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The next part is more complicated to relate than the previous one, that's why I'm going to start by clarifying that I'm not "immortal":
Will I live to be a thousand years old, or even older? Yes. Will I still look twenty? Yes. Can I be beaten up for a long time and recover instantly? Yes.
Yet I am just as vulnerable as the average person. One killing curse and that's as far as I'll go, one lethal car accident, one fire (considering I'm flammable on the side) (hence the reason for vampires' bad reputation with heat/sun).
The longest living vampire lived to be ten thousand years old, at a certain point it's years plus, years minus. He died after his hundredth wife stabbed him in the heart.
That immortality thing is such a strange thing. In itself it means condemning people to watch the people they hold dear, and love die, fade away like foam.
Many people would like to live twice as long to accomplish all their projects, but in my case, we are talking about living indefinitely. To go through all the catastrophes of the world, to see again how we repeat the same mistakes.
That is why I am obliged, if I don't want to go to a mental health hospital, to have sessions with my psychologist and take those pills that make me lie down for hours; so that the idea of suicide is no longer present in my head.
We vampires are the creatures with the highest suicide rates, because if you don't belong to the vampiric upper class (which is a strange pseudo-association) (which I'll talk about later), you're only left with misery.
Honestly, I think I've used up my share of eternity misery.
Anyway, back to the point. Regeneration is real, painful, my greatest strength and weakness. I learned that a few years ago, that maybe it was better when you stayed in bed recovering, rather than going through the torture repeatedly.
I learned it the hard way.
I'm going to need some wine to relive this.
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I'll be honest, the worst tortures are the psychological ones. Those in which they play with your brain and annoy you even at rest time. The physical ones hurt, but it's momentary. I don't even remember the pain of a crucio, and I've been the victim of several. I know I wouldn't want to suffer another one, but that would be much better than the mental.
In between there is one more category; sexual.
What happens when all three are mixed in a banquet?
I didn't fall into madness because of three factors; first, my family, as I was able to endure all that if it assured me that none of my loved ones would bear the same, second, the idea that it was all going to end, that happy days would come, that my life had a hope for a prosperous future, and third; Potter.
Potter. Only him, I didn't care how or where, I took comfort in his person. I remembered our stupid fights that I laughed about in the future.
I was locked up, stripped of my possessions, delegated to be a mere object. I served him, and he could do what he wanted with me, if he wanted to continue living. That was my only option.
He would come to Fridays, wishing Greyback hadn't decided to bring "merchandise". Because those days were the worst, anxiety consumed me from head to toe, I trembled so much that I couldn't even write a word, and my whole mind was reduced to incoherent sentences.
What I can rescue from that period, was how close I became to my mother, she became my shelter, and being the sister of his right hand, I could access the information he was hiding from us.
My aunt was also making slight efforts not to make me suffer, even if it was mere diplomacy, as after a couple of months she stopped trying; however, her last declaration was key.
Greyback would disappear for a full month, moon to moon.
The idea crossed my mother's mind like a flash of lightning, and she instantly got to work.
One morning she appeared with the mandrake leaf under my breakfast plate. She explained that it was just the night of a thunderstorm, and that she would manage to make the rest of the arrangements. He told me with kisses over and over again; don't give up my boy. Don't give up.
I didn't give up.
When the whole process was over, we both looked at each other for a long moment. She didn't believe it, neither did I, but in the end, she smiled at me, we both walked to the basement, being watched by the full moon.
"I hope you are a bird, so you can fly and see the most unexpected things."
I'm not exactly a bird, although I do fly and, in one way or another, it's kind of ironic.
I am a bat; to be expected, isn't it?
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In the eyes of animals all reality is distorted. You think like a human, but problems become so simple, like a fog. Your sight changes, you see new colors and forget the familiar ones.
I remember well that when my mother saw me take the form of an albino bat, a couple of tears fell from her eyes. I fluttered around the basement, as if I were learning to walk again.
You completely lose track of time; minutes are hours or sometimes seconds. It doesn't matter, because as an animal everything is serenity.
My mother yelled at me to transform back. Back to normal, my mother hugged me and gave me countless kisses, an energizing vigor filled my body again, which in a certain time I forgot.
That's the biggest problem being an animagus, that everything is so good that you don't want to go back to being a human. Why do it if I could just escape and live with the bare minimum? Being a human complicates things.
I had two choices: Escape the war or live through it. I always complicate things, but this time I could choose.
My family comes first, so I decided to keep that secret in a pandora's box that I would open as a last resort.
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I was surprised when after so long I saw Potter, Granger and Weasley, in the living room of my "house", Harry with a deformed face and the rest inventing stories of the least credible.
Greyback was with them, who knelt them down in front of me and then walked around behind my back sniffing me.
"Come on, pretty boy" he whispered with his pestilent breath hitting my cheek, "Are they, or aren't they? You know good children are rewarded."
"I... I'm... not... sure" I mumbled turning away from the man.
My aunt grabbed Harry's face with brutality and an unhinged expression. Greyback, on his side, stroked my hair with false tenderness,
"No, they're not." I said firmly
"Are you sure, dear?" Bellatrix asked, "That mark is his scar, isn't it?"
I looked at my mother in distress, but from her expression I knew what she wanted to tell me, " Lie!"
"I don't think so. If it was him, he'd have the lightning bolt, this one doesn't. There's no way it could be Harry."
"What about this pair? "Bellatrix smashed Harry to the ground. Of course, it was him, with his distinctive smell and green eyes. "Red hair, thin and tall, his friend, isn't he?"
"No idea, Aunt, I never saw him with Harry at school. I guess he was shorter, I don't remember."
"And the girl?"
"Who? Hermione? No, no, the real one is someone else, it can't be her."
My aunt muttered a frustrated insult. I felt Greyback's hands cup my chin and then pull away.
"I suppose a crucio might loosen your tongue, girl."
Hermione's screams I still remember, vivid and pained. Harry eventually escaped with the help of our old house elf and took my wand with him. My aunt called the Dark Lord immediately, and after hearing the events, he called me.
I went, crestfallen, ready for punishment. Greyback smiled anxiously, hungry, and my lips were sore from biting them.
"I have one last mission for you, Draco" he said, motioning for me to come closer, I obeyed him, and he stood up and hugged me. He was cold, rough and I didn't reciprocate the touch "of course, if you don't want me to make you disappear, do you accept?"
"Yes..."
"Good boy" he whispered, brushing his forefinger against the bite mark on my neck, "if you do it right, you'll gain allies for life. Or for eternity."
So it was that, after long months, I left home again and for a whole month, before the final battle, to live like a real vampire. Trying to pretend that I was delighted with what I was.
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Vampires are strange, classy, old people trapped in the bodies of teenagers.
To join their select club you have to wear a three-piece suit, patent leather shoes and be willing to drink a human's blood. I had the first two, I could consider myself a vegetarian in that term, at least I was until I joined their group.
They live in their own world, a whole block in the northwest of England, in Manchester. Which was enchanted so that Muggles would see them as almost ruined homes but considered heritage. In reality, there were four buildings facing each other, connected by convoluted corridors and a central roofed courtyard. Each wall had some painting more expensive than the previous one, marble pillars and precious stones embedded in the knob of the pieces.
In each of the four buildings a different atmosphere was felt; in the first one the people were the longest-lived vampires, you could tell by the tiredness in their looks and as if they were just on their five thousandth birthday, the women began to worry about the first wrinkle that adorned their foreheads. They dressed as if they had escaped from a book by Oscar Wilde, with huge dresses, luxurious suits, and tight corsets.
In the second, the goths. Millenniums, maybe a little older. I never related too much to them because they were too extreme, to the point of not accepting any other kind of blood than human.
The third, was the chick building, where I was and all the vampires who had just received the bite or had not yet reached their first millennium. The vast majority did not possess magic, as they came from a Muggle origin who, after being imprisoned to drink their blood, managed to survive as infected.
Finally, the fourth building possessed those who controlled this vampiric society. With a minister who had been in power for almost two millenniums and determined who entered that association. In that building I learned that the boy for whom I received the bite was the minister's youngest son.
When I refer to sons, I mean the youngest of about ten of them.
He had only one chance to get into the building. He only wanted information from them for his favor, and if I failed, he was sure that the only thing he would do, would be to murder me.
"Name and date of his transformation."
Whether I was lying or not, I decided to go with the truth to save myself problems in the future. I think it was the best option, vampires always find out the whole truth, no matter what.
By the time I met the minister, president, monarch or whatever he was (actually not even the vampires themselves were too clear about it), he possessed a smirk on his lips. Static behind the desk, he held my file open. His fangs and eyes glittered, eager for my story, which I didn't reveal to him because he never asked.
"A Malfoy in our midst... who knew, huh? "He muttered, lighting a cigar. Even though we're flammable, one learns not to get burned. "Interesting, I've heard the rumors, you know, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has them eating out of his hand, is that true?"
"I came here to integrate among you" I said, sternly. "My past no longer matters to me; I want to focus on how I want to spend the rest of my existence."
The man let out a laugh, letting out all the smoke, stepped away from the desk and stretched out a hand toward me.
"You're an interesting boy, Malfoy," he commented "but I need a guarantee of your sincerity. If you don't have it, I can't do anything for you; you're too young, a newborn, I'd say."
"The world is changed and if you don't want to fade away you must adapt. What serves as a guarantee?"
"Impress me."
The man sat back in his leather chair, I did the first thing that came to my mind, adopt my animagus form Is there anything more vampiric than that? The man himself looked pleased and then nodded.
"Building three, Malfoy" he determined, sucking more of the cigar, "I'll tell my son you've arrived, I always thought he lied to me when he told me about biting a Malfoy." I frowned and felt myself trembling, I couldn't stand up any longer. "Wait, before you go, I warn you, if I find out that you want to set up some kind of coup d'état, my dear, I'll see to it that you see the sunlight myself. Have fun!"
I left that office with bated breath. At least I didn't have to sign anything, as contracts are made from the century, but I only spent a month there.
To be honest, one of the best months of my life.
That's the problem.
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I met Nathaniel that same night, he looked the same as the first time I saw him, he only changed his haircut, but he was still stupidly handsome.
"Are you still afraid of storms?"
Those were his first words in our reencounter, his voice was almost seductive mockery, and for the first time I noticed the slight crimson tone of his eyes. I shook my head, avoiding eye contact for more than five minutes, there was something about him that reminded me of Harry. Most likely it was his skin tone, (he was dark but pale kind of sickly) Plus he wore glasses.
Although, in retrospect, they were nothing alike, only in that they both had danger-seeking tendencies.
He reached out and put his hand on my cheek, it was cold, but the contact didn't take more than a few seconds.
"You're lacking vitamins, Draco, how long has it been since you've had a drink?"
I bit my lip, refusing to talk to him, I wasn't afraid of him, but I was afraid of getting attached to him anyway. Of the person who "ruined" my life.
"Come on, don't be silly. No one here can avoid my questions, in fact, many people would like me to talk to them, you know?"
"I don't need the help of a sadist" I replied. I hadn't tasted a drop of blood for weeks, of course I was thirsty, but I was sure that when the night came, I would escape to hunt some domestic animals. "I'm off."
"Nathaniel Van Gould" he said, stretching out his hand, "that's my name, Draco. A bit old-fashioned, I know, but for being born in the mid-nineteenth century, it's not bad. My older brother's name is Romulus, and no, it has nothing to do with the founding of Rome."
I couldn't help but laugh, making Nathaniel achieve his purpose. Then I rolled my eyes and shoved my hands inside my pockets, to avoid shaking his hand. I stepped forward and replied.
"You're sick in the head, you're like a hundred and something years old."
I continued on my way, not knowing that the boy would start to become part of my day-to-day life.
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He enjoyed playing the piano, gambling, and A+ blood. He was a brat, something that rubbed off on him from being the last son, who was raised by a wet nurse and three housekeepers. Nathaniel wasn't a witch, nor was he interested in magic, he said it was best not to get involved with the magical world because it was all going to hell.
Nathaniel's problem was that he didn't cut any corners.
Every night, he would come to my room (which was no bigger than my old room in the mansion, decorated in shades of red and black), to invite me to dinner.
A vampire's conception of "dinner" is to go out hunting for some drunken young men who, not being in their five senses, were easy prey to suck dry. After two weeks of the same routine, where he would arrive, dressed in a suit and his gawking smile, and I would again refuse, he let out a frustrated sigh and entered my room uninvited.
"Why don't you ever drink blood, do you want to kill yourself?" Nathaniel growled, closing the thick curtains. "Everyone's talking about a blond vampire, who only comes down to hang out in the library and playing bingo with the ladies. It's obvious it's you.
"I'm a vegetarian."
He let out a laugh, and then sat down in front of the TV, but when he turned it on it only showed static, because its waves were colliding with my magic.
"I've never heard of vegetarian vampires, that doesn't exist." he declared, slamming the TV "Damn, since when do you not have a TV? You're not going to tell me you don't watch TV either" He turned around and, seeing how I shrugged his shoulders, opened his eyes in surprise. "Are you really, all right?
"I only drink animal blood and the TV isn't broken, I'm a wizard, remember?" He opened his mouth and then frowned, not understanding the last analogy. "My magic collides with the electromagnetic waves of the TV, that's why it can't be seen, at least it won't until I cast some kind of spell on it. Honestly, I don't care much about that either."
"You're more interesting than you look, Draco" Nathaniel said, approaching my bed. "Kind of scrawny, young, and "vegetarian" if you can call it vegetarianism. What else are you hiding?"
"Nothing that interests you."
"My father told me you could turn into a bat, show me!"
I looked at him for a second, however, I decided to narrow down his request because I like to take my animagus form. When I wasn't playing bingo with the ladies, or reading in the giant library, I spent my time as a bat in those four walls, upside down, trying to ignore the loneliness.
When you become an animagus, your clothes have to do with what you look like. Since I was wearing a black suit and a red tie (since that was the "casual" clothing for vampires), it looked like the bat had a very peculiar design on the fur. I approached Nathaniel who kept looking at me, very amazed.
I returned to normal on top of the bed, with a smile on my lips.
"Awesome."
"I thought vampires could turn into bats at will."
"Only in the movies, yours is unique!"
At those last words, I got out of bed and opened the curtain a little. The sun's rays were so light that they didn't get in at all, and I stared at the cityscape.
"What's wrong?"
I missed my family, this was not like going to Hogwarts knowing that I was going to see them on vacations, here nothing was certain, and I felt bad knowing that I was having a better time than my parents.
"Nothing," I replied, closing the curtain, "it's about time for you to go."
Nathaniel came up from behind me, his hands lining my back, up to my waist, and put his head on my neck. We're both about the same height, so it wasn't awkward, and that contact seemed made for us.
"This is wrong, I mean, in theory you're my killer," I pleaded, being ignored. You should leave."
I turned, pressing my body against the curtain, which Nathaniel pulled back into place. His right hand clutched at the fabric and his left, at the edge of my belt. His eyes looked at me thirstily, as if I were his prey.
"We are called "sons of sin" for a reason, Draco," he whispered, feeling his breath on my face. "We have a certain tendency to..."
"Do evil."
I closed my eyes by the time Nathaniel kissed me, he was passionate and full of experience, knowing by heart all the ways to dominate the other person with a simple gesture. He broke away with his smug face encompassing my entire field of view, waiting for me to respond.
And I did.
That was my first time, in a consensual way, with the other boy's body pressed against mine, feeling him always return to the bite he gave me years ago for light kisses. He bit me again, and I bit him, realizing that vampire blood is not at all delicious.
He turned on the music, and I began to laugh. He kissed me again, countless times, trying to imagine that this boy so obsessed with defiling and possessing me; it was Harry.
The next morning, when we went downstairs, he showed me the part of the building I was missing. The casino where he was a premium member for having spent millions, the pool and the indoor garden where only a select few could enter.
I met his brothers, his only sister, and her husband, all of whom had an old-fashioned beauty, the kind you recognize in black and white or sepia photographs. Then, in the evening, Nathaniel did not invite me to dinner, because he showed me his room, as majestic as a Victorian house and with a Jacuzzi.
I could boast that I never accepted an invitation from Nathaniel for "dinner," but I did not. In fact, I was almost forced, but I decided to kid myself that, if I was to do the whole experience, it was necessary to pass on that part.
What I feared most, when I drank human blood for the first time, was not having self-control.
I was right.
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She was young, with the shortest miniskirt in the world, a strong smell of perfume, but she was ugly. Her nose was crooked, her makeup was running, she was overweight. Nathaniel hunted her for me, and I just had to sink my teeth into her, I didn't even get a look when I heard him snap her neck and lay her down on the side of the sidewalk, like it was nothing. Because in part, it was nothing to him.
"I'm not sure" I said, kneeling down beside him.
Nathaniel dug his teeth into her neck (saying that was the softest part and that's why they were biting there).
"It's b negative, quite rare, but kind bitter" he answered with a drop of blood on his lips, "come on, try it."
"I don't want to."
He ran his hand through his hair and bit the girl again, to take me by surprise and give me a kiss. The young girl's blood filled my four senses, the adrenaline intoxicated me, I had never tasted anything like that. It was exquisite, a total bomb.
He got up standing next to the wall with a victorious look on his face. I threw myself on top of the woman, crying but unable to stop drinking. I only broke away because Nathaniel forced me to, wiping away the blood that remained on my lips.
"Unexperienced as a child," he mentioned "come on let's go, before it looks too unnatural."
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I discovered in that instance, how unambiguous vampires really are; they love to party, drugs, sex and alcohol. They like to appear refined and elegant, however, they are quite the opposite.
I only attended one of their many parties held at the event hall. Almost every day there was something to celebrate, someone's birthday, a couple's 500th anniversary, or the strange and complicated birth of a child.
I also realized that older vampires hate to be called old and their recipe for eternal youth is to repeat the mistakes of the past. Monogamy was almost a stupid limitation, I met a vampire who that year was celebrating her sixteen hundredth year of being single, after having been married for seventy years. She was straight with me.
"There is no such thing as one true love, it is a lie" She commented, crossing out one of her bingo numbers "Marriage is a good experience that I would not repeat. My husband was not a vampire and he died old, very old and ugly. It's been decades since we had sex because he didn't want to. Men get heavy after so many years" she explained. I looked at her face, you could tell she was in her thirties, maybe thirty-five, but no more. "At least he was well off, in those days they married the prettiest girls into good families, regardless of the lady's opinion."
"How did your husband die?" I asked, crossing out a number from my own bingo.
Talking about death for vampires is so natural, I had to get used to using that word.
"He accidentally fell from the seventh floor at ninety." she answered. Then I heard the last number and saw a woman get up from her seat, "Damn you, Katherine, let's stop talking about that asshole's ghost! That he's making me lose."
I knew that when he wasn't at the casino or with me, Nathaniel was spending it with different women lovers, but he assured me that I was the only guy. As if that meant some kind of privilege.
I also learned that real vampires don't want anything to do with the magical world, the more distanced; the better.
Finally, I realized that receiving letters by owl was as unusual as claiming to have been monogamous for a thousand years. Most vampires who were witches either had their entire family already dead or hid that fact to avoid trouble. Letters were delivered by vampire mail, a job given to hapless vampires who were not wealthy enough to afford a room, but still wished to be part of the community.
The letter was from my mother, mentioning how worried she was that she hadn't heard from me in weeks, asking me to come back soon, because things were at an all-time high and she wanted me to be near them in any context.
I grabbed the feather and went blank for a couple of minutes in front of the paper. I knew I should write to her that everything was okay, that I would be leaving as soon as possible to return and that I loved them all.
The problem was that I didn't want to leave that place. Everything was so good, comfortable, and beautiful. Nathaniel made me feel safe, emphasizing that no matter what happened, he was going to be there for me first as a friend and then as a lover (since he was refusing to bond with one person for eternity). You could enjoy bingo, endless books, going to tea with the vampires and pretending they were normal, except that we have to feed on blood, a couple of times a month.
Compared to my life at Malfoy Manor, it was all unbelievable.
Despite possessing the words, and knowing exactly what my mother wanted to hear, I ended up taking two full days to assimilate that I had to go back.
It was then that I understood the reason why He sent me on this mission. Because even if he achieved his mission to dominate the entire magical world, he could never do it with the vampires, that was why no one wanted to get involved with him, since they would lose the freedom that his mission would not give them.
Vampires were the only creatures that were capable of refusing Him, without a massacre involved.
I drafted the letter and before sending it to him I called Nathaniel.
"I am leaving."
"But you've been here for about a week." he said, dumbfounded. I had been here for more than a month, but for vampires that's nothing. "Friday is Jessica's birthday (she turns five hundred) and Sunday is Maximiliano's birthday."
"I don't care, I have to go" I said, showing her the sealed letter. "They need me at home."
"Home? This is your house. Ties don't matter!" He exclaimed "If you want, I can go and convert your mother and father, and then you wouldn't have to leave, would you? "
"It doesn't work like that, Nathaniel! My world, it's going to hell! I know you don't understand! But this is the place where I grew up, my real home, this is just an illusion."
Nathaniel bit his lip and then walked over to the desk, slowly. He pulled out a sheet of paper and drafted a long letter. I just looked at it, not saying anything about it.
"All right, get out, but you'll always have a place to come back to here, understand? I'll make sure your place stays as it is. Go save the world, or whatever it is you need to do! But take a walk once in a while, okay?"
I nodded and we both left the place; I sent the letter and waited a day before I received a reply letter that just said:
«Hurry up! »
