Title: Blasphemous Love
Series: Harry Potter
Genre: Romance / Supernatural
Summary: In a world of magical mayhem, two species have been feuding for millennia, the seraphs and the vampyres. It was never thought to happen, but what would occur if a seraph fell in love with a vampyre? Alternate universe, slash.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyright to JK Rowling.
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Chapter One
The twilight had spread over the city, the darkness awakening the creatures of the night and their eternal rivals. Humans scattered the areas, fleeing back to the supposed safety of their homes in silence. Fear had captured their hearts and souls, bringing them back each night. Few wandered the streets, and those who did were sought by the vampyres.
Upon the sky-high rooftops, a blonde boy spread his arms to their full width, his bright grey eyes closed as he stepped to the edge of the building. The boy's father stood a few metres back, his shoulder-length white-blonde whipping in the wind as he watched his son step forward, eyes shut, moving purely by instinct. The older man's arms were crossed over his chest, a repellent look formed upon his harshly carved features.
"Draco." The man called, the wind almost carrying his voice away completely. The blonde boy stopped for a moment, eyes still closed. "Remember what you're to accomplish this night. Don't let the goal out of your mind." Draco barely gave recognition that he'd heard his father, instead continuing to step to the edge. Stepping up atop the thin edging of the building, Draco stood for a moment, wavering in the wind, his cheek-length blonde hair whipping about in the vicious winds.
The blonde boy wavered for a moment longer, before falling forward slightly, his bare feet pushing off the hard concrete as a knot in his stomach tightened. He sucked in a deep breath, opening his eyes as he fell through the sky, the ground hurtling closer with each passing second.
Shutting his wide grey eyes suddenly, his back arched and his legs pulled in slightly, curving him into a small ball shape, as a pair of oversize white wings pushed through his skin and tore a pair of punctures in his loose white dress shirt. The wings spread at least twice his arm-span before catching the wind, slowing him. With a single flap, Draco took to the air, passing by the lit windows as fast as he'd been falling.
Draco erupted past the roof of the building, his father watched, a twisted smirk forming along the length of his thin lips. As Draco circled higher, his arms falling loosely to his sides, legs hanging as he flew, soft rain droplets began falling, leaving velvety streaks upon his pale skin. Noting the rain, his father below began stalking back to the penthouse of the building, where the family lived; Draco, his father, his mother.
The door leading to the elevator to their level slammed shut, a rude awakening in the peaceful silence of the rain. Draco settled to a comfortable level above the building, his wings keeping him in place, beating through the water, spreading it. His grey eyes scanned the city to it's limits as he mumbled things to himself.
"The goal, the mission…why can't he do it himself? If it's such a revered position to be in; hunting down those fiends…" The seventeen year old crossed his arms, sneering down at the mortals below him, and the immortals dwelling below them. "The sooner this is done, the better. How hard can it be to find a brunette orphan?" He scoffed, descending to circle the buildings, the senses he'd be honing for the day his father sent him out for the first time picking up on every vampyre below.
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A brunette, no older than Draco himself, slunk amongst the shadows, his bright green eyes glowing in the darkness around him. His pale skin was accentuated by the long black cloak he'd thrown about himself, over top the simple black trousers and white dress shirt. His feet, though clad in heavy black boots, made hardly a sound as he ran between the buildings.
Passing outside a large warehouse-gone-night-club, the music pounded in his head, the female's foreign vocals resonating with the bass. The green-eyed brunette never liked females, not from day one. His mother had died in child-birth, his father killed himself in sorrow shortly after, leaving the boy orphaned and alone.
Then he'd gone to his aunt and uncle, who just had a baby of their own. Dudley had been killed the moment the green-eyed beauty realised he could kill with his fangs. After his death, Petunia and Vernon realised what he was and tried everything to stop it: beating him nearly to death, locking him in the cupboard beneath the stairs with nothing to eat, etc. Neither of them realised he could live off his own blood and heal quickly enough.
One evening, on his eleventh birthday, they found him in the cupboard, blood splattered around the cupboard and his mouth, dripping from his long canines and both his wrists. Petunia had started to scream, hardly getting a note out before he was on her, sucking the life from her throat. It was convenient and he knew it would kill her. Vernon had run off at the sight, coming down the stairs quickly, only to see his wife dead by the orphan's hands as well. He had cocked the rifle and shot it, the bullet puncturing the black-haired boy's shoulder through, blood splattering the wall behind him.
The brunette simply lunged from Petunia's corpse to his uncle's throat, sucking his life away as well. The rifle clattered to the ground, and once again, Harry was alone.
Glancing into the club, he decided quickly there was way too many people. He'd already fed for the night anyways. Sliding away from the club, he'd hardly made it around the corner before he was tackled to the ground by a seraph. He could only tell it was one of those horrible holy creatures by the sound of the giant wing beats produced as it descended.
"Boo."
The seraph's fingernails dug into Harry's shoulders, cutting into the flesh. He'd never known a seraph to be so harsh. He liked this one. A sadistic grin spread along his lips, and the seraph sneered. "What's your name, little angel?" Harry asked, tilting his head to one side slightly, his grin widening to reveal sharp canines.
"Draco. And I'm gonna be the last thing you see, parasite." The seraph spat, sneering sadistically, digging his nails in further as his wings folded against his back tightly. Harry cocked his head to the other side, his smile fading.
"Why's that, Draco? What've I done to you…?"
"You existed."
"That's not a very nice reason."
"It's why my father sent me after you." The words were spat at Harry, but the vampyre could tell that Draco didn't really want to kill anyone. Not at the moment. It showed through in his eyes. Arching his back slightly, the black-haired creature leaned up, capturing the seraph's lips with his own. Above him, Draco's grey eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, as Harry deepened the kiss slightly.
Releasing his fingernails from Harry's flesh, Draco tried to pull away, only to find the vampyre's arms wrapped about him, pressing their bodies together. Harry's tongue found a space through which to slip, and quietly explored Draco's mouth. He sure knew his way around a guy's mouth, that was for sure. The white-blonde almost moaned, his eyes falling shut naturally.
Harry smirked slightly, then rolled the two of them over, so rather than Draco being on top, the black-haired teen was. He straddled the blonde, their hips pressing together intimately, their thinly-clad chests pressed together, allowing the other male's warmth to sink into each. "It's obvious you have no idea as to how to do things like this." Harry stated, rather bluntly, smiling into his new lover's eyes. Or boytoy, depending on whether or not someone found them.
"I've never had a reason to know. My job's to hunt you down and kill you, bloodsucker, not make out with you and be your victim of pleasure." Draco glared at his captor, annoyed once again now that Harry's tongue wasn't down his throat. The brunette simply shot him a warm smile, and took Draco's hands in his own, sitting up somewhat.
"I'll teach you then."
"Teach me what?"
"How to be gentle with a lover."
"I don't want to learn to be gent—"
Harry leaned down, capturing the blonde's lips again, silencing him for a moment. This time, Draco did emit a moan; a quiet one, just enough to get the brunette off his lips for a moment. "I'm teaching you."
Sitting up further, he began unbuttoning Draco's shirt, much to the blonde's displeasure. "What're you doing! Get your hands off my chest!" He began trying to twitch his way out of Harry's grasp, his attempts purely in vain. The brunette finished with the last buttons, then slid his hands up around Draco's pale, smooth shoulders. His delicate fingers began caressing the nape of the blonde's neck, causing his back to arch slightly.
"Stop that!" He grumbled, trying not to moan out in pleasure. Harry, for once, obliged.
"You do the same now." Draco stared at him like he grew another head, then reached up with shaking hands and undid the first button on the brunette's shirt. "No, no, no." Harry told him gently, taking his hands. "Seductively. Otherwise it's just like you're taking off your own shirt to go to bed." Placing his hands over Draco's cool fingers, he softly moved them over the next button, undoing it slowly and running the blonde's fingers over the small section of his bare chest.
He undid the next button, releasing Draco's hands slightly, allowing him to do the rest. He was quite good at it now, though his hands still shook. Draco finished the last button, hesitated, then tenderly slid his hands over Harry's chest, feeling the rippled muscles beneath the skin. Harry smiled at him, as Draco continued, running his hands around Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer.
"Now kiss me, of your own will." Draco leaned up, closing his eyes somewhat out of embarrassment, but pressed his lips to Harry's. The brunette's eyes flashed sadistically as he met the kiss with open arms and deepened it, running his hands along Draco's chest. Their tongues darted against each other, as both fought to be the dominant. Draco finally wrapped one leg around Harry and flipped himself to lie atop the skinnier brunette.
Releasing the lip lock for a moment of air, Harry began planting light butterfly kisses along the other male's neck and chest, as his hands moved to the zipper of the blonde's plain black trousers, fiddling with it as Draco released another moan, allowing himself to be flipped back to the bottom.
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"Lucius." The addressed man glanced up from the thick novel in his hands to his lanky wife, who, although beautiful, seemed to have her painted lips permanently pouting like she had a nasty smell beneath her nose. "You're sure that it was prudent to send Draco out on such an important mission?"
"You question my decision, Narcissa?" Lucius slid a bookmark between the pages and dropped the heavy tome on the table beside his large chair. "I would not have sent Draco out if it weren't time that he spread his wings and do his kind a favour." Narcissa shrugged one bony shoulder and strode over to a chair adjacent to her husband. As she walked, the sapphire dress hugging her hips brushed against the spotless floor. Dropping herself in it, she folded her large wings tight to her back and stared out the window, watching the light droplets splatter against the window.
