Hello! So I've been re-watching a lot of Vampire Diaries and this fic is inspired by that. Most of the traits about vampires you'll find in this fic come from Vampire Diaries not Harry Potter. It is rated M for a reason and TW: There is some description of blood.
Hope you guys like it.
"You don't have much time Potter. Either take her back to some safehouse where some ill-trained healer will treat her, after which she'll no doubt succumb to her injuries. Or take this portkey and follow the Death Eater who took the last horcrux."
Draco watches the multitude of emotions that cross Potter's face with masked anticipation. A spasm of guilt here, a frown of sorrow there. Draco is amazed that he's actually considering the options. Another effect of war, he supposes. In another time, Harry Potter would never have considered leaving Hermione Granger behind, brink of death or not.
From behind Draco, where her collapsed body lays under some rubble, they hear a small whimper. Hearing her small voice, Draco licks his lips feeling both nervous and excited though he refrains from snapping at Potter to hurry up.
Instead he coolly says, "We both saw her take Bellatrix's curse for you. There's no cure. Don't let her sacrifice be in vain."
The building around them is collapsing, the fire beginning to build. Draco can feel the smoke in his lungs, can practically taste the blood of fallen soldiers around them. By now most of the Death Eaters and Order members have retreated and it's just the three of them among the wreckage and bodies.
The petty conflict in his mind seems to have played out and Potter takes a step forward towards them and Draco thinks that he might really have to kill the chosen one, but then Potter stops. His face morphs into one of defeat and he slowly reaches his hand out.
Draco can't control the smirk that plays on his lips as he tosses Potter the portkey.
"It'll take you to a Death Eater camp where no doubt Nott Sr. is with the horcrux."
"Let me say goodbye."
Draco's jaw clenches. "I can't, I'm afraid. This is a rather time sensitive situation."
Potter's eyes narrow in anger at him. Draco is unfazed. And then with one look at Hermione's body with regret-filled eyes, Potter is gone.
Draco breathes out harshly his veins filling with increasing excitement. He needs to wait. Just for a couple minutes in case Potter changes his mind and comes back. Fickle thing, Gryffindor's are.
He paces back and forth in furor. He can hear her heartbeat, faint but steady. His fangs protrude as the scent of her blood reaches his nose. The minutes go by in silence disturbed only by the rumbles of the building and the crackling of fire. And then he can't wait any longer.
He rushes to her side and lifts the rubble off of her with ease. She's bleeding out. There's a sharp blade of metal in her leg. She muffles a cry as he removes it, her eyelids fluttering open in pain.
She needs replenishment, otherwise he knows she won't make it regardless of Bellatrix's curse. He bares his fangs and tears at the skin on his wrist until blood runs down it. And then he uses his thumb to open her mouth forcefully, placing his wrist on her lips to run his blood down her throat.
She chokes and splutters, but Draco simply presses further until he notices the blood work properly.
He's sure that if she were in her right mind and had the strength to open her eyes, she would have screamed and spat it back out onto his face. Draco notices her heartbeat grow stronger, the wound begins to heal itself and her breathing evens.
The relief he feels is overwhelming and then in one swift motion he is cradling her in his arms and taking her far away.
Hermione wakes up, lying in a soft bed. A blanket is draped over her body which is still clad in her blood-soaked clothing. It feels nearly impossible for her to move as if there is a weight pushing her down. She is weak and cold.
"Drink some water."
Hermione looks up at the dark figure standing by the bed.
Draco Malfoy.
He's holding a cup out for her in his outstretched hand. She stares and thinks that even if she wants to her body isn't strong enough.
Understanding her problem Draco sits down by her side and helps her sit up. She lets him. Only because she's unable to question him with a scratchy throat.
He places the cup on her lips, and she drinks just enough for her to feel minutely better.
"I thought I was dead." She croaks.
Draco gets up from the bed and sets the cup on the bedside table with a casual if not pleasant expression on his face. "I saved you." He replies. "For the meantime anyway."
"Where…am I?" She asks groggily.
"A cabin. In the countryside outside of London."
Even with the fog in her mind she feels alarm bells set off. "…W-why?"
"Well I can't exactly have you running around Wizarding London when everyone thinks you're dead."
Hermione's brows furrow in confusion. "You…You're not going to give me to Voldemort?"
He looks at her is if she's a child. "No. Forget about Voldemort. Forget about the war."
"What do you mean?"
He doesn't reply to her instead offering her a mysterious smile
Hermione swallows thickly. "Are you going to kill me?"
He laughs amusedly, "No, Granger. If I wanted you dead, I'd have left you back there wouldn't I?"
Hermione doesn't remember what he's talking about, her mind is too hazy to think clearly about anything. All she knows is she is fighting in the War and Malfoy is on the other side.
"Then why am I here? What are you going to do to me?"
Adjusting the pillows behind her, he says. "Isn't it obvious? You're injured Granger. I'm tending to you." He pulls the blanket over her. "And then once you're healed, I think we'll head to France." Her eyes snap to his in confusion, but he looks unfazed. "Only for a couple days though. And then I'm thinking Greece but if you have a preference, I'm open to persuasion."
"What?"
"A trip, Granger. We're leaving."
"Leaving?"
"Yes. Leaving. Exiting. Escaping, you can even call it, though that implies cowardice which by no means—"
"Have you gone mad?"
He smirks at her but doesn't reply.
"I don't know what you think is going on Malfoy, but I won't go along with this—this fantasy of yours."
He gives her a smile. "I'm not exactly asking am I?"
Hermione wakes up again but this time it's with a jolt. The fog has lifted from her mind and she remembers everything with startling clarity.
Harry left. He thinks she's dead. By now, the entire Order probably does too. Feeling the sharp sting of betrayal, she shakes her head and shuts her eyes tight.
Harry had thought she was going to die. And the Death Eaters had escaped with the horcrux. It had made sense to chase after them rather than attempt to save her in vain.
Right?
After a long moment, the sting doesn't fade and she decides, no.
If the roles had been reversed, Hermione would not have taken the portkey. She was sure of it. She was not that far gone. But Harry had. Her closest friend, her confidant, the person she trusted most.
Perhaps it was selfish of her to feel hurt. It was war after all. If Harry managed to get the horcrux it might have ended the war saving countless of lives.
Hermione curls into herself on the bed and blinks back tears. She had taken Bellatrix's curse for him. An incurable affliction that promises a slow death. Perhaps that's why Malfoy brought her here. He wants to watch her die. Savor it.
Another thought strikes her as the last moments before she lost consciousness come back to her.
Malfoy had made her drink his blood.
Feeling a bout of nausea and horror overcome her, she sits up and weakly gets up from the bed. The room is small, with just one window and a locked door that Malfoy enters and exits from with a key.
She is unsure why he doesn't just use his wand to lock and unlock the door but that's a question for another time.
She ambles towards the window and looks out at the rainy landscape. To her surprise there are bars on the outside of the window. Like a muggle prison cell. She unlocks the window, sliding it open and feels the fresh cold air permeate the room.
Her hand clears through the space between the bars with no resistance and she's able to feel light raindrops tickle the skin on her hands.
"I see you're feeling better."
She turns at the interruption of his voice. He's standing there, watching her with an unreadable expression.
She backs away into the corner of the room, her voice admirably staying strong despite the fear in her veins. "Stay away from me."
He raises an eyebrow and lifts his hands up in surrender.
"What is wrong with you? You fed me your blood!"
The placation on his face is disarming. "I suppose you have some questions about that."
"No I don't." She snaps. "I don't care, I don't want to know. Just let me go so I can forget about all of this."
"I can't do that Granger."
"What do you mean you can't? Just unlock the door and let me go!"
"That was a poor choice of words, what I meant was I don't want to."
She stares at him as if he's slapped her. "You owe me." Her voice shakes as she speaks but her eyes are sharp as she alludes to a moment she knows they both remember.
Years ago, it had been during battle when she found him in the forest bleeding profusely, bruised and beaten. He didn't have his wand. She could have killed him, should have killed him.
He had smiled bitterly at her and said, "Of course it would be you." And then he had closed his eyes, kneeling on the forest floor as if he had accepted his inevitable demise.
She stood there, her wand pointed at his face but as she stared at him she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead in a moment of weakness she had whispered a healing spell. Ignoring the look of surprise on his face as his eyes flew open, she apparated away before she could change her mind.
"I save your life. You keep me prisoner for the rest of my life?" Her tone is acidic.
"I'll repay my debt in time, don't worry Granger."
"I'd prefer you do it now."
He takes a step closer and she steps back, just as quickly.
He smirks. "It seems since you're feeling better we can begin our plans."
"I'm not going anywhere with you." She sneers.
"Let's not forget an important detail. You're dying Granger."
She pauses in her anger at that.
"The spell Bellatrix hit you with is incurable. Designed to slowly eat away at the victim's magic and when that's not enough, their life. Kind of like a drawn out Dementor's Kiss."
"I know what it is."
"Then you know you only have a few months left."
"I know—"
"And so what you're telling me is, you would rather go back to war and spend your remaining time fighting a never-ending battle with Potter and his merry band of martyrs."
"Gladly if the alternative is whatever fucked up thing this is." She gestures to the space around them.
He stares at her and then shrugs. "Pity your 'friends' didn't feel the same then."
He's out the door before the glass she chucks at him can hit his head.
Malfoy brings her breakfast the next morning but along with that he sets a duffel bag down and says plainly, "Pack."
Surprisingly, there is a lot of things she can pack despite the fact that she has only been a prisoner for three days. Malfoy thought of everything, stocking the room with clothes in her size and essential items.
Nevertheless she ignores him and doesn't move. He lingers in the room and surprises her by saying, "I'm immortal you know."
Hermione stares at him from her perch on the far side of the bed trying to ascertain whether he's telling the truth or making an attempt at humor.
Finally she shifts and looks away. "Leave me alone."
"A vampire, to be specific."
It does explain some things.
Why she's never seen him use magic. Or eat or drink. Perhaps it even has something to do with why he had given her his blood.
"How?"
He shrugs, "It happened about a year ago. I woke up one day on the battlefield thinking I had died. I hadn't, but I also wasn't alive technically."
Hermione tries to think about what she knows about vampires but comes up with very little. Sustain themselves on blood? Yes. Immortal? Yes. Hate the sun? Perhaps, but that's about it.
The bout of questions are on the tip of her tongue, but she restrains herself, instead she sneers at him. "Is that why I'm here? Fancied a trip across Europe but needed a blood bag?"
"If that's what will give your life a sense of purpose, then yes." He shoots her a grin this time baring a sharp fang at her.
She looks away and stares angrily at the bed. "I'll run. I won't ever stop trying to escape."
"Oh I don't doubt it." He takes a few long steps towards her until he can loom intimidatingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less. But I hope you know I won't stop chasing. Now pack."
/
Hermione still feels the weakness and fatigue in her bones at times, which is a sign she still hasn't fully recovered. And although there aren't any physical reminders of the curse it's presence weighs down on her mind.
They leave London in the early morning. When Hermione steps outside of the cabin she's been held in for nearly three days onto the open dewy grass she contemplates running. But Malfoy is right beside her, watching her every reaction and she knows that he'll make good on his promise if she does.
So she follows him making no attempt to hide her surprise as he begins to pack their things into a running car.
"Where are we going?" She asks as Malfoy silently waits for her to get into the passenger seat. She does, reluctantly and then Malfoy gets in the driver's seat.
"You'll see."
She gives him a scrutinizing glare. "Do you even know how to drive this thing?"
"Of course. What do you take me for, an imbecile?"
Hermione doesn't like how he ripostes in such a teasing manner as if they're two friends going on a road trip and not a kidnapper and kidnappee escaping a war. And she most certainly does not like the strange feeling she gets watching him conscientiously buckle his seatbelt as if he isn't an immortal vampire.
The drive is mostly silent. Hermione stares outside the window for the most part and Malfoy lets her, not attempting to make conversation. When she realizes that they're entering a rather busy town with people around them she turns and stares at Malfoy in her seat.
He smiles though his eyes stay trained on the road. "Why do you seem surprised?"
"We'll be traveling among muggles?"
"Yes." He replies calmly as he pulls into a lot near a train station.
"And we're taking a train? To where?"
"Like I said, France."
"What are we going to do there?"
"Whatever you want Granger."
She nearly growls. "I don't want any of this."
"Pity. I suppose we'll do what I want then."
"Do you even have muggle money? ID's? Where do you expect us to stay?"
He shuts the engine and steps out of the car without answering. Hermione watches from the mirror as he takes out their bags and walks over to her side, opening the door.
She refuses to get out.
"How mature." He drawls.
She shoots him a cold look. "What are you going to do? Force me and cause a scene? Someone will alert the muggle authorities."
Bracing his arm against the roof of the car he leans down and speaks quietly, "You're underestimating me Granger if you think I'm scared of a few muggles. If you'd like I can take you back to the cabin and you can stay there for the next couple months. Sound good? No. Then get out of the car."
Hermione clenches her fists and reluctantly unbuckles her seatbelt.
"Good girl." His voice is mocking.
Hermione follows as he leads them into the station. She watches as he pays for two tickets and shows the clerk two ID's one with her name and spitting image on it. When they board the train and settle into their seats, she asks. "You planned this entire thing?"
He pauses. "I'd think that was obvious."
"Everything? Harry abandoning me? Bellatrix's curse? This whole…charade."
"Not the curse. That I could do without. But everything else…yes."
She stares at him in bewilderment. "Why?"
He stays quiet.
"Some sort of revenge? An attempt to make my last few months miserable?"
He scoffs. "I'm not that petty Granger."
"Was it some sort of lesson in betrayal? Did you want to prove you're better than Harry, better than the Order?"
"I don't need to prove that, I am better."
She rolls her eyes. "Maybe you just wanted to ruin someone's life."
"I do enjoy doing that, a treasured past time, really."
"So you're just not going to tell me?"
"It pays to keep some secrets."
Hermione sits back in her seat and attempts to stay silent, but it seems her need for answers outweighs her annoyance at him.
"Why don't you burn in the sun? Vampires supposedly hate the sun don't they?"
He perks at the change in conversation and taps the ring on his finger. Hermione recognizes the Malfoy crest. "There's a spell on it, that allows me to walk in daylight."
"So if you take it off you'll…"
"Burn."
Hermione catalogues that for later and Malfoy smirks at her knowingly. "Don't try Granger. It's spelled so only I can take it off."
"What about when you…fed me your blood? Was that some sort of sick vampire practice?"
"It's cute Granger how you're so disgusted by that when it's why you're alive right now. Vampire blood has healing properties. Vampires need human blood to feed and humans can use vampire blood to heal. Like a mutualistic relationship."
Something like hope blossoms in her chest. "…Then you can heal the curse?"
He looks at her and frowns. "The curse is a magical injury not a physical one."
She doesn't let the disappointment get to her. In her next question she is hesitant. "I…I've never seen you…eat."
"Vampires don't really need food to live so I don't waste my time on the pretense."
"No I mean…"
He looks at her curiously. "You mean blood?"
She shifts uncomfortably. "Yes."
"I haven't. Not yet…But I will."
She feels sick again.
"From me?"
"No." He grins at her. His eyes glance at her throat so quickly she thinks perhaps she imagined it. Nevertheless, her heartbeat quickens. "Not unless you want me to."
He doesn't give her a moments privacy.
Everywhere she goes, he's only a few steps away.
Every hotel, every apartment they stay at in France, he gets separate rooms but if she attempts to open the door or even a window, he hears and appears almost out of nowhere. It's how she learns vampires have exceptionally good hearing. She's quite sure Malfoy can ascertain everything from the shallowness of her breath to her heartbeat and the thought scares her.
Even communication with others proves difficult. Malfoy watches her studiously, even when she doesn't realize it. Any slip of paper, or murmur for help is caught.
She's tried escaping countless times. So far nothing has worked.
But that doesn't mean she'll stop trying.
Hermione is running.
She's attempting to run. Shouldering and weaving through the crowds of people on the busy streets of Nice.
It had only taken a moment's distraction to be swept up into the crowd and away from his eyesight, but the difficult part had been maintaining a cool composure and a calm heartbeat so he wouldn't sense her.
It's now been almost a half an hour of pushing through the crowd, taking different turns among the streets and she thinks she's done it.
She's escaped.
But now what?
She has no ID, no money, and no knowledge of the magical community in France.
She turns into an alleyway taking in a calming breath to focus on her next move when a force collides with her. She has only a moment to wonder how before his hands are gripping her arms and her back is against the wall.
"Malfoy!" She cries in shock, struggling in his grip.
Adrenaline, fear, and dread fill her veins and she hates that he can sense all of it.
"You'll have to do better than that." He says lightly, as he locks her wrists in one hand, his other trailing up her arm. What makes it worse is the smile. He has a look of enjoyment on his face as if he had liked the hunt.
She jerks against his touch. "Let me go!"
He ignores her and Hermione watches as his eyes turn a darker shade as he turns his head to the side and leans down.
She stills as she feels his breath on her collarbone. "What are you doing?"
"Listening." He murmurs and then after a moment he pulls away. "You're like a hummingbird, the way your heart is beating."
She takes a deep calming breath. "You caught me." Her voice is cold. "Congratulations. Now let me go."
He pulls away but not completely, and stares at her thoughtfully. "You know, I'm getting tired of this."
She doesn't respond to him.
"Of these feeble escape attempts. Here I am letting you see the world and all you can do is trudge around with a miserable expression on your face. It's ungrateful, frankly."
She glares. "I didn't want any of this. I told you I wasn't going to stop running—"
"It's gotten old now, Granger." He gives her a deadpan look. "So I'm asking you nicely, stop."
She lets out a disbelieving laugh. "I'm here against my will, being constantly watched and dragged around by you. I'm not going to stop just because you tell me to."
He stares at her and Hermione barely notices his eyes move to her neck as she continues, "You can't expect me to simply forget the fact that you kidn—"
He cocks his head at her, causing her to pause.
She notices his pupils dilate, his fingers alarmingly coming up to caress her throat.
"Stop." She says feeling a renewed sense of panic.
His thumb presses against her pulse, a warm, rhythmic beat that seems to entrance him.
His fangs emerge.
"Malfoy stop." She breathes.
He tongues the pointed ends of teeth. "You've always been stubborn."
She shakes her head and begins to struggle again. "You said you wouldn't."
"If you won't listen to me, maybe this will help."
She screams as his head bends down and his teeth scrape at her neck. He lets go of her hands to grip her waist. She uses her free hands to push at his chest to no avail.
His teeth are poised to sink in. She braces herself for the pain.
But it never comes.
Instead she feels the soft brush of lips against her pulse. He breathes in, inhaling her scent and kisses her neck again.
She clutches his shoulders and whimpers in dizzying relief.
And then he is pulling away, lightning-fast making her stumble forward in shock at what's occurred.
His breathing is a little heavy and he composes himself before saying, "Don't worry Granger, like I said I won't bite." He winks. "That was just to scare you a little."
The first time she sees him feed, she stumbles back, gets in the car and drives. That's when she learns vampires are fast. Fast enough for it to seem like they apparated out of nowhere.
They're driving along an empty road in Italy when they stop for gas. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he steps out of the car and heads for the small convenience store.
"Don't follow." He warns over his shoulder.
Hermione should listen but curiosity wins her over and she makes her way to the store keeping her footsteps light.
The window is clear enough to see Malfoy's fangs sink into the innocent store clerk's neck. His eyes are nearly black, his face savage, as he drinks. The man is strangely docile. Hermione tears her eyes away and rushes back to the car, feeling nausea and panic overcome her.
Her hands shake as she turns the keys to start the car. The tires screech as she swerves onto the road. Her eyes flit from the mirror behind her, to the empty road ahead of her in nervousness.
It's only a couple minutes later that she realizes the car is running on empty. It begins to slow on its own accord and Hermione is forced to pull over on the side of the road. She slams her hands against the steering in frustration and lets out a scream.
Her hands are clutching the steering and she is still breathing heavily when he finds her moments later. With a pleasant smile, he taps on the window with his knuckles, his fingers still coated in blood. In his other hand he holds a gallon of gasoline.
She gets out of the car without another word and as she passes him, he practically beams at her in amusement. "I told you not to follow."
Hermione prefers Italy over France. In Italy she can wander among the crowds and pretend that Malfoy is just another stranger walking beside her in sharp contrast to the often emptiness of the French countryside where it was just her and him.
It's only been a month, but the war feels like a distant memory. That's not to say Hermione doesn't still often feel the pangs of guilt and regret. She still remembers her friends and her old life, but even if she wanted to reminiscence, Malfoy proves a distraction.
From the beginning he's forced them on outings and excursions as if he's planned an itinerary for every city they stop at. He doesn't let her stay locked up in her room, often forcing her to go out with him.
As for Hermione, she hasn't stopped trying to escape. It's just that the planning for said escaping isn't active anymore. If Hermione gets the chance, a foolproof way to get away from him, she'll take it. But she's realized that in short of killing him, any other attempt will be futile.
A part of her, a small part of her, agrees with him. What exactly will she do if she gets away from him? She has already begun to feel the effects of the curse. Her magic slowly fading away. It's a stark reminder that one day soon, it'll be her life.
They're staying in Amalfi at large hotel by the beach. Hermione is tired and sore, after walking along the coast in the sun all day and she simply wants to slip away into her room and sleep.
Malfoy has other plans.
"Sit."
She pauses on the way to her room and frowns at him suspiciously. "Why?"
He's in the kitchen, all his focus completely directed on what he's cooking. "Sit." He commands not even looking at her.
Hermione's fists clench, an argument on the tip of her tongue. As if sensing her thoughts, he looks up and his expression turns sweet. "Please sit."
Taking a deep breath she reluctantly sits at the small table. With a grin he brings over an immaculate looking plate and sets it in front of her.
"Roasted chicken, your favorite."
She stares at it. "I'm not hungry.
"I don't believe you." He hums.
She rolls her eyes. "How do I know you haven't poisoned it?"
He groans. "Do we have to go over this every time? I told you if I wanted to kill you I would have. And if I had felt the urge today, wouldn't I have just poisoned your eggs this morning? Of course, if it's my cooking you have a problem with then that's a different matter…" He genuinely looks depressed at the thought of it though Hermione is not sure if it's a show or not.
From the beginning she's noticed something off about him. Something different.
He's far from the spoiled arrogant boy from Hogwarts who preached about blood purity. She supposes becoming a vampire can force one to reevaluate their views on blood.
But there is a mania behind his eyes that wasn't there before. Or at least it looks like mania. And at the same time he has a boyishness to him. A juxtaposition in itself. Sometimes he is a witty, caring, even charming. And then there are times when he terrifies her. Domineering and seemingly unhinged.
Reluctantly, she picks up her utensils and takes a bite. As always, his food is delicious though she makes an effort not to convey that in any way.
He sits back in his chair, beaming. "That wasn't too difficult, was it?"
"What do you have planned tomorrow?"
"Excited, Granger?"
She narrows her eyes. "No. I'd just like to be prepared."
He stretches. Her eye twitches in an effort to stay focused on his face and not stray. "What do you want to do?" He asks.
"You already know the answer to that."
"So I see we're still bent on that wishful thinking."
She gives him a bitter smile.
"C'mon Granger you haven't enjoyed one single moment with me these past weeks? Not one moment where you forgot about your loathly old life and simply enjoyed the moment."
No. She wants to say but she knows the truth.
There have been moments, when he's not terrifying and when she's forgotten what circumstances brought them here that she's found herself enjoying their time and to an extent even enjoying the time with him.
This has lead to her noticing things.
Small things that make her question her sanity for even thinking about. Like the complete and utter devotion he gives when he cooks meals when in the end it's only she who eats them. And the absurdly pale color of his skin despite the time they've spent in the sun and the odd way his hair sticks up in different directions in the morning.
It's difficult to match those qualities with that of his often-terrifying vampire side.
"No." She finally says.
He stares at her amused. "Why don't I believe you?"
Hermione feels the sun spill through the window onto her face and frowns in her sleep. She turns onto her other side and snuggles closer to the warm body next to her.
An arm snakes around her waist and pulls her closer. She sighs and sinks deeper into his embrace. He chuckles and she feels his breath on her cheekbone as he murmurs. "Good morning."
"Not morning yet." She mumbles with furrowed brows but allows him to trail his hands down her waist to her thigh. He squeezes and caresses the skin there and then slides his hand lower and hitches her thigh onto his hip.
She feels him press a kiss onto her forehead. Her eyes blink open, shutting just as quickly when his lips slant over hers. His mouth his soft and hot against hers. She cradles his face in her hands and kisses him back just as insistently.
When she teasingly bites his lip, his breath shudders and he pulls away with a playful glint in his eye. "Careful Granger, I bite too."
She grins and returns his heated stare. "I know. I'm counting on it."
Hermione wakes up with a start, alone in her hotel bed in the dark, her heart hammering in her chest. She doesn't sleep the rest of the night.
He feeds in front of Hermione as if he's acclimating her.
He used to feed in front of her once every few days. Quick and clean. Then it became once every other day. And then every day with a little more blood mixed in.
By now Hermione can stomach it, without wanting to hurl. But she still feels strange being there as he lures his unsuspecting victims.
Today it's a man. A local he has lured under the guise of needing help with their broken-down car. On a secluded street, it's easy for Malfoy to pull him into the alleyway and feed. Hermione leans against the car willing herself not to look. But sick curiosity wins her over again.
Some of them are docile. Some of them struggle. Hermione's not sure why. This time, the man struggles but Malfoy is able to easily overpower him as he sinks his fangs into the man's neck. The blood loss weakens the man, his struggles die down.
Hermione looks away.
When he's finished, Hermione is anxious to leave. It's a small town they've stopped at, on their way to Naples. It won't be long before the Muggle recovers and calls for help. She wonders if anyone will believe him when he tells them what happened to him.
Hermione glances at Draco, and sees he's fussing with the collar of his shirt, one hand on the steering. "This'll never come out." He mutters looking disappointed. There's a stain of blood on his white linen shirt.
"Have you killed anyone?" She asks suddenly.
He glances at her, if he's surprised by her abrupt question, he doesn't show it. "Countless."
"I don't mean during the war. I mean as a vampire."
He thinks about it. "Two. When I first turned, there was this hunger that seemed uncontrollable. It required a great deal of patience and restraint to feed and unfortunately, I was still learning that with my first two."
Hermione processes that and then asks. "Do you feel any different?"
He shakes his head, "No. Aside from the loss of magic. And the bloodlust."
"Do you wish you could go back?"
He's quiet for a long moment as he contemplates her question and then he finally speaks definitively, "No."
She gives him a speculative look. "You'd rather live this life? Feeding on innocent people? Having no magic?"
He grins. "I don't think growing old and senile would agree with me. And the magic and blood?" He shrugs. "Minor details." He looks at her with excited eyes. "I can do whatever I want Granger, whenever I want. For eternity."
She supposes it's easy for him. To forget whatever miserable life he had before. She knows Lucius and Narcissa died years ago in the War. He has no one. No one that will remember him, no one that will look for him.
A thought strikes her suddenly.
Who will look for her? Hermione's parents died years ago. Same as Malfoy. And her friends think she's dead. Shaking that terrifying thought, she frowns at him. "You realize you'll also be alone? For eternity."
His lips twitch and he shrugs, as if unfazed by the idea. "I'm working on that."
Hermione is kissing him, frenzied and hungry for more. Her fingers thread themselves into his hair, his body hovering over hers as he returns her kisses.
The ache is more pronounced this time. She's dripping for him.
His fingers skim down her body, until they reach the end of her dress, pushing up the fabric as he runs his hands up and down her thighs.
His thumb brushes against her lightly. She's not wearing underwear, she realizes. Her hips thrust up instantly at his touch and he chuckles, "Patience."
She makes a face but is distracted when his lips dive in again kissing her once more before moving to her jaw and then her neck as his fingers brush against her sex this time applying more pressure.
She wants more, she needs more.
"Draco…" She pleads.
She feels his smirk on her neck.
Two long digits begin to trace her folds. She moans softly, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure it incites. He pushes one finger inside, and then another and then he is thrusting inside of her deeply.
She clutches his shoulders as he continues to suck and nip at her neck, picking up the pace of his fingers. When he circles her clit roughly with his thumb, Hermione cries out feeling the euphoric sensation build inside of her.
He grows more fervent, his thrusts growing faster, increasing the pressure of his thumb on her clit and then she feels his pointed teeth on her neck.
"Draco." She moans, all but begging him to do it. She's close. So close, she just needs…
His teeth break the skin on her neck, and she feels him suck against the wound. Hermione is overcome with both pain and pleasure. The tension in her body snaps, she cries out in gratification as she finally gets her release.
They are both panting, when Draco comes up from her neck, his lips stained with her blood. He brings his fingers up, still coated with her release and sucks, humming all the while. "You taste so good, Hermione." He grins devilishly at her. "I have to have more."
She rolls her eyes at him, though her breath catches in anticipation as he moves down her body until he's positioned between her thighs. "You're insatiable."
"For you, always." He smirks before his tongue is running over her sensitive flesh, his mouth nipping and lapping at her as she bites her lip, hard, to keep from screaming his name.
When she wakes up she feels hot and damp everywhere. It's the middle of the night, she is alone and there is blood trickling down from her lip.
Hermione thinks she's going insane.
The dreams don't stop coming. In fact, they only increase in intensity. It comes to the point where she's afraid to sleep.
But that itself causes a different problem.
Malfoy is always there when she's awake, whether real or in her thoughts.
She thinks about how long and graceful his fingers are as they're in the car.
The practiced way he drives, holding one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch. This leads to thoughts about the hand on the clutch inching towards her thigh and—
She also notices things she hadn't before. He touches her in public. Completely innocent and unintentional, she's sure, but she's so far gone that even that makes her thoughts run wild.
The graze of his fingers on her lower back. His hand gentle on her waist as he guides her to their destination. His breath hot on her ear as he murmurs something either very relevant or wildly inappropriate.
She's going insane. Clearly.
"You're going to crash the car."
"I'm not going to crash."
"I'm serious, you'll get us killed."
"Granger, I'm a vampire and you're dying in a couple months, big deal."
She sits back in her seat with a huff.
They're driving on a coastal road in Ancona intending to drive overnight. And it's raining. Hard.
"You can't even see the road! Where is the road Malfoy?" Hermione gestures to the car's foggy black window.
"In front of the car, Granger." He replies facetiously.
Hermione throws her hands up in annoyance. "Pull over." She finally says.
He scoffs. "Pray tell where would you like me to do that?"
"Take the next exit. We need to stop and wait for the weather to clear."
Malfoy grumbles some choice words but does so.
When they make it to the next town off the exit it doesn't take long to find a hotel. Hermione is too tired and too wet to argue when the woman at the front desk offers them the keys to a single room with a queen bed.
A small part of her is nervous. Afterall, this is the first time they're going to be sharing a room. Hermione isn't even sure if he sleeps, having never seen him do it.
Her question is answered when a couple moments after they enter the room, Malfoy begins to strip his shirt off.
Hermione stares at him. "What are you doing?"
He glances at her as he pulls the shirt over his head. "Sleeping." He pauses and raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "Why, did you have something else in mind?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I meant…We're going to share the bed?"
"Yes…I thought that was obvious." He gives her an innocent look as he climbs into the covers in just his boxers.
"I'm not sharing a bed with you." She says hotly. "One of us can sleep on the floor."
Malfoy shrugs. "Be my guest."
Hermione's eyes narrow at his callousness. "And by 'one of us' I mean you."
Instead of replying, he reaches out and simply shuts the lamp leaving her to stand there in the darkness.
With a frustrated sound Hermione stalks over to her bag, grabs her clothes and shuts the bathroom door. After preparing for bed, Hermione walks back into the room, blindly feeling her way to the bed.
Hermione can barely see him, but she doesn't want to reach over and touch him to see if he's there.
"Malfoy?"
"Hm?" His voice is low and gravely.
She's glad he can't see her blush.
Instead of replying, she tugs at the covers and slips into bed, carefully adjusting the blanket around her and maintaining enough distance from him.
It's unfair, how much of an advantage he has.
She's sure he can hear the pounding of her heart, the nervousness in her veins.
She shifts on her side so she's facing away from him and stares at the emptiness in front of her. The minutes tick by.
She's not sure how long it's been but she's sure he's asleep by now. She takes the chance and obliges the need to turn again so she's on her back.
Another minute ticks by and she gets the impulse to turn her head and look at him. She's able to stave it off for a couple moments more before finally turning her head. Her eyes have adjusted to the dimness so she can make his figure out in the dark. He's lying on his back, an arm draped over his eyes.
She doesn't realize she's staring until his voice breaks her out of her reverie.
"What?"
She startles.
"What?" She repeats.
He removes his arm and glances at her. "You're staring."
"I'm not."
"You were."
"I wasn't staring." She snaps. "I was merely seeing if you were awake."
He grins at her. She can see the pointed white fangs glint in the dark. "It's okay Hermione, I don't mind if you have a look."
"I don't want a 'look', thank you." She snarls. "Save that for the unfortunate twit who ends up in your bed."
"You're the unfortunate twit in my bed, currently."
"Why are you so childish?"
"Why are you changing the subject?"
"Because you're acting like a tosser."
He pretends to be disappointed. "Name-calling. Who's childish now?"
Hermione turns back over and refrains from hitting him with her pillow.
When she wakes up in the morning, she thinks she's still dreaming. She's draped over him. Her head is resting in the crook of his neck, their legs are entwined, and her hands are on his chest.
She allows herself to nestle further against him enjoying the way his fingers press against her hips and trail to her waist and she is excited to see where exactly this dream will go.
But then she notices the fact that she can oddly smell his scent, the faint smell of sandalwood, linen and apples and she can feel his cool skin against the heat of her own and she realizes lucidly that this isn't a dream.
He's awake, she realizes idly. And he knows she's awake.
After a long moment, Hermione looks up at him. He returns her gaze.
There's something there in his eyes. She's seen it before, but she's never been able to decipher it. Now as she looks at him, she thinks it looks like longing or craving, or perhaps long-awaited anticipation. But for what?
He glances at her lips and her question is answered and she's terrified at the sudden urge to give him exactly what he wants.
This newfound problem is why one day when they're outside of their hotel heading to the port to leave for Greece, she hesitantly approaches a Muggle police officer. Malfoy has left her alone to get their car.
There is a gun strapped to the Muggle's holster. Hermione briefly worries if Malfoy is as immortal as he thinks he is.
Her Italian is limited but she's able to convey her situation well enough.
"He's dangerous." She tells the officer, staring at him with eyes that shine with fake emotion. All she's thinking is that she needs to get away from Malfoy. Otherwise she's not sure what she'll do.
They notice Malfoy make their way to them among the people milling about. Hermione can tell he's already worked out the situation by his eyes. They have a mocking glint in them as he looks at her.
The officer says something to him.
Malfoy continues to near them.
"Step back." The officer demands.
Malfoy slows but continues to step closer to them, raising his hands up as if he means no harm.
The officer tries again, but when Malfoy doesn't listen, his hand comes to hover over his gun.
In a flash, Malfoy is near the officer, his eyes turning a lighter shade of grey as he murmurs something she can't hear. The officer grows limp as if under some sort of trance. Hermione steps back in shock and confusion. The people milling around them on the street don't seem to notice anything.
And then the officer is stepping away from them, nodding at Hermione and Draco, and leaving without another word.
Hermione stares at the back of the officer, feeling cheated.
"I thought we were over this." His voice drips in mock disappointment from behind her.
"What did you do to him?"
He doesn't seem interested in answering her and when she turns to him she realizes that he's angry. Furious.
She blinks and suddenly they're back in their hotel room and he's pacing in front of her, trembling in rage.
"I thought it was getting better." He mutters more to himself than her. "I thought you wouldn't try to run again." He snarls.
"What did you do to him?" She asks again.
He stops and looks at her and then approaches, grinning almost maniacally as if trying to scare her. "Clever isn't it? Think of it like an imperio for vampires with a bit of legilimency. I call it compulsion. I can make you do anything I want and see your every thought."
A thought comes to her. A horrible thought that causes rage to build up inside her. Suddenly she can't be near him anymore, can't bear to look at him. So she turns and makes her way to the door.
He's in front of her in a flash, glaring. "I think you're forgetting how this works."
She turns again, intending to lock herself in her room when he's in front of her grasping her elbows.
"I hate you." She breathes, staring at him murderously.
"That much is obvious now." He growls. "And I hadn't even done my worse."
She tries to pull away from his grasp, "There's worse?" She replies acidly. "Compulsion? Taking someone's entire free will away, isn't enough for you?"
"Presumptuous little thing, aren't you?" He snarls. "Who says I ever used it on you?"
She continues to struggle feeling him squeeze her wrists almost painfully, "You did! You're the one putting strange thoughts in my mind and messing with my mind when I sleep!"
She's still struggling not noticing Draco pause, his eyes widening and then Hermione barely has time to breathe before he has her pinned against the wall. "Granger." He says quietly, his anger seemingly dissipated. "Are you dreaming about me?"
She thrashes against him, "Let me go."
"Answer the question."
"You know I am because you're the one making me do it!"
"I haven't done anything to you Granger. If you're dreaming about me, it's entirely on your own accord."
"I don't believe you." She seethes, as he releases his hold on her.
He stares at her and then shrugs, walking over to the kitchen cabinets and pulling out a small vial. He sets it on the table. "This is a potion designed to ward off any effects of compulsion. I've been putting it in your food every day."
The words on her lips die as she stares at the half empty bottle.
Humiliation and nerves wash over her as he nears her again, staring at her indescribably.
Her back hits the wall again and she winces as he leaves only a short distance between them.
"I don't want there to be any secrets." He says quietly. "If somethings bothering you then tell me. It'll help us avoid situations like today."
"I…"
"Tell me the truth, Granger." He says with a smirk, moving some of her hair away from her face. "What do you dream about?"
She trembles under his touch.
"Do you dream about me kissing you?" He cocks his head as if he's genuinely curious.
The blush on her cheeks gives him his answer.
His face turns serious. "Do you want me to kiss you right now?
"Malfoy…"
"That's not an answer." His grip tightens around her waist.
It would be so easy to whisper the words. To simply say yes. The words are right there, on the tip of her tongue. She can see the anticipation in his eyes, as he licks his lips patiently waiting for her.
She lets her eyes stray to his lips.
It's all the confirmation he needs.
He darts forwards, pressing his lips against hers, tracing her lips with his tongue before slipping inside hungrily.
He's more aggressive, more impatient, than in her dreams. Hermione finds she likes it.
Her hands come up to cradle his face as she whimpers in need.
He pulls away, eyes nearly black with desire, shuddering when she reaches up and lets her nails run through his hair.
He kisses her again. And again. And again, until they're both panting.
And then they are in his bedroom. He deposits her on his bed and hovers over her, his eyes flitting over every inch of her with a look of pleading frenzy. "Tell me you want this." He breathes, diving down and running his lips over her neck. "Please Hermione, tell me not to stop."
Hermione's never seen him like this. The desperation in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes. "I want this." She murmurs, breath catching as his hands run over her body with renewed vigor. "Draco, don't stop."
Their clothes come off in quick succession and Draco doesn't waste another moment before reclaiming her lips in a bruising kiss. The feel of his bare skin on her chest makes her shiver and she clutches at his shoulders as a way to anchor her among the heady desire overcoming her.
She moans as he kisses her neck, trailing down until he reaches her breasts, paying attention to each by kneading and sucking at the sensitive skin.
She's never felt such feverish desire before. Her hips roll up aching for friction, moaning as her core slides against his length. He doesn't waste any more time before entering her with a deep thrust. She mewls in desire at the feel of him inside of her as his breath catches in his throat.
Gripping the sheets on both sides of her head, his jaw clenches in effort and she realizes that he's giving her time to adjust to his length.
Hermione runs her hands over his back feeling his muscles flex and raises her head to kiss him. She lifts her hips as she pulls her mouth away, looking into his dark eyes to urge him to move.
When he doesn't listen, she wraps her legs around his hips making him sink deeper into her. He groans into her neck, Hermione feels the vibration go straight to her dripping center. He presses more of his weight down on her as he begins to thrust, winding his arms around her so there's not even an inch of space between them.
Her nails scrape down his back and just like that, the control he's maintained, snaps.
She moans his name loudly as he sets a furious pace, thrusting in and out of her with ferocity. In every stroke he manages to hit her clit with his pelvis and Hermione feels the coil in her belly tighten. Everything feels overwhelming. The desire, the ache, the feel of him around her.
The momentum of his thrusts continue to drive her to the brink of release. She feels him settle his face in the crook of her neck as his hips jerk against hers. She feels him bare his teeth and for a moment she thinks he's going to do it.
The thought makes her breath catch and she is terrified at the way her body arches, her head turning to the side to bare her neck to him as she finally falls apart with a sharp cry.
As she tightens around him, Malfoy finds his own release groaning out her name in her unmarred neck. His hips meet hers in a few more shallow thrusts before he is pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to her.
As she attempts to catch her breath and come down from the high, Hermione senses a change in her. A pivotal shift that tells her that her future has irrevocably changed. She's not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing.
Greece is lovely, she thinks. From the short glimpses she's got of it during their time there.
For the most part, Malfoy doesn't let her out of the room and Hermione doesn't argue nearly as much as she should.
He takes a shuddering breath from beneath her as she rides the length of him slowly. Almost painfully slowly.
"Hermione…" He chokes, his hips thrusting up to meet hers in vain.
Her lips twitch. She can't help teasing him sometimes. He gives her an accusing glare. "You're enjoying this too much."
"I know." She smiles unabashedly and leans down, her breasts pressing against his chest causing him to groan and grip her thighs punishingly. Her mouth brushes against his and then she is tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth, causing his hips to jerk clumsily.
She's learned what he likes. What makes him moan, what drives him crazy. As he has her. It's only been a few days, but they've done little less and show no signs of stopping.
When she pulls away, she enjoys the look of complete enthrallment on his face. She begins to pick up her pace, riding him faster until she is moaning and bouncing on his cock.
He sits up and grasps waist, his hips rising up to thrust into her deeper. Grasping her hair, he pulls her face to his and swallows her mouth, tongue lapping at hers hungrily.
She whimpers when he rubs at her clit, tightening around him and he breaks the kiss with a groan, having reached his breaking point. Flipping them over, it only takes a few more deep thrusts from him before she is orgasming and bringing him there with her.
After they've recovered their breath, Hermione turns and feels Draco wind his arm around her waist from behind her. She stares out the window and realizes how dark it is outside. She huffs, turning on her back so she can look at him.
"We've spent nearly a week in Athens, Draco."
"Yes and?"
"We haven't even taken a step outside the hotel room!"
He props himself on his elbow and grins down at her. "I can't exactly help it. You're delectable Hermione. I can't get enough of you."
The earnest expression on his face makes her blush. "Well I can't believe I'm the one saying this, but we can't stay in this room the entire time."
He leans down and kisses her neck. "You're right." He murmurs. She squirms under his lips. "First thing tomorrow morning, we'll go out."
He attempts to kiss her lips, but she covers his lips with two fingers. "What did we just decide?"
He pouts. "Not even a kiss?"
She stares at him and groans in relent. "Fine—Mmph!"
It's a sweet kiss. Short but heated. When he pulls away she feels herself following the ghost of his lips. She can't find it in herself to be annoyed at the satisfied smile on his face.
Draco is easy to talk to once she's let herself give into whatever this thing is that they have.
One night she tells him about her parents. Another time they talk about Hogwarts. Sometimes they talk about completely irrelevant things. And sometimes about the War.
"Six years of death and destruction and all for what. More war?" She muses bitterly one night.
"You don't know that, perhaps Potter's done it and saved the Wizarding World."
Hermione rolls her eyes but stays quiet. She always does whenever Potter or her Order friends are brought up.
Draco rolls his eyes. "I manipulated him. Alluded to the idea that your death was imminent and that that was the last chance he had of getting that horcrux. If I hadn't been there, he would have chosen you, so please stop moping every time he's brought up."
She glares at him. "I'm not moping. And I know what you did, I was there Draco. But it doesn't stop it from hurting knowing that if I had been in that exact situation, even with you spouting all that, I would have chosen him."
Draco watches as she turns away with a frown, feeling irrationally angry. Maybe it's because she's still bitter Potter left her. That she wishes Potter had chosen her and then she wouldn't be here with him. He doesn't care.
He's selfish like that.
All that matters is that she's here with him now. And she's not going anywhere.
"You're right." He finally says, grasping her elbow to pull her onto his lap on the couch. She settles on top of him, fitting against him as if she were made to. "Potter's an idiot for leaving you but I'd be lying if I wouldn't thank the ever-living fuck out of him if we met again. Without him, you wouldn't be here with me."
She stares at him and Draco wishes he knew what she was thinking. It's strange being so dependent and enraptured with someone who hasn't the slightest idea. Draco's sure if she knew the extent of his feelings, she would be far away from here and not snuggled on his lap.
As if coming to a decision, she slowly leans over and kisses him.
"I've gone insane." She murmurs.
Draco grins into her lips and then inhales sharply through his nose kissing her back properly intending to do sanity-questioning things to her on that couch.
Hermione is in the bedroom having just gotten ready for the day when she feels a blinding pain erupt in her shoulder. It continues for a good few seconds and she is barely able to contain the whimper that escapes her as she clutches at the injury.
The pain stops as quickly as it came. With shaking fingers, she pulls her shirt back and finds an ugly black mark staining her skin. Thin angry veins protrude from it signifying it's spread.
She knows it's the curse. This was where she had been hit. It had been lurking beneath her skin, eating up her magic. But now that that's been depleted she supposes it's time for her.
There's nothing she can do. The helplessness makes her throat close in emotion, but she takes a calming breath. She's had two months to prepare for the inevitable.
She uses makeup to cover it up and then joins Draco in the kitchen.
They spend the day on the beach in Mykonos. Once the sun has long since set, on their way to the hotel Draco somehow convinces her to enter a club.
It only takes one shot for her to relax.
And then she allows the music to seep into her skin finding it oddly soothing. Her pulse matches the beat, her heart pounds with the bass. She's sure Draco would have a field day, but she can't see him at the moment, among the crowd of people.
Hermione is able to momentarily forget her troubles.
Instead she focuses on the thrum of the music bouncing against the walls, on the bodies of people around her moving sensually, caught up in their own worlds.
She lets the tension in herself dissolve, loose limbs and closed eyes she simply allows her body to move with the music feeling the adrenaline and euphoria pump through her veins.
And then she sees him.
His mouth is attached to a woman's neck, but his black eyes are staring directly at her.
Her breath catches feeling terrified and inexplicably excited as she watches the two sway with the music while he feeds on her among the moving bodies.
Hermione's eyes trail from his eyes to the woman's neck, watching his tongue dart out and lap at her wound and feels a spike of jealousy.
He only takes a little and then he is pulling away, whispering something to the woman, no doubt under his compulsion. The woman walks away dazedly and then Draco is making his way towards her, licking his lips all the while.
When he reaches her, neither make the effort to say anything with the music blaring in their ears. Instead he grasps her arm and pulls her close. Their movements are too intimate and animalistic to be considered dancing but nonetheless Hermione enjoys the sway of their hips with the music.
She stands on her toes and draws him close. He stares at her, eyes glinting underneath the flashing lights. In the past half hour, the enthusiastic smile on his face has faded into one of somber desire.
Without warning, his lips swoop down and captures hers in a hungry kiss. She responds enthusiastically, tasting him and the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. Clutching the back of his neck she molds herself against him, as they continue to sway with the now dull hum of the music.
She pulls away for breath and his lips begin to work at her jaw his hands sliding underneath her shirt to cup her breast. Hermione realizes that Draco has lost all sense of the rest of the world, and that he'll take her right there in the middle of club if they don't leave.
She's momentarily distracted, her eyes fluttering shut as he sucks at her collarbone. But then she pulls away and he stares at her with dazed eyes. She tugs at his hands, moving him towards the exit and he finally understands.
In a flash they're outside of the club on the quiet street, still able to hear the muffled echoes of music coming from the door of the club.
He kisses her roughly and pulls away voice gravelly, "I'd fuck you right here."
"Why don't you?" She counters with the bite of her lip.
"I want you to be comfortable." He says lightly a dark promise in his eyes. "It's going to be a long night."
They fall onto the bed tangled limbs and entwined tongues. Hermione can't get enough of the taste of him as she sucks and nips at his mouth. Her clothes are ripped off of her without care, Draco's clothes see the same fate.
And then his body is on top of her and Draco is kneading her breasts with fervor, his length pressing against her slick folds. Hermione moans at the onslaught of heat and pleasure, her nails scraping against his scalp.
The club was enough foreplay, all Hermione wants is him inside of her and Draco seems to agree. His tip presses against her entrance and then he is sheathing himself inside of her to the hilt.
Her eyes flutter shut in pleasure amazed at the feel of his hot and heavy length inside of her. She hums in pleasure, hitching one leg around him as he begins to thrust in deep, long strokes. Their foreheads press against each other, breath mingling in the space between their lips.
"Draco." She moans as he thrusts particularly hard. He drops his head and peppers her face in kisses. Her hand roams his smooth torso feeling the tautness in his muscles. Every inch of his body is directed towards the motion of his hips, the fast pace and forceful movement of his thrusts.
His eyes are intense, flitting across her face, watching every expression of pleasure on her, he incites. His hips set a furious pace becoming more forceful, hurtling her towards the brink of release. She rocks her hips on impulse creating more friction between them.
She feels her muscles tense, her core tightening around him and she knows she's close by the burning delirium she feels inside of her. He's not far behind her. His breath is coming out labored, his hips stuttering and thrusting himself inside of her unevenly.
Her back arches as she feels her peak approach, "Do it." She pleads, eyes fluttering open as she turns her head to the side baring her neck to him.
He moans loudly, and just looking at her makes his fangs protrude. His thrusts pick up with renewed vigor and she feels him lean his head down into her neck.
His bite is quick, teeth sinking into her neck. Hermione cries out with the eruption of both pain and pleasure. He feeds on her blood, renewing his strokes with delirious passion. In that moment all she can think about is him. He's everywhere, invading her senses, her space, her veins.
She clutches his shoulders, nails digging into his skin so hard she draws blood. "Please." She sobs, not sure what she's asking for but just knowing she needs more.
He tears his lips from her neck, his face the picture of a monster. Black veiny eyes, bloodied mouth. Hermione kisses him. And then finally she feels herself fall over the edge, a warmth spreading, burning, inside of her as climaxes. A bright light erupts behind her eyes and her fingers twitch as she rides out her orgasm. She feels him moan her name as her clamped core brings him to his own climax, releasing into her in long strokes.
Hermione is breathing heavily as his thumbs brush over her cheeks and she realizes that she's been crying. He kisses her wet cheeks, eyes shining with emotion.
"Hermione." Draco chokes out as he burrows his face into her neck, gently kissing and lapping at her wound as if apologizing for it. "Don't you see, Hermione." He whispers. "I've never had any semblance of control in this relationship. You have me, entirely." He grabs her hand and lays it on his chest. "This dead thing in here is yours. Has been. You can take anything and everything and I wouldn't have a say in it."
"Draco…" She whispers.
"Stay with me, Hermione." He murmurs, caressing her cheek with his finger.
"I will." She promises though the sudden thought of her mortality is like a bucket of freezing water. "For as long as I can."
"That won't cut it. I mean forever."
"I don't have forever Draco, not like you do." She hesitates only for a moment before she sits up and licks her thumb. His eyes follow the movement. She rubs at her shoulder removing a part of the makeup that covers the curse.
His jaw clenches as his eyes land on the black veins. "It's already starting. I don't have that long. And even if I did, I'm human."
"What if you weren't?"
Her eyes snap to his.
His question is quick, his eyes watching her intensely and Hermione can tell he's thought about this before.
"If you had the choice of eternity, would you take it?" Desperation seeps into his voice.
"I…I don't know."
He tries a different approach. "Tell me what you want Hermione. Tell me and I'll give it to you."
"I want you."
He shakes his head. "You already have me."
"I want you to be happy. Even without me."
"Not possible, not after I've had you, not after I've held you in my arms, tasted you, kissed you. You've ruined me forever." He gives her a half-hearted grin. "The least you could do is follow through on it."
Her lips pull into weak smile.
"Let me save you." He urges. "Like you saved me." She thinks about that day in the forest. Is that the moment that brought them here today?
"How?" She whispers.
"If you take my blood and…die with it in your system. You'll turn."
"I'll still be dead. Only a vampire."
He nods.
Hermione imagines a life like his. Bloodlust for an eternity.
He's asking for too much. He's asking for everything. For her life, for her death, for all her time until eternity.
She could just die.
Choose to pass away from a deadly curse she took for an old friend in a war she was no longer a part of. No one would care. Except him. And then he would be alone. And she would be…nothing. The thought leaves her chest feeling hollow.
She wonders if he'd even let her.
Is this choice he's given her even real or is it just a pretense? Hermione thinks that if the time comes, he'll force her his blood and kill her with his own hands, if he has to.
She'll be angry of course. But he'll have eternity to make it up to her and she knows it won't take long for her to forgive him.
And there it is, she idly realizes. The crux of the situation. That even though a small part of her is saying no, there is a stronger part of her screaming yes. A part of her filled with a strange feeling that seems to have embedded into her soul every time she thinks about him. Love.
She wants to live. She wants to be happy. And she wants him just as badly as he wants her. He just hasn't realized it yet. She wants an eternity to show him.
He is staring at her anxiously when she snaps out of her thoughts. "You're killing me here." He says hoarsely, his muscles tense in suspense.
Her lips twitch and then she is swinging her bare leg over his lap, curling her hands around his neck, and kissing him.
She pulls away and relishes in his dazed expression. "I think…" She murmurs, kissing him once more feeling his hands grasp her waist tightly. She pulls away with a grin. "Doing whatever we want, whenever we want for eternity, sounds perfect…"