The Vampire and the Rhadamanthus
Spye
Disclaimer: Not Mine
AN: My mythology obsession got away from me. Thanks to Bethary, my beta. Slash eventually.
The only thing Draco Malfoy remembered from being bitten was a cold voice warning him, "Do not go back to Hogwarts now that Harry Potter has come of age." He hadn't understood at the time, and he had, thoughtlessly, returned anyway. Now he understood. Now, kneeling at the feet of Harry Potter. At the feet of Rhadamanthus Harry Potter, confessing himself a vampire. To a Rhadamanthus, a Judge, who judged all magical creatures instinctively, and any person the Judge chose to consciously. Merlin, he was such a fool.
He'd been bitten over the summer, early enough that he'd had time to get used to the changes in him, to having to drink blood to live, before he started school again. He'd been so sure that no one would have to know, that he could graduate and leave before anyone found out about him, having worked desperately to overcome the barrier the sun imposed until he had the ring he now wore on his hand for protection. Regardless of the warning he had received from the vampire who turned him, he hadn't been willing to give up his education. Besides, the night was so hazy he'd been able to convince himself that he'd imagined hearing it at all.
Of course, just seconds before the train started moving, he'd felt the pull. He'd started to follow it, not understanding what it was, sure that his vampire near-invincibility could protect him. By the time he found the source of the draw, he was already too much in its power to run. He'd taken one look in Potter's knowing, deep green eyes and known. His archenemy was a Rhadamanthus. The Rhadamanthi took their name from the Greek Judge of the Dead because judging was what they did. Any magical creature, vampires included, would be drawn to a Rhadamanthus once the Judge came of age. Suddenly, too late, the warning he'd received made sense. Just in time for Potter to notice his presence. Still in the thrall of the Rhadamanthi powers, he had knelt in front of the Gryffindor. Though he fought with his entire mind not to speak, he felt his lips part, saying, "I, Draco Malfoy, vampire and wizard, come to the Rhadamanthus for judgment." Only when the fateful words had been spoken did he regain control, just in time to bow his head and await condemnation. He saw no way out of the mess he was in, and he refused to meet Potter's eyes.
"Well, Malfoy," Potter said softly. "What have we here?"
Draco scowled. "Please, Potter, don't tell me you don't know what you are. Even a moronic Gryffindor . . ."
"You're not helping your case, Malfoy," Potter interrupted. "I know perfectly well what I am. I was curious, though. Since when are you a vampire?"
"I was bitten this summer," Draco gritted, knowing that lying was useless. The Rhadamanthus would know if he did, and he was in enough trouble as it was. "Why does it matter?"
"It matters. Have you killed since then?"
Draco blanched. "Yes," he whispered. If being Potter's rival hadn't been enough to condemn him, this surely would.
"How many have you killed?"
"Three."
"How did they happen?"
"The night after I was bitten." Draco clenched his hands into fists. "I tore them apart in a blood lust," he finished, grateful that his voice didn't shake. Waking up in that mess had been something out of his worst nightmares.
"Malfoy. Look at me."
Reluctantly, Draco obeyed. He knew his eyes were haunted with the memories. "I was sick for days after I saw what I did, refusing to feed for a month, despite how it weakened me. Maybe it doesn't help any, but you should know that it did-does-bother me. "
Potter nodded curtly. "Get up. Go back to your compartment. Act normally. I'll deal with you after the feast. Meet me in the Great Hall."
Draco obeyed. As he started to close the door behind himself, Potter added, "And Malfoy, don't feed. Your sentence will be much, much worse if I sense fresh blood on you."
Draco nodded curtly and stalked away. He was preoccupied all through the train ride and the feast. His fellows tried to talk to him, but he brushed them off, not wanting to deal with anyone until he knew what was happening to him. Potter, as a Rhadamanthus, could sentence him to anything. He wasn't looking forward to it, and after the feast, he reluctantly dragged himself over to where Potter waited, the two the only ones left in the Hall. "Potter," he acknowledged curtly, determined not to let on how frightened he was.
"Malfoy. Do you, as a vampire and a wizard, acknowledge that I, as a Rhadamanthus, have the right to judge you?"
"Yes."
"Good. Come with me... There's no need to be so terrified. I'm not going to kill you, or order you killed."
The Gryffindor walked out of the Hall before the vampire could reply, even to protest that he wasn't afraid, and Draco quickly followed. He noted with surprise that this was the way he thought led to Gryffindor Tower, but he didn't mention it. He had no idea how the other would react. He did, however, watch avidly, marking the path they took. If he got out of this somehow, the information could be extremely useful. Likewise, he took note of the password spoken to the portrait when he assumed they'd arrived.
The Common Room was empty. Potter sat down, watching the flames for a while. "What had you intended to do this year?"
Draco shifted on his feet; not daring to sit down in enemy territory, sure that he was going to be jumped on any minute. "I had planned to finish my schooling. I would have fed from my Housemates, from my friends, whom I could trust with the knowledge of what I am because I hold equally dangerous secrets about them. I would not have killed. I'll never, never kill again if I don't have to."
The room was silent for close to an hour as Potter thought about the answer. Finally, he said, "Admirable sentiments. It's almost a pity you won't need them. Come."
Again, Draco didn't have time to answer, to question, or to protest. He was left following, not wanting to raise his voice and attract attention to himself almost as much as he didn't want to anger the Rhadamanthus. So he followed, into what he presumed was the Seventh year dormitory. Four of the beds were occupied, and Potter sat down on the fifth. "Kneel at the foot of the bed and bow your head."
"Potter, I-"
"Do it."
Draco obeyed. He heard a whispered word and felt something form around his neck. Something drew his wrists together behind his back and bound them there. Something bound his ankles so that he couldn't stay upright and fell on his side on the floor. Last, something materialised in his mouth, gagging him. He looked up at the Gryffindor, working desperately at the metal between his teeth, his eyes asking the questions he couldn't voice. He could feel the manacles binding his wrists and ankles, and from his awkward position, he could see a very short chain leading from what he presumed was a collar around his neck to the nearest bedpost.
Potter met his gaze evenly. "I'll take out your gag and help you get more comfortable if you agree not to wake my roommates."
Draco nodded, grimacing as the gag bit into his mouth when he tried to speak.
Draco couldn't see what Potter did after the Gryffindor got off the bed, but he felt the gag in his mouth disappear with a vengeance. Relieved, he licked his lips, his fangs forming at the taste of blood. Ruthlessly, he pushed the hunger back. He'd fed the night before; he could go for longer than this without blood.
He jumped when he felt hands on him, shifting him carefully as far away from the bed as his leash-chain would permit, which wasn't more than seven tenths of a metre. He was left still for a moment, his limbs screaming at him, before he was lifted and placed on what felt like a cot, letting the chain loosen so his neck wasn't being jerked so painfully. He was helped into the most comfortable position possible with the bonds on him, and Potter sat down cross-legged in front of him.
"You haven't passed judgement," Draco whispered, his voice as quiet as he could make it. He did not want to have the gag in his mouth again.
"No, I haven't," the Rhadamanthus agreed. "But that is my right. From the time you came to me to judge you until the time I sentence you, you are in my power. Are you comfortable?"
The vampire considered. Finally, he said, "Yes, reasonably. My arms are going to cramp in this position, and I'm going to get stiff from not being able to move, but no amount of shifting me on this cot is going to change that. And," his voice turned bitter, covering misery, "as you just pointed out, I'm in your power. How long are you going to keep me here?"
"That is my concern, not yours, Malfoy." Potter murmured something that Draco recognised as a sleep charm, and the vampire couldn't fight it, his eyes closing moments later.
When Draco woke the next morning, the dorm was empty, and he could see from where he lay that it was late morning. The first thing he noticed, his mind still hazy from sleep, was that his gag was back. That was enough to wake him completely, unfortunately causing him to try to sit up. Not only was he unable to, but his body was so stiff that the effort hurt all the more. When the pain had subsided slightly, he tried to take stock of the situation without moving.
The most prominent thing, in Draco's mind, was that he hadn't moved. He could feel that the manacles on his wrists and ankles were still present and accounted for, not to mention the collar on his neck. He was gagged again, but he was still on the cot. He was grateful for that at least; it was much, much more comfortable than being dumped haphazardly on the floor. Resigning himself to being unable to move or speak at least until Potter came back; he next noticed that his clothes had been changed. Instead of the familiar roughness of his uniform, he was dressed in something soft and warm, probably flannel. It felt like pyjamas. He had to admit, whatever he'd been dressed in, however he'd been dressed in it, was more comfortable than what he'd been wearing the previous night.
Trapped with nothing to do, he dozed off and on until Potter returned that evening, shortly before dinner if he was given a guess. Seeing he was awake, the Gryffindor sat down next to him.
"I came up to check on you before going to dinner. I thought you deserved a bit of an explanation for what's going to be happening with you, fun as it would be for Ron and me to watch you flounder. First thing is that I don't trust you at all. It's not just that you're a vampire; it's my experience with you over the years. So whenever I'm not here, you'll be bound and gagged like this. No matter what, you'll be on that leash. I won't have you feeding on my friends. You're immortal. Depriving you of blood may make you uncomfortable, but it won't kill you. Today, with the sleep spell on you, I let you sleep in. From now on, I'll wake you when the rest of us get up. You'll have ten minutes alone in the bathroom, relatively unhindered, to take care of anything you need to do. This includes showering, brushing your teeth, and anything else you can come up with. It isn't long, but the rest of us need the bathroom in the mornings too. As I already said, during the day you'll be left exactly as you are
now. At night, if you're good, I'll remove the gag. Being good involves not fighting with my friends or irritating my dorm-mates. You're in their space. Our space. It's up to you to make sure you're as little a nuisance to them as possible. Do you understand?"
Draco nodded bitterly, closing his eyes.
"Good. I'm going down to dinner."
Watching the Gryffindor walk out of his line of vision, Draco chewed his gag angrily, trying to get it to yield. He couldn't even dent the metal between his teeth. Furious, he refused to acknowledge anyone who came into the room, even after dinner when Potter came back and removed the gag. He kept his eyes stubbornly closed and concentrated on remembering what he'd studied in the seventh year textbooks over the summer. He kept it up for a week while those who shared the dorm with Potter danced around him, uneasy at having a vampire, particularly Draco Malfoy, in their room. Every day that passed, he hated the chains that he wore more.
In the mornings, he would be shaken awake and gagged before the manacles released him and Potter lead him to the bathing room by the chain on his collar. Even the first time, he was so stiff that he could barely move. The next days, it only got worse.
His fangs had become a constant presence in his mouth as his hunger increased. He had known they would, his experience from when he refused to feed over the summer useful for something, but they made the gag even more uncomfortable. Luckily, there hadn't been a drain on his strength. It hadn't been long enough yet. Yet, he knew, being the operative word.
After a week, however, he hadn't even been able to walk on his own when Potter had taken him to let him shower in the morning. It was a Sunday, at least, so the Gryffindor had time beyond his usual ten minutes. Potter ran a tub full of water and helped Draco wash, surprisingly gently, although the other boy's presence meant that he was fully chained. Draco didn't care how gentle the other had been; he was humiliated. Lying on his cot all day, he decided that when Potter got back, he was going to give in and talk to the Rhadamanthus. The silent treatment certainly wasn't helping his situation. Not that he had much hope that talking would either, but Potter was a Gryffindor. Surely he could get a little mercy.
He dozed off and on all day, not wanting to think about the classes he'd missed the previous week. Thinking about them would lead to thinking about the fact that he was unlikely to be permitted to attend classes for the rest of the year. The whole reason he'd come back to school was that he wanted to graduate, and now it was highly unlikely that he'd be able to. It was highly unlikely that he'd be able to do anything with his life; being chained to the foot of a Rhadamanthus' bed was not his idea of living.
He woke to the feeling of his gag being removed, and he licked his lips to moisten them. "Potter," he said quietly, voice hoarse from disuse and the discomfort of being gagged.
"Malfoy. Did you want something? I assume so, since you're deigning to speak with me for the first time in a week."
"Do I want something?" He laughed bitterly. "What don't I want? I want not to be a vampire. I want to be able to feed, so my fangs will go away and I'm not constantly hungry. I want to be able to go to my classes. I want not to be gagged everyday. I want not to be in pain every minute, to be able to walk when you let me take a shower, to be able to move without your help, which is why I'm talking to you. Potter, I can't see you."
The Gryffindor sat down in front of the vampire. "Now you can. Explain."
"You are too courteous," Draco muttered sarcastically. "Don't you think all the chains you keep me bound with are a bit of overkill? The collar is enough to ensure I can't leave, and the gag makes it so I couldn't spell-cast even if I got my hands on a wand, unlikely though that is. Not to mention I can't bite someone with it in. The manacles are completely unnecessary."
"You would trade your freedom from the gag at night to have the manacles off permanently?"
"I don't think the gag is necessary either, but yes." He hesitated. Finally, he continued, "But I don't want to lose my voice. Will you talk to me for a little while in the evenings, just an hour? I don't care if you keep your wand trained on me, but I don't want to lose my ability to function if you ever decide to release me."
"I'll see what I can do, Malfoy, but I make no promises." He stood up, walking out of Draco's line of sight.
The vampire scowled as he felt the gag placed back in his mouth, but a moment later, the manacles were gone. He moved slowly, trying to remind his muscles what they were for. Finally, he managed to turn over and locate Potter. He watched the other boy prepare for bed cautiously, uncertain of why the Gryffindor was allowing him this.
Still, time passed. Draco took advantage of the times he was permitted to talk to the Gryffindor and asked about classes. During the day, now that he was able to move about a little, he studied whatever textbook he was allowed. He was able to stand up and walk a couple of small steps, the end of his chain-leash that was attached to the bed post loose enough to ride up or down the post to suit his position.
His new 'freedom' made the rest of the dorm even more wary of him than they had been before, but the fear gradually eased. Weasley taunted him about how the mighty had fallen, and Finnigan laughed at the taunts and at him. They never said anything when Harry was in the room, so he couldn't respond to the jibes. He tried not to let on exactly how painfully accurate some of them were, and how much they embarrassed him.
As time passed, his hunger got worse. He was constantly aware of blood whenever anyone was in the room with him. Gradually, slowly, the starvation began to affect him. He got thinner over time until his every bone pressed against his skin. His strength began to fade until he was only as strong as an ordinary wizard, then weaker still. Harry had continued to bathe him on Sundays, and by February, that was the only bath he got, not strong enough to take a shower himself anymore. Still, he refused to beg for blood. He still had his pride.
By the middle of April, he had to be helped even to sit up. He still studied feverishly, but it was the most he could do to turn the pages. He looked like an animated bundle of sticks, and he knew it.
At the end of April, when he couldn't turn the pages in the books for himself, he knew that there was only so long that he could keep his pride, and he was at that breaking point. He hadn't fed for eight months, and he desperately needed blood. If he could just feed... his strength would return. The last day of April was a Sunday, and Draco had given up being embarrassed by any aspect of being bathed by the Gryffindor. He weakly raised his hands, trying to remove the gag while the tub filled.
Potter turned and noticed what he was doing. "All right." He took the gag out. "You're unlikely to do anything to me right now. You can't bite me without my permission, and there's no one else in the Tower."
"Thank you," Draco whispered. He closed his eyes, resting for a moment, gathering what little strength he had. "Potter, I need blood."
"You're a vampire. That's obvious."
Draco opened his eyes, looking straight at Harry, forcing the other boy to see how sunken they were, to look at his emaciated face. "I have not fed for eight months, Harry. I'm starving. You've seen how weak I am. Please. I'll give you anything, I'll do anything, if you'll just let me feed." He couldn't help it; bloody tears began to slip down his face. "Please. Please, please let me feed."
"You drink blood, Malfoy. You feed on what humans need to live."
"I know! Merlin, Harry, I know. But I don't have to kill, and this is all but killing me."
"You have killed to feed."
Draco started to sob weakly, the tears flowing faster. "And I'm sorry. I didn't want to. Please, forgive me that. Please forgive me and let me have blood."
"I'll let you feed, give you a bit of freedom, and let you return to classes, but there is a price."
"For what price? I swear; I'll do anything."
"The price being that the blood you drink is mine."
Draco nodded without hesitation. He knew what that meant; to drink the blood of a Rhadamanthus would change his digestive system so that he couldn't digest normal human blood ever again. He'd be bound to the Gryffindor in order to feed forever. Harry would survive it; Rhadamanthi had a regenerative supply of blood and immunity to the bite of any magical creature. They were even harder to kill than vampires, so Draco wouldn't be deprived of his food supply by old age. It meant that he'd be completely dependant on the Gryffindor, but it would be better than the position he was in now. "I know the price you ask, and I accept it."
"All right. Let me get you clean first."
Draco was silent through his bath, resting with his eyes closed. When he was dry and dressed again in his pyjamas, he murmured, "I'll sleep after this. I don't know for how long, but please don't wake me. My body needs to recover, and to adjust to your blood." He trailed off, letting his eyes flutter closed. He felt the Gryffindor lift him gently into a comfortable lap, and his lips pressed against the tender skin of Harry's neck. He opened his mouth and weakly bit down, barely hard enough to get the blood he needed. But as he started to feed, he got slightly stronger. He bit again, harder, to increase the flow. The blood and the gentle hands holding his weak body so that he could feed were all he knew, and he didn't remember when he stopped drinking and fell asleep.
When he woke, the dorm room was dark. It was late, probably past midnight. To his surprise, he was lying in someone's embrace, in one of the four posters instead of on a cot, chained to the bedpost. The arms tightened around him, and he jumped.
"Welcome back, Draco," Harry whispered quietly.
"I-Harry?"
"Yes. What a wonder, to see the Malfoy heir speechless. There's no need to chain you. If you anger me, you won't be able to feed. You won't bite any of my friends because they can't feed you. You're safe to allow some freedom."
"Thank you," Draco said after a long moment.
"You're welcome. I told the professors. They're expecting you back in classes, starting as soon as you woke up. They'll give you any extra tutoring you need, but I think that I did a fair job helping you keep up. You've also memorised the books by now, surely."
Draco smiled slightly. "Yes."
"Good."
The rest of the year passed quickly. Draco revelled in his freedom, despite being around Harry all the time. He wasn't chained to the foot of a bed. Just about anything would have been an improvement. Being permitted to return to classes and feed certainly was. He blamed how happy he was on that, not wanting to look deeper. He assured himself that it was only the blood lust that made him enjoy being held in Harry's lap for feeding. His inexplicable periods of depression when the other boy didn't have time for him he blamed on the fact that he'd been starved so long that his fangs hadn't disappeared when he'd fed, or that he was having trouble catching up in his classes when he wasn't. He didn't want to think anymore about it.
He was forced to deal with the issue when Weasley threw it in his face. He had been studying in the dorm room, sprawled on Harry's bed. The redhead had come in, sneering about how much he must wish that the bed's owner were in it with him.
He had turned red, starting to shout at Weasley, when Harry himself walked in. "Ron, I need to talk to Draco. Alone."
The redhead scowled but left.
Draco turned away, burying his nose in his textbook and refusing to meet the Rhadamanthus' eyes.
"So Draco. It's true."
"Don't." He turned, pleading grey eyes meeting green.
"You're in love with me."
"I'm not!" Draco protested desperately, but he was remembering how much he enjoyed being able to sit in Harry's lap to feed, being bathed by the other boy every Sunday, the little kindnesses while he was chained, moments when he was half asleep and he heard the Gryffindor tell Weasley to leave him alone, and the sweet, impossible taste of the Rhadamanthus' blood. His face crumbled, and he pleaded, "I'm not."
"This is a fine mess we're in. A vampire in love with the Rhadamanthus he's bound to."
Draco started to cry, for the second time that year, and felt disgusted with himself but unable to stop.
"And a Rhadamanthus in love with his bound vampire."
The vampire looked up, hopeful for one moment, but Harry shook his head. "No, Draco. This doesn't change anything between us. You're still a vampire, and I'm still a Rhadamanthus. Nothing can change that."
"Don't want your image tarnished by screwing a vampire?" Draco asked bitterly. "Or is it just that it's me?"
Harry didn't answer, simply walking out of the room.
Draco slept on the cot again that night, for the first time that May. He wasn't chained, but there was no way he was sharing a bed with Harry Potter after what had happened. He also refused to feed. He ignored the Gryffindor for as long as he could, although hunger eventually drove him back to basic civility. But the rapid approach of the end of the year quickly forced him to reconcile with the Rhadamanthus. He did want to continue to be able to feed after graduation, after all, and he had no idea what Harry planned for him. He had yet to be judged, and he was still completely in the Gryffindor's power, subject to the will of the Rhadamanthus. He hated it, but as he kept reminding himself almost desperately, anything was better than the first eight months. It had to be.
The day before the N.E.W.T s started for the seventh years, Draco spent the afternoon in the Slytherin Common Room with his old friends. His friends accepted the situation, didn't comment when he had to get back to Gryffindor two hours before curfew as per Harry's orders, never stared at or mentioned his fangs, and refrained from commenting on his love life-or lack thereof.
When he got back, he found Harry and made sure the Rhadamanthus knew he'd returned, as he had to, but this time, he asked if he could talk to the Gryffindor for a few minutes.
Harry nodded and led the way up to the dorm room. "What do you need, Draco?"
"What are you planning to do after graduation?"
"I'm going to buy a house near Hogsmeade. I'm going to take some time off, enjoy being lazy."
Draco gritted his teeth. "May I live with you?" he asked reluctantly. "I can pay my fair share."
"I was going to ask that you do. The house I have in mind has a small room off of the master bedroom that will do for you. It's simpler than you trying to find a way to get to me every time you need to feed, and it means I can keep an eye on you."
The vampire nodded curtly. "Good. That's settled."
"Ron will probably stay with me for a while, too."
Draco grimaced. "I don't know if I can bear living in the same house as him."
"You've lived in his room for the past year."
"There's a difference between living somewhere voluntarily and being chained to the bed."
"Then consider this as your orders. You will live with me after graduation, and you will put up with Ron. Understood?"
"Perfectly." The vampire walked off in a huff.
After graduation, the three boys moved into their new house. Ron was only living there temporarily, but the vampire and the Rhadamanthus were planning to stay for a far longer time. As such, certain rules had to be made for getting along. Draco lived in the small room off of the master bedroom, and his door locked from the outside. It was easy to lock him in if he misbehaved or Harry wanted him out of the way. They hired someone to come in and cook and clean for them, so domestic chores weren't an issue. Draco wasn't allowed out of sight of the house without Harry. If the Rhadamanthus was out, he wasn't allowed out of his room.
Things were steadily becoming more awkward between the two young men, and the more tense the atmosphere, the more requirements and rules the vampire found himself living under.
It all came to a head September first, the day after Ron moved out and the anniversary of their time together.
Draco had gone to bed early, but he could hear the Rhadamanthus pacing in the master bedroom.
Finally, Harry called, "Draco, are you awake?"
"Yes."
"Could you come out here, please?"
Curious, the vampire obeyed. "What's wrong?"
Harry scowled. "I'm sick of pretending. Do you really care what the world thinks of you?"
"They can't think much less of me."
The Rhadamanthus laughed, startled. "No, I suppose not. Do you remember what I said to you once, that we were a Rhadamanthus and his bound vampire, and being in love couldn't be allowed to change that?"
Draco froze. "I remember."
"I changed my mind." Their eyes met, and Harry's burned with emotion. "I don't care about any of that. I don't care what they think of me, I don't care if you're bound to me. None of it matters. I thought it would go away, and it hasn't. I'm sorry for hurting you. Will you come to me? Will you give me a second chance?"
The vampire smiled. "Yes."
They slept in one another's arms, later that night, comfortable together. In the morning, just before dawn, Draco looked up carefully into emerald eyes. "You still haven't judged me, Rhadamanthus."
"No, I haven't. Are you sure you want to hear this?"
"I love you, Harry. I can't love you if I don't trust you. I trust you'll give me a fair sentence."
Harry nodded. "I, Harry Potter, Rhadamanthus and Wizard, do judge you, Draco Malfoy, Vampire and Wizard, to be perfect in every way. I do sentence you to be my mate and lover for life. Do you accept the judgement of the Rhadamanthus?"
"I accept."
They kissed as the sun rose in the sky.
Spye
Disclaimer: Not Mine
AN: My mythology obsession got away from me. Thanks to Bethary, my beta. Slash eventually.
The only thing Draco Malfoy remembered from being bitten was a cold voice warning him, "Do not go back to Hogwarts now that Harry Potter has come of age." He hadn't understood at the time, and he had, thoughtlessly, returned anyway. Now he understood. Now, kneeling at the feet of Harry Potter. At the feet of Rhadamanthus Harry Potter, confessing himself a vampire. To a Rhadamanthus, a Judge, who judged all magical creatures instinctively, and any person the Judge chose to consciously. Merlin, he was such a fool.
He'd been bitten over the summer, early enough that he'd had time to get used to the changes in him, to having to drink blood to live, before he started school again. He'd been so sure that no one would have to know, that he could graduate and leave before anyone found out about him, having worked desperately to overcome the barrier the sun imposed until he had the ring he now wore on his hand for protection. Regardless of the warning he had received from the vampire who turned him, he hadn't been willing to give up his education. Besides, the night was so hazy he'd been able to convince himself that he'd imagined hearing it at all.
Of course, just seconds before the train started moving, he'd felt the pull. He'd started to follow it, not understanding what it was, sure that his vampire near-invincibility could protect him. By the time he found the source of the draw, he was already too much in its power to run. He'd taken one look in Potter's knowing, deep green eyes and known. His archenemy was a Rhadamanthus. The Rhadamanthi took their name from the Greek Judge of the Dead because judging was what they did. Any magical creature, vampires included, would be drawn to a Rhadamanthus once the Judge came of age. Suddenly, too late, the warning he'd received made sense. Just in time for Potter to notice his presence. Still in the thrall of the Rhadamanthi powers, he had knelt in front of the Gryffindor. Though he fought with his entire mind not to speak, he felt his lips part, saying, "I, Draco Malfoy, vampire and wizard, come to the Rhadamanthus for judgment." Only when the fateful words had been spoken did he regain control, just in time to bow his head and await condemnation. He saw no way out of the mess he was in, and he refused to meet Potter's eyes.
"Well, Malfoy," Potter said softly. "What have we here?"
Draco scowled. "Please, Potter, don't tell me you don't know what you are. Even a moronic Gryffindor . . ."
"You're not helping your case, Malfoy," Potter interrupted. "I know perfectly well what I am. I was curious, though. Since when are you a vampire?"
"I was bitten this summer," Draco gritted, knowing that lying was useless. The Rhadamanthus would know if he did, and he was in enough trouble as it was. "Why does it matter?"
"It matters. Have you killed since then?"
Draco blanched. "Yes," he whispered. If being Potter's rival hadn't been enough to condemn him, this surely would.
"How many have you killed?"
"Three."
"How did they happen?"
"The night after I was bitten." Draco clenched his hands into fists. "I tore them apart in a blood lust," he finished, grateful that his voice didn't shake. Waking up in that mess had been something out of his worst nightmares.
"Malfoy. Look at me."
Reluctantly, Draco obeyed. He knew his eyes were haunted with the memories. "I was sick for days after I saw what I did, refusing to feed for a month, despite how it weakened me. Maybe it doesn't help any, but you should know that it did-does-bother me. "
Potter nodded curtly. "Get up. Go back to your compartment. Act normally. I'll deal with you after the feast. Meet me in the Great Hall."
Draco obeyed. As he started to close the door behind himself, Potter added, "And Malfoy, don't feed. Your sentence will be much, much worse if I sense fresh blood on you."
Draco nodded curtly and stalked away. He was preoccupied all through the train ride and the feast. His fellows tried to talk to him, but he brushed them off, not wanting to deal with anyone until he knew what was happening to him. Potter, as a Rhadamanthus, could sentence him to anything. He wasn't looking forward to it, and after the feast, he reluctantly dragged himself over to where Potter waited, the two the only ones left in the Hall. "Potter," he acknowledged curtly, determined not to let on how frightened he was.
"Malfoy. Do you, as a vampire and a wizard, acknowledge that I, as a Rhadamanthus, have the right to judge you?"
"Yes."
"Good. Come with me... There's no need to be so terrified. I'm not going to kill you, or order you killed."
The Gryffindor walked out of the Hall before the vampire could reply, even to protest that he wasn't afraid, and Draco quickly followed. He noted with surprise that this was the way he thought led to Gryffindor Tower, but he didn't mention it. He had no idea how the other would react. He did, however, watch avidly, marking the path they took. If he got out of this somehow, the information could be extremely useful. Likewise, he took note of the password spoken to the portrait when he assumed they'd arrived.
The Common Room was empty. Potter sat down, watching the flames for a while. "What had you intended to do this year?"
Draco shifted on his feet; not daring to sit down in enemy territory, sure that he was going to be jumped on any minute. "I had planned to finish my schooling. I would have fed from my Housemates, from my friends, whom I could trust with the knowledge of what I am because I hold equally dangerous secrets about them. I would not have killed. I'll never, never kill again if I don't have to."
The room was silent for close to an hour as Potter thought about the answer. Finally, he said, "Admirable sentiments. It's almost a pity you won't need them. Come."
Again, Draco didn't have time to answer, to question, or to protest. He was left following, not wanting to raise his voice and attract attention to himself almost as much as he didn't want to anger the Rhadamanthus. So he followed, into what he presumed was the Seventh year dormitory. Four of the beds were occupied, and Potter sat down on the fifth. "Kneel at the foot of the bed and bow your head."
"Potter, I-"
"Do it."
Draco obeyed. He heard a whispered word and felt something form around his neck. Something drew his wrists together behind his back and bound them there. Something bound his ankles so that he couldn't stay upright and fell on his side on the floor. Last, something materialised in his mouth, gagging him. He looked up at the Gryffindor, working desperately at the metal between his teeth, his eyes asking the questions he couldn't voice. He could feel the manacles binding his wrists and ankles, and from his awkward position, he could see a very short chain leading from what he presumed was a collar around his neck to the nearest bedpost.
Potter met his gaze evenly. "I'll take out your gag and help you get more comfortable if you agree not to wake my roommates."
Draco nodded, grimacing as the gag bit into his mouth when he tried to speak.
Draco couldn't see what Potter did after the Gryffindor got off the bed, but he felt the gag in his mouth disappear with a vengeance. Relieved, he licked his lips, his fangs forming at the taste of blood. Ruthlessly, he pushed the hunger back. He'd fed the night before; he could go for longer than this without blood.
He jumped when he felt hands on him, shifting him carefully as far away from the bed as his leash-chain would permit, which wasn't more than seven tenths of a metre. He was left still for a moment, his limbs screaming at him, before he was lifted and placed on what felt like a cot, letting the chain loosen so his neck wasn't being jerked so painfully. He was helped into the most comfortable position possible with the bonds on him, and Potter sat down cross-legged in front of him.
"You haven't passed judgement," Draco whispered, his voice as quiet as he could make it. He did not want to have the gag in his mouth again.
"No, I haven't," the Rhadamanthus agreed. "But that is my right. From the time you came to me to judge you until the time I sentence you, you are in my power. Are you comfortable?"
The vampire considered. Finally, he said, "Yes, reasonably. My arms are going to cramp in this position, and I'm going to get stiff from not being able to move, but no amount of shifting me on this cot is going to change that. And," his voice turned bitter, covering misery, "as you just pointed out, I'm in your power. How long are you going to keep me here?"
"That is my concern, not yours, Malfoy." Potter murmured something that Draco recognised as a sleep charm, and the vampire couldn't fight it, his eyes closing moments later.
When Draco woke the next morning, the dorm was empty, and he could see from where he lay that it was late morning. The first thing he noticed, his mind still hazy from sleep, was that his gag was back. That was enough to wake him completely, unfortunately causing him to try to sit up. Not only was he unable to, but his body was so stiff that the effort hurt all the more. When the pain had subsided slightly, he tried to take stock of the situation without moving.
The most prominent thing, in Draco's mind, was that he hadn't moved. He could feel that the manacles on his wrists and ankles were still present and accounted for, not to mention the collar on his neck. He was gagged again, but he was still on the cot. He was grateful for that at least; it was much, much more comfortable than being dumped haphazardly on the floor. Resigning himself to being unable to move or speak at least until Potter came back; he next noticed that his clothes had been changed. Instead of the familiar roughness of his uniform, he was dressed in something soft and warm, probably flannel. It felt like pyjamas. He had to admit, whatever he'd been dressed in, however he'd been dressed in it, was more comfortable than what he'd been wearing the previous night.
Trapped with nothing to do, he dozed off and on until Potter returned that evening, shortly before dinner if he was given a guess. Seeing he was awake, the Gryffindor sat down next to him.
"I came up to check on you before going to dinner. I thought you deserved a bit of an explanation for what's going to be happening with you, fun as it would be for Ron and me to watch you flounder. First thing is that I don't trust you at all. It's not just that you're a vampire; it's my experience with you over the years. So whenever I'm not here, you'll be bound and gagged like this. No matter what, you'll be on that leash. I won't have you feeding on my friends. You're immortal. Depriving you of blood may make you uncomfortable, but it won't kill you. Today, with the sleep spell on you, I let you sleep in. From now on, I'll wake you when the rest of us get up. You'll have ten minutes alone in the bathroom, relatively unhindered, to take care of anything you need to do. This includes showering, brushing your teeth, and anything else you can come up with. It isn't long, but the rest of us need the bathroom in the mornings too. As I already said, during the day you'll be left exactly as you are
now. At night, if you're good, I'll remove the gag. Being good involves not fighting with my friends or irritating my dorm-mates. You're in their space. Our space. It's up to you to make sure you're as little a nuisance to them as possible. Do you understand?"
Draco nodded bitterly, closing his eyes.
"Good. I'm going down to dinner."
Watching the Gryffindor walk out of his line of vision, Draco chewed his gag angrily, trying to get it to yield. He couldn't even dent the metal between his teeth. Furious, he refused to acknowledge anyone who came into the room, even after dinner when Potter came back and removed the gag. He kept his eyes stubbornly closed and concentrated on remembering what he'd studied in the seventh year textbooks over the summer. He kept it up for a week while those who shared the dorm with Potter danced around him, uneasy at having a vampire, particularly Draco Malfoy, in their room. Every day that passed, he hated the chains that he wore more.
In the mornings, he would be shaken awake and gagged before the manacles released him and Potter lead him to the bathing room by the chain on his collar. Even the first time, he was so stiff that he could barely move. The next days, it only got worse.
His fangs had become a constant presence in his mouth as his hunger increased. He had known they would, his experience from when he refused to feed over the summer useful for something, but they made the gag even more uncomfortable. Luckily, there hadn't been a drain on his strength. It hadn't been long enough yet. Yet, he knew, being the operative word.
After a week, however, he hadn't even been able to walk on his own when Potter had taken him to let him shower in the morning. It was a Sunday, at least, so the Gryffindor had time beyond his usual ten minutes. Potter ran a tub full of water and helped Draco wash, surprisingly gently, although the other boy's presence meant that he was fully chained. Draco didn't care how gentle the other had been; he was humiliated. Lying on his cot all day, he decided that when Potter got back, he was going to give in and talk to the Rhadamanthus. The silent treatment certainly wasn't helping his situation. Not that he had much hope that talking would either, but Potter was a Gryffindor. Surely he could get a little mercy.
He dozed off and on all day, not wanting to think about the classes he'd missed the previous week. Thinking about them would lead to thinking about the fact that he was unlikely to be permitted to attend classes for the rest of the year. The whole reason he'd come back to school was that he wanted to graduate, and now it was highly unlikely that he'd be able to. It was highly unlikely that he'd be able to do anything with his life; being chained to the foot of a Rhadamanthus' bed was not his idea of living.
He woke to the feeling of his gag being removed, and he licked his lips to moisten them. "Potter," he said quietly, voice hoarse from disuse and the discomfort of being gagged.
"Malfoy. Did you want something? I assume so, since you're deigning to speak with me for the first time in a week."
"Do I want something?" He laughed bitterly. "What don't I want? I want not to be a vampire. I want to be able to feed, so my fangs will go away and I'm not constantly hungry. I want to be able to go to my classes. I want not to be gagged everyday. I want not to be in pain every minute, to be able to walk when you let me take a shower, to be able to move without your help, which is why I'm talking to you. Potter, I can't see you."
The Gryffindor sat down in front of the vampire. "Now you can. Explain."
"You are too courteous," Draco muttered sarcastically. "Don't you think all the chains you keep me bound with are a bit of overkill? The collar is enough to ensure I can't leave, and the gag makes it so I couldn't spell-cast even if I got my hands on a wand, unlikely though that is. Not to mention I can't bite someone with it in. The manacles are completely unnecessary."
"You would trade your freedom from the gag at night to have the manacles off permanently?"
"I don't think the gag is necessary either, but yes." He hesitated. Finally, he continued, "But I don't want to lose my voice. Will you talk to me for a little while in the evenings, just an hour? I don't care if you keep your wand trained on me, but I don't want to lose my ability to function if you ever decide to release me."
"I'll see what I can do, Malfoy, but I make no promises." He stood up, walking out of Draco's line of sight.
The vampire scowled as he felt the gag placed back in his mouth, but a moment later, the manacles were gone. He moved slowly, trying to remind his muscles what they were for. Finally, he managed to turn over and locate Potter. He watched the other boy prepare for bed cautiously, uncertain of why the Gryffindor was allowing him this.
Still, time passed. Draco took advantage of the times he was permitted to talk to the Gryffindor and asked about classes. During the day, now that he was able to move about a little, he studied whatever textbook he was allowed. He was able to stand up and walk a couple of small steps, the end of his chain-leash that was attached to the bed post loose enough to ride up or down the post to suit his position.
His new 'freedom' made the rest of the dorm even more wary of him than they had been before, but the fear gradually eased. Weasley taunted him about how the mighty had fallen, and Finnigan laughed at the taunts and at him. They never said anything when Harry was in the room, so he couldn't respond to the jibes. He tried not to let on exactly how painfully accurate some of them were, and how much they embarrassed him.
As time passed, his hunger got worse. He was constantly aware of blood whenever anyone was in the room with him. Gradually, slowly, the starvation began to affect him. He got thinner over time until his every bone pressed against his skin. His strength began to fade until he was only as strong as an ordinary wizard, then weaker still. Harry had continued to bathe him on Sundays, and by February, that was the only bath he got, not strong enough to take a shower himself anymore. Still, he refused to beg for blood. He still had his pride.
By the middle of April, he had to be helped even to sit up. He still studied feverishly, but it was the most he could do to turn the pages. He looked like an animated bundle of sticks, and he knew it.
At the end of April, when he couldn't turn the pages in the books for himself, he knew that there was only so long that he could keep his pride, and he was at that breaking point. He hadn't fed for eight months, and he desperately needed blood. If he could just feed... his strength would return. The last day of April was a Sunday, and Draco had given up being embarrassed by any aspect of being bathed by the Gryffindor. He weakly raised his hands, trying to remove the gag while the tub filled.
Potter turned and noticed what he was doing. "All right." He took the gag out. "You're unlikely to do anything to me right now. You can't bite me without my permission, and there's no one else in the Tower."
"Thank you," Draco whispered. He closed his eyes, resting for a moment, gathering what little strength he had. "Potter, I need blood."
"You're a vampire. That's obvious."
Draco opened his eyes, looking straight at Harry, forcing the other boy to see how sunken they were, to look at his emaciated face. "I have not fed for eight months, Harry. I'm starving. You've seen how weak I am. Please. I'll give you anything, I'll do anything, if you'll just let me feed." He couldn't help it; bloody tears began to slip down his face. "Please. Please, please let me feed."
"You drink blood, Malfoy. You feed on what humans need to live."
"I know! Merlin, Harry, I know. But I don't have to kill, and this is all but killing me."
"You have killed to feed."
Draco started to sob weakly, the tears flowing faster. "And I'm sorry. I didn't want to. Please, forgive me that. Please forgive me and let me have blood."
"I'll let you feed, give you a bit of freedom, and let you return to classes, but there is a price."
"For what price? I swear; I'll do anything."
"The price being that the blood you drink is mine."
Draco nodded without hesitation. He knew what that meant; to drink the blood of a Rhadamanthus would change his digestive system so that he couldn't digest normal human blood ever again. He'd be bound to the Gryffindor in order to feed forever. Harry would survive it; Rhadamanthi had a regenerative supply of blood and immunity to the bite of any magical creature. They were even harder to kill than vampires, so Draco wouldn't be deprived of his food supply by old age. It meant that he'd be completely dependant on the Gryffindor, but it would be better than the position he was in now. "I know the price you ask, and I accept it."
"All right. Let me get you clean first."
Draco was silent through his bath, resting with his eyes closed. When he was dry and dressed again in his pyjamas, he murmured, "I'll sleep after this. I don't know for how long, but please don't wake me. My body needs to recover, and to adjust to your blood." He trailed off, letting his eyes flutter closed. He felt the Gryffindor lift him gently into a comfortable lap, and his lips pressed against the tender skin of Harry's neck. He opened his mouth and weakly bit down, barely hard enough to get the blood he needed. But as he started to feed, he got slightly stronger. He bit again, harder, to increase the flow. The blood and the gentle hands holding his weak body so that he could feed were all he knew, and he didn't remember when he stopped drinking and fell asleep.
When he woke, the dorm room was dark. It was late, probably past midnight. To his surprise, he was lying in someone's embrace, in one of the four posters instead of on a cot, chained to the bedpost. The arms tightened around him, and he jumped.
"Welcome back, Draco," Harry whispered quietly.
"I-Harry?"
"Yes. What a wonder, to see the Malfoy heir speechless. There's no need to chain you. If you anger me, you won't be able to feed. You won't bite any of my friends because they can't feed you. You're safe to allow some freedom."
"Thank you," Draco said after a long moment.
"You're welcome. I told the professors. They're expecting you back in classes, starting as soon as you woke up. They'll give you any extra tutoring you need, but I think that I did a fair job helping you keep up. You've also memorised the books by now, surely."
Draco smiled slightly. "Yes."
"Good."
The rest of the year passed quickly. Draco revelled in his freedom, despite being around Harry all the time. He wasn't chained to the foot of a bed. Just about anything would have been an improvement. Being permitted to return to classes and feed certainly was. He blamed how happy he was on that, not wanting to look deeper. He assured himself that it was only the blood lust that made him enjoy being held in Harry's lap for feeding. His inexplicable periods of depression when the other boy didn't have time for him he blamed on the fact that he'd been starved so long that his fangs hadn't disappeared when he'd fed, or that he was having trouble catching up in his classes when he wasn't. He didn't want to think anymore about it.
He was forced to deal with the issue when Weasley threw it in his face. He had been studying in the dorm room, sprawled on Harry's bed. The redhead had come in, sneering about how much he must wish that the bed's owner were in it with him.
He had turned red, starting to shout at Weasley, when Harry himself walked in. "Ron, I need to talk to Draco. Alone."
The redhead scowled but left.
Draco turned away, burying his nose in his textbook and refusing to meet the Rhadamanthus' eyes.
"So Draco. It's true."
"Don't." He turned, pleading grey eyes meeting green.
"You're in love with me."
"I'm not!" Draco protested desperately, but he was remembering how much he enjoyed being able to sit in Harry's lap to feed, being bathed by the other boy every Sunday, the little kindnesses while he was chained, moments when he was half asleep and he heard the Gryffindor tell Weasley to leave him alone, and the sweet, impossible taste of the Rhadamanthus' blood. His face crumbled, and he pleaded, "I'm not."
"This is a fine mess we're in. A vampire in love with the Rhadamanthus he's bound to."
Draco started to cry, for the second time that year, and felt disgusted with himself but unable to stop.
"And a Rhadamanthus in love with his bound vampire."
The vampire looked up, hopeful for one moment, but Harry shook his head. "No, Draco. This doesn't change anything between us. You're still a vampire, and I'm still a Rhadamanthus. Nothing can change that."
"Don't want your image tarnished by screwing a vampire?" Draco asked bitterly. "Or is it just that it's me?"
Harry didn't answer, simply walking out of the room.
Draco slept on the cot again that night, for the first time that May. He wasn't chained, but there was no way he was sharing a bed with Harry Potter after what had happened. He also refused to feed. He ignored the Gryffindor for as long as he could, although hunger eventually drove him back to basic civility. But the rapid approach of the end of the year quickly forced him to reconcile with the Rhadamanthus. He did want to continue to be able to feed after graduation, after all, and he had no idea what Harry planned for him. He had yet to be judged, and he was still completely in the Gryffindor's power, subject to the will of the Rhadamanthus. He hated it, but as he kept reminding himself almost desperately, anything was better than the first eight months. It had to be.
The day before the N.E.W.T s started for the seventh years, Draco spent the afternoon in the Slytherin Common Room with his old friends. His friends accepted the situation, didn't comment when he had to get back to Gryffindor two hours before curfew as per Harry's orders, never stared at or mentioned his fangs, and refrained from commenting on his love life-or lack thereof.
When he got back, he found Harry and made sure the Rhadamanthus knew he'd returned, as he had to, but this time, he asked if he could talk to the Gryffindor for a few minutes.
Harry nodded and led the way up to the dorm room. "What do you need, Draco?"
"What are you planning to do after graduation?"
"I'm going to buy a house near Hogsmeade. I'm going to take some time off, enjoy being lazy."
Draco gritted his teeth. "May I live with you?" he asked reluctantly. "I can pay my fair share."
"I was going to ask that you do. The house I have in mind has a small room off of the master bedroom that will do for you. It's simpler than you trying to find a way to get to me every time you need to feed, and it means I can keep an eye on you."
The vampire nodded curtly. "Good. That's settled."
"Ron will probably stay with me for a while, too."
Draco grimaced. "I don't know if I can bear living in the same house as him."
"You've lived in his room for the past year."
"There's a difference between living somewhere voluntarily and being chained to the bed."
"Then consider this as your orders. You will live with me after graduation, and you will put up with Ron. Understood?"
"Perfectly." The vampire walked off in a huff.
After graduation, the three boys moved into their new house. Ron was only living there temporarily, but the vampire and the Rhadamanthus were planning to stay for a far longer time. As such, certain rules had to be made for getting along. Draco lived in the small room off of the master bedroom, and his door locked from the outside. It was easy to lock him in if he misbehaved or Harry wanted him out of the way. They hired someone to come in and cook and clean for them, so domestic chores weren't an issue. Draco wasn't allowed out of sight of the house without Harry. If the Rhadamanthus was out, he wasn't allowed out of his room.
Things were steadily becoming more awkward between the two young men, and the more tense the atmosphere, the more requirements and rules the vampire found himself living under.
It all came to a head September first, the day after Ron moved out and the anniversary of their time together.
Draco had gone to bed early, but he could hear the Rhadamanthus pacing in the master bedroom.
Finally, Harry called, "Draco, are you awake?"
"Yes."
"Could you come out here, please?"
Curious, the vampire obeyed. "What's wrong?"
Harry scowled. "I'm sick of pretending. Do you really care what the world thinks of you?"
"They can't think much less of me."
The Rhadamanthus laughed, startled. "No, I suppose not. Do you remember what I said to you once, that we were a Rhadamanthus and his bound vampire, and being in love couldn't be allowed to change that?"
Draco froze. "I remember."
"I changed my mind." Their eyes met, and Harry's burned with emotion. "I don't care about any of that. I don't care what they think of me, I don't care if you're bound to me. None of it matters. I thought it would go away, and it hasn't. I'm sorry for hurting you. Will you come to me? Will you give me a second chance?"
The vampire smiled. "Yes."
They slept in one another's arms, later that night, comfortable together. In the morning, just before dawn, Draco looked up carefully into emerald eyes. "You still haven't judged me, Rhadamanthus."
"No, I haven't. Are you sure you want to hear this?"
"I love you, Harry. I can't love you if I don't trust you. I trust you'll give me a fair sentence."
Harry nodded. "I, Harry Potter, Rhadamanthus and Wizard, do judge you, Draco Malfoy, Vampire and Wizard, to be perfect in every way. I do sentence you to be my mate and lover for life. Do you accept the judgement of the Rhadamanthus?"
"I accept."
They kissed as the sun rose in the sky.