So, Enjoy!
Also, if anyone has any ideas, I DO listen (and listening to other people's input has gotten me out of writers block now and again)
I don't know what you're looking for You haven't found it baby, thats for sure You rip me off, you spread me all around In the dust of a deartide?
You're losing your mind again (I try) I try but you're still the same (I try) You're losing a saviour and saint -Cardigans (My Favorite Game (AN: I love this song...))
Things were quiet for the rest of the night. Lily seemed to get over seeing her son in a state of fornication; Draco had apologized for telling everyone in the school about their sex life.
In fact, all of them had decided to settle down with a movie that night. It had been one of Harry's favorites and he had been excited to find out Draco hadn't seen it. It seemed the vampire hadn't done a whole lot of human things, even if he seemed just as comfortable in the human world as he had been in his own.
Lily would glance now and ago at the two boys wrapped around each other on the couch, but even she couldn't help a small grin now and again.
Harry was so comfortable, almost willing to fall asleep right there, but he found himself getting thirsty. Not a vampiric thirst, just the regular kind. It made since, he had had anything since the day before, not even with the small amount of breakfast that he had consumed.
Draco tried to hold him down, but he begrudgingly let him go after a small kiss to the lips. /I could get used to the domestic life, Arris/ Draco laughed in his head.
/It's not so domestic for those like us, Draco.../ Harry grinned showing a fang before going to the kitchen.
He was just opening the refrigerator door when the phone rang. "Don't worry, I'll get it," Harry said loud enough for the other to hear him.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Who are you?" the voice on the other end asked.
Harry's brow furrowed for a moment. "What? This is the Potter residence. Maybe you have the wrong number." /Who is this/
/Is something wrong/ He heard Draco's concerned mental voice.
/I don't know./ "Who are you?" Harry spoke into the phone. He waited for a reply, but none came. Instead, he heard a click than a busy signal on the other end.
Harry stared at the receiver for a moment before putting in down. He returned to the family room, forgetting what he had originally gone kitchen for.
"Who was it, Harry," James asked.
Harry shrugged. "Don't know. I think it was a wrong number," he said while returning to his previous position, only now he wasn't so interested in the movie.
Draco could tell that his lover was confused and held the young vampire tighter.
/Are you ok/ Draco asked.
/Yeah./
But, he couldn't help being worried as he drifted to sleep, movie forgotten.
(Dream)
Harold stretched, not really surprised when his arm hit the empty bed beside him.
He grinned at being left alone, but the smile gradually faded minutes later as loneliness set in.
It was like this every morning.
Draconis would have him brought in during the night, occasionally during the middle of the day. The Vampire King did not really care what time it was, as long he left satisfied.
Harold had dreaded the first night he had been brought; he went as far to promise himself that he would commit suicide before he let the vampire touch him! Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, it didn't happen that way.
Harold had hated himself for submitting to HIM the way he had. He was a prince, meant to marry one of the princesses of one of the neighboring countries and eventually become king! His father would surely feel he disgraced the kingdom.
After a few more moments, Harold got up and dressed himself. He knew what would happen should he still be in the Kings chambers uninvited when he returned.
The other servants liked to talk, even if they did not like him. Hated him actually. The last Consort who dared to stay in the Kings rooms after the King had left had been drained of her blood and thrown out for the rats to feast on. The servant who took care of the rooms had taken great enjoyment to give him all the gruesome details. Harold could tell with every sly glance that she and all the others knew what his role was and considered him below them. They called him "the Prince Whore" and worse when the king's back was turned. Not that Harold really thought that the HE would care...
Draconis himself had called him all sorts of things when he saw that Harold did not actively resist him. He supposed that that was true, Draconis did have the right to call him a slut after Harold had begged him to take him harder that first night... He never made that mistake again.
His hand tightened into a fist, and hit the wooded armoire against the wall. He instantly regretted it when a sharp pain shot through his arm.
Harold pulled his shirt over his head quickly then left the room. The guards didn't even glance his way; he was worse than a servant. In this kingdom, consort was just another name for slave. The only difference between a consort and normal slave was that his only purpose in life was sex. Harold knew he could not possibly fall any lower...
They let Harold walk free to his rooms, sure, but only because they knew he didn't have a chance of escaping. There where guards around every corner; the vampires could hear everything going on. He couldn't make a move without someone seeing or hearing him.
His rooms. That had been something of a surprise to him. Harold had expected to be kept in a dank cell when Draconis was not calling on him. He had been even more surprised when he learned that they had been the Queen's own lavish quarters. That was something that made the servants and slaves hate him even more. Why would the king give his wife's set rooms to his consort? Immediately they decided that he was using close position to the king to his advantage, furthering their belief that he was nothing more than a paid whore. Harold wished that he could bring himself to hate them, but in this case, they were mostly right. He was not a prince anymore and he could not afford to act like one. The servants, down to the ones who clean the water closets, were indeed above him.
Harold stopped on his path when he heard a shout from down the hall. He knew that he should return to his room, regardless of what's happening elsewhere in the castle, but his curiosity sometimes got the better of him. This was, unfortunately, one of those times.
AN: "I love you, ok?" (GuitarWolf) That line just reminded me of that song... Not a big GuitarWolf fan, but I like that one.
I think they're called waterclosets, I may need to go back a read "Luck in the Shadows". there were palenty of mentions of it in that book. (yes, the type toilet they used did stick out in my mind. I think i was simply glad that there had been been something other than outhouses and chamber pots)
I'm beginning to think that the past story might be more important that the present so Harry's dreams may (or not) come more frequently.
It's hard to not write "Harry" and "Draco" in the past scenes.