Dark Temptations

A/N: This chapter is actually up earlier than I would have thought. Oh well, joy for all of us. Hope this one gets across better than the previous ones, but if you like those as well, then that's cool, too.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even my watch (I curse the person who stole to crack every mirror they look upon for the rest of their lives).

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Chapter 7- Left-hand Lies

A scream, quick, unexpected, then cut short. A stab to the mind, blinding pain cursing through his body,

THUMP

-and a headache that would last for the next ten minutes.

"Gregori!"

He looked about, dazed still by the pain of having forgotten to open the lid before sitting up. "Sa-Savannah?" he mumbled, his thoughts urgent, but still too focused on the previous hurt. Hooting was coming from a tree outside of school grounds. Was she- ?

"Gregori, where are you?" her voice was in a slight panic, but still soothing to his ears.

"I told you I'm on a bit of a mission," he said, rising to meet the night, his body quivering as he stretched towards the ceiling. "What's wrong, my dear?"

"She has awakened," Savannah sighed, tears rolling down her cheek.

"She?" he was confused. Why would she call on him to tell him some girl had decided to get up at night for whatever reason. He could smell her, and it clouded his mind before he could think straight again.

"Your daughter has finally awakened, Gregori."

There was a howl, a change to all fours, and he left the dungeons to greet the stars and his life.

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A black feather that shone blue in the moonlight fell from the shading willow, and dazzling to his sight.

"Savannah," Gregori said under his breath, looking up into the tree where she sat, now in her human form. He was always amazed at how her hair shaped her face so perfectly to give a heart-shape.

"Quit staring at me like that and give me a proper greeting," she said, trying to sound irritated, but not managing too well.

He smiled, and his one tooth glimmered in the faint light, giving it a malicious look.

"Why, my dear," he purred, drifting apart and then appearing whole again next to her, "I would never think of greeting you in anything less than affectionately."

"Oh, Shut-" But she would not be able to finish the sentence for a while. As long as he was near her, she would not be able to do anything much without being held in his embrace and whispered gentle words, words that caressed her like the wind in the night. But he was just as mysterious and as captivating.

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Harry was beneath him, unconscious, and bare. His lip was split, and his arms were scratched and covered in blood and dirt. The soil.

A cross was slashed above his heart, two holes were right next to his vein- Draco could taste the sweetness of his blood in his mouth. He opened his eyes, looking about wildly, but feeling weak, and powerless.

He saw himself with nothing on as well, raised above him, balancing on his elbows and knees, scared.

'I didn't do this,' he kept thinking, repeating in his mind, 'I wouldn't do this to the one I love. I didn't do this, I didn't do this' "I DIDN'T DO THIS!" he screamed.

The form of Harry lying underneath him so helpless made his eyes water slightly. He kept telling himself the same words, but his other side wasn't as restless as normally. It still craved for the other boy, but not to where it could get out of hand.

'But where did the cross come from?' he wondered. Draco would drown himself first before he scarred Harry's perfect skin in any way. 'I couldn't do that'. This was the only thing he knew for sure, but that was all.

He himself was dripping in sweat, Harry's taste in his mouth, not as restless as before, yet still needing, still wanting. He could not understand. Draco sat upright and took Harry in his arms, nuzzling the bite- mark gently, afraid it might be tender and he could hurt Harry.

But Harry didn't seem to notice, or at least, not much more than what a corpse would. His scent filled Draco's nostrils, and his blood sang in respond.

"Harry, please wake up," he prayed. Draco had never done that before, but he was afraid of sin, and afraid of feeling unclean. "Please wake up."

Silent tears ran down his face, still holding on the other boy as if holding on to life itself. A hand brushed his tears away, and lips, cold as ice, caught his.

Draco pulled back, stunned, amazed, not thinking it possible for anyone to have heard his prayer. But there they were, his spring emeralds, staring with longing and wait into his clouded silver ones.

"Harry," he whispered with joy, sitting there smiling, crying for joy and fear and anger, but also just plain relief. His soul sang and lifted itself, but quickly fell down into despair.

Something wasn't right with him. Harry's gaze seemed distant, as if not quite seeing him, but knowing he was there. But there was something else as well, pure and unrelenting temptation.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Draco moved warily closer, touched his cheek, and his hand was caught in Harry's, who wrapped his fingers around his own.

He shifted towards Draco, knowing exactly what he was doing. Draco's mind told him something was wrong, but his other side would not hear of it. Any doubt of Harry being strange from any other time was quickly dismissed, like paper being thrown into the fire.

Draco lay on his back, allowing Harry to explore, and when he bent over for a kiss, pain flooded his body.

Harry had pulled a knife out of his wound, and cut Draco the same as him.

Nosferatu were damned in the symbol of god, and he could feel the pain of betrayal flood him like a predator attacking it's unsuspecting prey. Above his heart was the new flowing of blood, and the gash of the son, glimmering brightly as Harry began to drink away.

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"AAAAAAAAH!"

The scream that echoed through the night, that quickly cut short within the silence.

"Please lay still, offspring of the bastard-son," came a squeaky and voice long acquainted with.

Draco looked around, throwing off the hand that covered his mouth.

"Dobby!"

"And a fine evening to you as well, Draco sir."

Draco sat up, looked down next to him and found the bed untouched, except for where he had dozed.

Harry was gone.

"Harry!" he called in panic, looking about wildly, getting ready to tear off his clothes and change to find his scent more easily.

"Please, Draco sir, Master Potter is fine!" Dobby was frantic at trying to calm the carpathian down in his sudden fear for Harry and his rage at himself for having not guarded him. "He just goes to use Privy, sir!"

For a moment Draco had no idea what in the world he was talking about, then heard the door creak open and find the familiar frame of a person dressed in green satin pajamas, a gift from Hermione last Christmas.

Draco stood frozen, unmoving as he stared at Harry. Unmarked, untouched, still innocent and stubborn, still short-tempered yet caring, and belonging only to him.

Harry nearly fell back with the sudden impact of the embrace, being only saved by the wall thankfully not the doorknob, to fall against.

"Draco, what-"

Draco kissed him gently, yet with a fierceness that carried more meaning and passion than any other gesture possessed.

Harry's mind scattered, not expecting anything of what had happened within the first five minutes of his return. He breathed against Draco, nearly ready to fall to the floor as he blinked a few times in pure surprise and anxiety.

He leaned heavily against the wall, but Draco picked him up off the ground and carried him back to his bed in the Hospital Wing, where Dobby had left a pitcher with cool water and some scones with soft butter.

'So that's why the little creep came here', he thought in wonder, still holding Harry close.

"Draco, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Harry hissed, not wanting to cause any more turmoil than the previous shout.

He looked down, having not noticed how Harry had been struggling to reprieve himself from the tight embrace.

"Sorry," Draco muttered, loosening his arms around him, but still having a firm hold. He couldn't look at Harry directly, out of nervousness or distress, he did not know.

Harry squirmed a distance away as to where he could properly breath, and reached for a scone as a distraction.

"It's not like I'm going anywhere, you know," he said, looking at Draco pointedly. "Is that what's got you so worked up?"

Draco still couldn't look directly into his eyes, afraid that his dream could possibly have been true. And no use checking the bite mark, sure enough it would be gone by now.

"I'm just somewhat edgy, 'tis all."

" 'Tis?" Harry asked, question and wonder in his voice. "Since when do you speak with old English? 'tis?" he meant to tease.

"Uh," how should Draco know?

" 'Uh'. That sounds more modern," Harry couldn't help himself to be sarcastic and gently poked Draco in the stomach.

He squeaked.

Both the boys looked at each other in surprise then started laughing.

"Good grief, Malfoy," he said, going back to previous terms of acquaintance, "is it permitted in your family to show any kind of sign of giddiness?" he asked in mock curiosity.

"Why, my dear mister Potter," he said with dripping sarcasm, "would you expect anything less than a knowledge in each field of freaky entertainment and reaction?"

Harry acted as though he were seriously considering the matter.

"No, I guess not," he concluded, shaking his head slightly. "I suppose everyone shows their fruitier side at times."

"I beg your pardon!" Draco said, in jeer outrage. He held Harry closer and nuzzled his neck, which always sent shivers through Harry.

Harry looked him directly in the eyes, and for the first time truly noticed what they reflected.

Besides the stars, they hid a wildness inside them that excited him somewhat, but also scared him. Draco was truly untamed, though he didn't show it very often.

Mesmerizing, appealing, Harry was too lost in his eyes to notice the moonlight shining across their forms, making them shimmer each time they moved. His hair blended in perfectly with the paleness, where his obviously contrasted, bringing him out. His eyes were also out of place and he suddenly felt hideous against Draco.

"Never!" Draco cried, catching Harry's lips once more, a tug somewhat within his kiss this time. "You will never be anything but beautiful, Harry," his words caressed him, like the leaves whenever the wind made them twirl against his face when he sat under a tree. "Radiant, magnificent, ravishing, and mine, all mine." He meant for the ending to sound funny from a movie clip he'd heard a couple of times.

"You describe me like some kind of beauty queen model or something," he said, blushing distinctly against their forms.

"No. Prince, my heart, prince." And there was truth in Draco's voice, of what he had felt, of what he has been feeling for the longest time imaginable. Quick crushes were one thing, but never compare to what he truly holds within him.

Tears shimmered in Harry's eyes, running down his cheek towards his trembling chin. He didn't want to cry in front of Draco, not like this. But he couldn't help it. There was no stopping it now.

"Oh no," he sobbed, and he couldn't stop. 'I am such a pansy', he cursed, 'a damn sissy for all I care.'

Draco tilted Harry's head towards him and he licked the tears off his face, savoring the taste of him, the smell of his gentle humiliation, and his true fighting nature.

"You are not weak," he whispered, kissing him, caressing him, lulling him back to sleep.

"You are strong, far more than I. And-" Draco didn't mean to admit it yet, not truly because of what had happened in their short moments. But he couldn't help it. In Harry's most fragile moment, he had to show something to comfort him, to prove he had something to lean against.

"And I love you, Harry Potter."

Harry held his breath, and looked into his face once more, captivated by his elegance. "As I do you," he admitted as well.

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The new day finally dawned, and everybody was fascinated with their newest arrival, who seemed to be going to a funeral and had a serious narcoleptic problem. But since she was out of the ordinary, she was warmly welcomed.

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It had only been that morning when Gregori had called on Dumbledore to confess a bit of a tale that he and Lolita had made up to conceive the hunters in the area. That Savannah was truly his soulmate, but Lolita still Princess of Darkness at the moment.

"Mikhail convinced me that as one of the ancients we would have to do some sneaking about, but Savannah found out through Raven," he explained, Lolita just standing by, being silent.

"Savannah has to be with me now," he said, looking at her in pure adoration.

"I'm sorry if I've caused too much trouble," she said, truly sounding full of regret.

"Of course," Dumbledore said, still not knowing how she would introduce her. ~*~*~*~*~

But here he stood, still having no idea and looking at the faculty table, truly was clueless until a 2nd year Hufflepuff passed by, talking of how Madame Pomfrey still hadn't finished the herb-solution for her burnt- off hair.

"My dear students," he called, beaming all around, as usual. To show nothing out of the ordinary, he smiled mostly at the banners to avoid looking into foolish eyes, some piercing, other loathing, then those of adoration, but all filled with respect.

"We have a new person to invite to our school," he declared, lowering his hand towards Savannah.

"This is our new assistant in the Hospital Wing," he said, hoping she would notice he was talking about her, "Lady Savannah!"

There was a booming applause from the students, a few of the boys whistled while some girls inspected her if she would be a threat.

But she did raise her head and smile, her eyes flashing brilliantly under the nettish material of her veil. 'Why do I have to where these ridiculous clothes?' she asked Gregori, who sat at the other end of the table.

'The better you look, my dear,' he laughed, making her shoot death glares in his direction, the icy blades of loathing meant only for him at the moment, though she would have a chat with Mikhail whenever they returned home.

'I curse you, Gregori', she hissed in her mind, hearing the fading laughter as he got the message and started looking at the pictures on the walls, most without their owners now.

'It seems everyone has gone a trip to gossip,' he said amusingly, careful to avoid looking her in the eyes. He knew he could regret it later on in life.

She looked away, rolled her eyes, and decided she would excuse herself to go sleep some more. "Headmaster, sir," she said in a pleasant tone, though her face showed some serious strain.

"Yes?" he blinked up at her, not knowing for sure if she could be as old as his grandmother as well. Or older.

She took a deep breath, all her strength to not drop dead on the floor, literally. "I think I shall go lay down for a bit more," she said carefully, the need to sleep coming on more urgently. 'Just say yes,' she pleaded silently in her mind, 'please say I can go to bed'.

At first Dumbledore looked a little taken back with the question, hadn't expected to be asked permission first to go to sleep. Maybe she was younger than him, so she had to respect him as an elder. Or maybe its because she SEEMED young that she respected him out of habit. But whatever the reason, he could tell she wouldn't last for much longer.

"Of course," he smiled, after what seemed like an eternity. She nodded her thanks and left, Gregori excusing himself to accompany her as well. Everyone looked after her as she moved through the Great Hall to the doors, her waist-long hair shimmering in the candlelight. The day had been cloudy and dark all morning.

"If you please, Headmaster," he also said with regard towards an older gentleman.

Dumbledore nodded his consent and Gregori hurried out of the hall as well.

Many eyes followed both figures to the door, some even daring to rise out of their seat a little just to see what had happened.

Gryffindor and Slytherin both missed some very important people. The fact that both were absent was only noticed by Hermione and Ron, though Neville also perceived Lolita gone as well.

"Do you think they could have gotten in a fight?" Ron whispered to Hermione, his hands already in tight fists so that his knuckles seemed white.

She laid her hand over his, trying to calm him. "He'll be fine," she answered, praying she was right. 'I beg you to protect Harry,' she thought, insignificantly to no one in particular.

Neville sighed, looking down at his empty plate, and accepted Deans' offer to return with him to the common room for their next class.

"We'll be along in a moment," Hermione called after him, drinking the rest of her pumpkin juice.

"It's just not normal," Ron finally said, sitting in absolute silence for so long she slightly sputtered.

"Wha-what isn't?" she asked, but already guessing the answer.

"Both missing at the same time, Hermes. He would normally tell me if something is going on between them." Ron had no idea how twisted the meaning of his words could become.

Though she stiffened slightly at the word 'Hermes' she had repeatedly told them not to say, Hermione nearly started laughing at the separate things he could mean.

"Why are you grinning like that?" he asked suspiciously, his left brow raised.

Making up a quick excuse, she remembered he conversation with Lavender the day before. "I was just thinking of the fact that Lavender actually did have a crush on Harry once."

Ron just blinked, his blue eyes truly lost for words. ". . . What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, to be honest," she said, waving her hand in a dismissing gesture, "only that she was just as paranoid whenever she didn't see him within the next five minutes of when classes began. Oh dear, I still have to get my parchment rolls and return a book to the library," Hermione said in a rush, leaving the table in a hurry.

"See you at lunch then," she said, leaving a confused Ron behind.

It took him a moment to remember their schedules were different now, but also the fact that he was even more lost with his thoughts than before. How could she always scatter his mind so intricately?

"Women," he muttered under his breath as he finished his Pumpkin juice and left for classes as well.

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She slammed her fists against the mirror, crying at her reflection.

"Why can't you just leave them alone?" she screamed, tearing at her hair, tears streaming down her face.

"You know exactly why!" she yelled back, disgusted at the way she was so pathetic and weak. "Don't you care anymore?" she asked, trying a different approach at the matter.

She huddled on the floor, under the sink, shaking with fear and rage. "You know I do," she managed to say in between sobs. "You know I can't forget."

"Then why do you insist on letting them live?" She meant to sound soothing, but it came out in a snarl. "The longer they exist, the more humans will end up like them, seeking revenge like us! Don't you see? There is not turning back now!"

She shook her head, not wanting to accept the truth or falsehood of it all. "But they're my friends!"

A slap across the face, confusing about how it was possible, yet there it was, the unmistakable pain of a hand hardened by raw hate.

"Despicable," she breathed, her chest heaving with suppressed frustration. "Do you dare forget why I came? Why I even bothered to show up after your pathetic summoning?" Her temper began to rise with each word passing through her lips, her eyes changing to little slits. "Do you know what kept me here after all of the failed attempts to kill him?"

She hung her head again, tears flowing freely, without end. "I was just angry that day," she said, hoping this demon would leave her in peace.

But no.

"You make me sick, do you know that?" she spat at her.

She just sat there, thinking, ' I figured as much after your continual tantrums with me,' but didn't dare say anything.

"Why don't you just leave then?" Maybe she would. Maybe that's all she had to say.

Another slap across the face. "Idiot," she hissed. "I stay, because you still have anger in your soul. I stay, because I want revenge as well. I stay," she got up and looked in the mirror, "because I have to taste for blood in me."

A monster. Was she just as sick and warped in the mind as they were? But they didn't even seem so horrible compared to her. No, it was just her that was as sick. Just here that truly kept the flame burning within.

'I could have forgotten so long ago,' she thought. 'I was happy with them, and they were always nice. So why can't I leave them in peace?'

"Are you thinking about backing out on me?" she asked, her brow arched and eyes suspicious. "Do you want to forget this whole idea? Is that what you're thinking about?"

She was scared. She didn't know what to do. 'She could kill me,' she thought in panic, then knowing that couldn't happen. 'Because she would vanish herself.'

But maybe she could put them both out of their misery. Maybe she could release them from the eternal pain that has haunted them both. She looked up at the mirror as well, then slammed her fist against it, making the glass shatter, cracking her reflection, showing a bit of the true side.

It rained all around her feet, and she had always found the rain soothing. But this rain brought ache, and it would probably not end there. No, it never ended where she hoped it would.

"That was pretty stupid? Did you know that?" she saw the blood dripping, rolling her eyes at how little people think sometimes. "If you want to die," she continued, walking over to rinse the hand with cold water and poured salt over it from her pocket, which burned horribly and made her flinch. "If you truly want to die," she repeated, "then just tell me so and I will make it true."

She whispered a spell and it healed her hand completely, just some red tints of where the blood had ran.

She stared ahead, thinking it so creepy as she said what she had been thinking. 'Do I want to die?' she asked herself, not really wanting to know the answer. Maybe yes, maybe not at all. Or maybe she wanted her to just go away. But to do that, one of them would have to die. 'Damnit!'

"Just remember," she whispered gently, smiling a smile known to bring more pain and torment than she had ever wished for, "I am the one who saved you, I am the one who released you from your dull excitement with that hag."

"Wait a minute,Gr-" how dare she say that about her? When she was the one who had practically raised her. 'How dare she?' Tears of anger burned her eyes, vehemence even. 'Damn you,' she cursed, 'damn you to the hottest pit in hell.'

She had put a finger above her mouth to stop her from interrupting. " And I am the one who will make sure you get what you deserve." There was that smile again. The same one that got her to agree in the first place.

She stood there in silence, finally making a decision for everyone. It was her fault things were like this now, it was her responsibility.

"Tell me what to do."

Her brown eyes flashed with joy, and her plan could finally begin.

"Check."

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A/N: Don't worry, it's not lesbians at the end. I won't explain much either, just think 'Lord of the Rings' and you might figure it out. And since we're so long in the story, you guys can start guessing who it is. Just remember that saying, "never judge a book by it's cover," because that could seriously describe these 'people'. Yep. Well, until next time! And remember, R/R so I can keep this thing going!