6- Psychopathia Sexualis

As his fist collapsed with the boy's jaw he felt a sudden flash of pain, but in an instant the adrenaline rushing through his veins swallowed it and once again there was this hollow, empty sensation of nothingness in his mind. The other had staggered backwards and slightly bent clutching his face. He didn't even give time for his victim to recover; he just grabbed his cloak and threw him against the nearest wall. There was a howl like an injured animal's cutting through the air and another one as Harry pounded his fist in the boy's stomach. He thought he felt the hard structure of one of the lower ribs, but then it gave way, slightly bending in. Maybe it broke.

A strange feeling to break something that should stay whole… Like an elephant in a dishware shop without any sense of regret. It somehow made him think of himself being a god, The God. Finally destroying something that should have never seen sunlight.

And with that thought he seized the face of his victim and bashed the back of his head a few times against the hard stone wall. He didn't count; maybe it was three or six times.

And then the blood appeared. It made his gut wrench. But not in disgust. No, in hunger.

The red liquid of life was oozing from the nose, it was on his fingers, it was even on the wall, it was in the victim's blonde hair. He leaned in and while humming licked little of the blood that was dribbling down the left temple.

As he straightened back, he found the silver eyes looking at him intensely. He couldn't make out the emotions behind. There was some fear, hatred, as well there was the damned pride, but the strongest emotion that made them shimmer and hold his own stare with such intensity was…

--

Harry jumped up in his bed, his heart pounding, pulse racing. His hands were shaking, he was shaking. He realized that he was panting so loudly it could be heard all over the dormitory.

He had been hitting Draco in his dream.

He had been hitting Draco in his dream…

He had been hitting-

No matter how many times he repeated it in his head, it didn't make it more believable.

He had never dreamt of something like that, never been the one for violence. More to that, he didn't want to hit Draco. And certainly not with such hatred and strength and lack of remorse and-

-hunger?

He chose to take a short shower instead of going directly back to sleep. Harry had no intentions of seeing the dream once again.

Leaning his head against the tiles of the shower wall he tried to make out what had happened in the last few days that could have inspired his subconscious to create such images. Nothing, the weekend had gone smoothly, nothing similar to the attack had taken place, he hadn't even seen Draco so often. They encountered each other in some classes, but only bypassing and sharing a few smirks, as if they had arranged wordlessly that that had been a one time thing and nothing more.

Not that Harry was uncomfortable with it. He had just decided not to ponder about it. Actually, he didn't even want to get into it.

Just something had changed; over the summer or generally.

And there had been alcohol involved; they had both gone through a hell of an experience.

Harry hit his forehead against the wall; he had promised himself he wouldn't get into it! Because every time he had to find a reasonable explanation it sounded stupid. It just sounded like a lousy excuse- my dog ate my homework! I was drunk! He looked like a girl!

He hit his head again in hopes to get the stupid thoughts out. He had once heard of meditation that helped when you were injured. For example, if your leg was broken and it hurt like hell, if you broke an arm, forgetting all about the leg.

Maybe it was what his subconscious was doing right now. Instead of kissing Draco, he tried to think of hitting him.

Almost killing him, more like it…

He then tried to think of the last dream he had. It was the Voldemort dream…

And Draco had seen it, too. He hoped the Slytherin hadn't seen this one; it would make him seem like a dominatrix with no restraint. Or maybe it had been Draco's dream…

Harry growled and turned the water as cold as he could.

--

Monday breakfasts were always horrible. Sleepy, irritated faces everywhere, forks, spoons and knives falling to the ground, creating an unbearable noise all over the Great Hall and in the middle of it all- double Potions.

Harry came into the large hall dragging his feet and slouched in a seat next to Hermione who seemed to be the only sufferable person in the whole world recently. He hadn't gotten much sleep after his shower and now was feeling irritated and passive aggressive. He stabbed his toast with a knife and started munching it.

Been having wet dreams of me, Potter?

A voice with a familiar drawling quality to it reached Harry's mind as if from a long distance. He turned to Hermione and asked: "What did you say, Hermione?"

The girl looked baffled and looked around suspiciously: "Nobody said anything, Harry. There isn't much talk going on at Monday breakfasts, you know that."

"Oh," maybe he had just imagined it.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione inquired, leaning slightly forward. She was the only one that knew about the intensity of the attack and how strongly fighting off the girl vampire had affected Harry. It had made the Imperious Curse seem like a child's game. But surely he wouldn't still be feeling the affects.

"Yeah, I'm alright, just haven't slept is all," he answered discarding his friend's doubts.

I'm in your head, dickhead. Came the voice again.

Harry started and peered suspiciously at his toast, still impaled on the knife.

There's a voice in my head? And it's swearing at me?

Yeah, and my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Hearing the answer he looked around the Great Hall to find the Slytherin smirking at him.

Malfoy, why are you in my head? Did you drug me or something?

If the boy could have been able to laugh in his head, with no doubts, he would have done that. Or something. It's the bond we have. I did some research over the weekend and it turns out that because of the vampire we can do some pretty neat stuff that others can't. This being an illustrative example for the mentally challenged.

Harry just sank in his chair, wanting to hide from everyone. The connection between them wasn't just something he had made up in his drunken mind.

Shit. But I still find it funny that you were sitting in the library on a free day. It's something even Hermione does rarely.

Whatever. It was worth it. At first I thought it wouldn't work because I have never done something like this, but voila! This telepathy is meant for the vampire to be able always find his mate no matter where the other is and then Apparate to him; or her. At first we are able to communicate only if we see each other. But with a little practice, I suppose we can get to perfection easily. Malfoy was chatting like he was talking about a present with miraculous abilities, like an electronic puppy from Japan or something.

Stop! First- you said vampire, I'm not a vampire or hadn't you noticed?!

Judging from the dream you're not a far cry from that. Draco just sneered a little harder if that was even possible. Harry thought his face would split if he just tried to make the sneer even more pronounced.

You saw it, too?

Yeah, seems that further on we will always see the same dreams. You will see mine and I yours. I suppose the last night was your part, pretty aggressive you are there, I might say.

I highly doubt it was my dream. But I'll let it slip just this time.

And what's the second?

Pardon?

You said- firstly. So there has to be a 'secondly', too.

Oh, we straightened it out that I was not a vampire. But what did you say about the mate? A mate?! I mean, come on, you're a guy, I'm a guy. There can't be a lot of MATING happening, if you ask me. I didn't even think vampire's had mates. I thought it was only an animal and Veela thing. Don't their dicks just kinda' rot off or something like that because they're technically dead?

Merlin, Potter you're stupid. They are the LIVING dead. Nothing rots off. By the way, thank you for the small insight in anatomy, and yes, vampires have mates. Only unlike animals 'or Veela' as you nicely put it, they can choose their mates, they create them. I suppose it was supposed that I will change, too. But we heard in the Voldemort dream that's not likely to happen. And you don't change because you should have been a vampire already when you bit me, but I think it gets also unimportant because Miranda changed you into a vampire for that short period so you could bite me. So that about explains it all.

Harry was just looking at Draco with a shocked expression on his face, slouching even more in his chair. You're my MATE? And can't we break the bond or change it?

Thank you for the compliment. You know, Potter, I'm not too happy with being stuck with you, too. But I think we can break this only if one of us dies.

Harry brightened up like spring sunshine. So, Malfoy, don't feel like dying today coincidentally?

You must think of yourself as a stand-up comedian, but I really just can't understand your jokes. Anyway, I think there was this chapter in the book I was reading about soul binding, so I suppose that even dying wouldn't be a possibility. So no quenching your blood thirst today, sorry.

Why didn't I hear you before in my mind? I mean, if we have this bond thing going since the attack…

It's called mind conversation, not mind reading, Potter. I had to concentrate really hard to reach you.

But why does it seem to come so easy to me then?

Merlin, I don't know, it's like asking why does flying come so easy to you or any of those other skills you have. It's just one of those little perks of being Harry Potter. And stop asking all those questions, it's getting annoying.

Then be so kind and get out of my head for a while and give me space to breath.

Have a good day, you too.

--

Potions was insufferable as always, and Harry had just too much on his mind to care about some mashing, bashing or mixing together of some liquids and dead animals. He spent most part of his morning operating in auto-pilot, experiencing all things as if through a haze.

He stopped to look around, and realized that he had gotten lost on his way to the DADA classroom and started walking in the direction of voices.

"Nein, nein, ich denke, dass ich fähig diese Studenten zu kontrolieren bin. Alles wirt okey sein. Aber jedenfalls, danke für deine Sorgen, Albus," a woman's voice was talking in a language Harry didn't recognise. But he did understand the last word. Dumbledore.

There they were. The woman and Dumbledore were talking. And there was also Madame Pomfrey leaning against a windowsill looking irritated, apparently she didn't understand them also. Or was she jealous?

"Wenn du etwas brauchst oder jemand von den Stundten hat was blödes getan, sie sind meistens artig, trotzdem du solst mir das mitteilen. Niemand ja weiss, weil die Leute denken, dass diese Stelle verflucht ist. Und danke dir nochmal für diene Hilfe," it sounded funny to hear the Headmaster talking in what seemed to be German. Harry decided to use this opportunity to have a word with Dumbledore.

"Professors, Madame," Harry came forward, feeling weird talking in English.

"Oh, Harry!" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled seeing the boy. He gestured towards the unfamiliar woman. "This is your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alexandra Wolf. I would have introduced her at breakfast, but she only just arrived. Alex, this is Harry Potter, I believe he is going to have your class now."

The woman appeared to be friendly. She had dark red hair, not like the Weasleys', but more to the brown side and bright green eyes. She was short, almost at Harry's height, and had a lean body that still appeared to be physically strong.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry. I have heard a lot about you, but it's always different meeting in person," she did have a slight accent, but nothing too pronounced.

He smiled in response and then turned to Dumbledore: "Um, Professor, I wanted to ask you something… about the extracurricular lessons with you."

"Oh, yes, had forgotten absolutely about that!" his eyes twinkled and he looked at Madame Pomfrey who seemed to be loosing her patience. "This is such a wonderful world that is so fantastic to be living in and do you really want to spend time sitting in a classroom learning wandless magic?"

"Wandless magic? Is that what it was supposed to be on?" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes, I didn't tell you that? Sorry," Dumbledore looked at the school nurse once again with a look that was most probably meant just for her.

"Er, I still want to do it," Harry suddenly felt uncomfortable as if he were talking to a wall. The Headmaster's thoughts seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

"Alright then, I think I can arrange it during your Divination lessons. Would it be fine for you?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Professor," Harry beamed.

"Alright, then we should get going. See you on Thursday, Harry," with that Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey departed.

"So, we should find the classroom. I suspect you know the way, I'm still a bit confused and disoriented," the professor smiled at him and Harry took up showing the direction.

"I heard you were in Germany. What exactly was the project you were working on, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Well, I come from Germany, but I was the main researcher in a project suppressing a vampire attack in Bremen. At the time it seemed that You-Know-Who was behind it all because it involved a strange technique. They used vampire ghosts. That was something that we had to break our heads over for a while because they're not so easy to kill like the ordinary ones."

Harry's heart started racing. This was it! For the time being he decided to play along.

"Vampire ghosts, really? That's unheard of. Can vampires really have ghosts? And how do you kill them?"

"Yeah, it was weird. They had used some spell that made an exchange- they extinguish the vampire physical creature, but in return get the soul back from Afterlife. And the soul is technically still a vampire, but can only operate while in control of another body. They have created a small chaos, but in the end they turned out to be useless in a battle. Their commander tried to kill our men with his ghosts succumbed in their bodies impaling them over sharp objects or casting the Killing Curse on themselves. But with every one of our fighters dying, the ghosts passed on, too. You know, ghosts only stay in our world if they didn't die properly… I'm sorry; it must be really boring to be listening to all of this, but it's all just so fresh, you know, I haven't had even enough time to get relaxed," she smiled shyly at Harry.

"No, not at all. It's actually real fun finding out new things."

"Oh, that's great. I did tell Albus that I could handle students," they came to a halt in front of a classroom door from which really loud and hysterical sounding voices were coming. "I guess we're here."

--

After lunch Harry had had a flying practice and it exhausted him to no end. He came back to the Gryffindor Tower feeling once again hungry although lunch had been only a few hours ago. He laid down on the couch resting his head against Hermione's shoulder.

"How did the practice go?" she asked not even raising her eyes from the book.

"I'm knackered. Ron is a really evil captain. But at least he apologised. We're kinda' friends again," he made himself more comfortable on the girl's shoulder and almost fell asleep until her turning a page in the book startled him.

"I found out about vampire ghosts from the new DADA teacher. Now I know that they really exist, because it was weird that you were not able to find any references in the library, and that Voldemort's Death Eaters created them using some sort of spell. But it's nothing really too important, so it didn't help much," Harry yawned and settled himself in, tucking in his legs on the couch.

Hermione then practically jumped from her seat: "Oh, I almost forgot! I found out a few things about wyverns. It was not much. They're something like heraldic dragons, pure-blood families sometimes choose them to be a protector for people, and it could also be a newborn, what I suppose is Malfoy's case. The family members link the future bearer's, that's what they call the protected person, magic with the wyvern myth and he can never back off from the link, it's like an imprint in the magical signature and also determines slightly the character of the person. The books about wyverns or other protectors didn't say what kind of imprint, so I had to look more deeply in dragons in general, what they stand for. I wrote it down for you, I thought you would find it interesting," she gave him a rolled up parchment and he took it looking at Hermione curiously due to her suspicious way of acting. But she was quick to evade his gaze. "Anyway I found it really captivating. I had never thought of dragons other like vicious and savage magical creatures, and what I found was new to me- they are said to have characters. They seem to have a specific meaning in the Wizarding world-"

"-Potter," Hermione was interrupted by McGonagall walking up to them. "You have detention. The first one. And do try to keep your feet off from the couch."

"When?" Harry sat up and looked, feeling dizzy after the mass of information his friend had provided him with.

"Now, Potter," McGonagall looked at him impatiently. "Now get up, let's go."

"Now? But I'm tired, and hungry!" Harry whined, but the professor had already reached the portrait entrance and didn't look like she was in a good mood. But did she ever?

--

You're late, asshole!

"What are you doing here?" Harry exclaimed as he saw Draco Malfoy sitting on a table in the classroom his Head of House had brought him to.

"Mister Malfoy is serving detention like you are. For the same reason, in fact. Now, please, hand over your wand. There will be no magic used in this detention. Your task is to clean this classroom till it shines. It has been unused ever since the infamous Weasley twins had decided they wanted to play a prank during one of my classes," McGonagall looked around, as did Harry. The room really did look destroyed.

It seems there will be no dinner tonight, Potter.

"I will leave you then, and be warned, both of you- I will not tolerate any fighting!"

With that she left. Harry cast one more glance around the room. It looked burnt. And it smelled.

Well, Potter? Start cleaning.

"Would you cut that out? It makes me feel creepy," Harry scratched the back of his neck in the uncomfortable silence.

Malfoy was still sitting on the table swinging his feet; he was once again wearing Muggle clothes although they looked more typical to him than all the other had been. A white silk shirt and normal, grey, finally not tight, slacks. And real shoes!

"Did you dress for the occasion, Malfoy? Or you always go around looking like you have a job interview?" he wanted to say something that would really hurt the boy. He wanted to break that damned sneer into an expression of shock. He was dead tired and he had to clean a classroom that could not be cleaned and he didn't need a snotty poofter sneering at him on every possibility.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did dress to watch you scrubbing the floor, Potter," he spat the name out as if he was disgusted even having to say it.

Harry lost his patience. He stalked towards the boy and grabbed a fistful of that damned shirt and hissed out: "You'll be happy if you can even bend to pick up a broom when I'm through with you."

"And what do you intend to do? Pound the living hell out of me just like you tried to do in the dream?"

With that Harry backed off, scared of himself, of what he could do. Of what he wanted to do.

"I would never… I could never-"

"As if you don't have it in you," Malfoy just laughed as if he wasn't scared. As if it didn't even affect him. He just started to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing now?!"

"Calm down, I just want to show you something," Draco pulled his shirt off and, jumping from the table, turned around.

Harry gasped as he saw three long, deep, parallel welts covered with gore on the blonde's formerly flawless back.

"They just don't heal. I don't know what you did or even how you did it, but here it is," the boy just stood still, he didn't turn back or put his shirt back on. Harry saw it as an invitation; he came a little closer and touched the boy's back. Draco flinched a bit, but then composed himself.

"Do… does it hurt?" Harry held his breath as he saw how the welts and the distance between them matched his own ring, middle and index fingers.

A reluctant nod came as a response.

"Did I- did I really do this? When- the night in the infirmary? I don't even remember…"

"Well, neither do I, I didn't feel anything that could have resulted in such… horror. Only when I took a shower, it hurt like hell. I haven't told anyone, if you're worried about that. I didn't go to Madame Pomfrey or anything like that. I don't even want to answer anyone's questions about it-" his breath hitched as Harry put his palm down where the wounds began.

"I think you should… I mean, who knows what they are and why they don't heal… God, I should just be dragged away to Azkaban. I can't even imagine…" he noticed how Draco had leaned in for his touch as he traced as gently as he could the welts. They felt rough in comparison to Draco's soft skin.

Harry put his other hand on the blonde's hip and pressed closer, keeping one palm on the deep scratches. He laid his head in the crook between Draco's neck and shoulder smelling the sweet scent and warmth radiating from the boy.

"I'm sorry… I don't know…"

Then Draco turned his head and laying one hand on Harry's where it was resting on his hip, spoke into the black hair: "Don't be sorry, I mean… it's not like I mind…"

Harry raised his head slightly and looked at the beautiful face before him. He didn't look worried or hurt even.

And turning back to Harry, Draco said: "I don't know if this has any meaning because of the bond, but… When you bit me, when that vampire in you made you bite me, I felt like you had claimed me. It's nothing I have made up after finding about the bond, it just felt like that. And this is similar, it's your mark on me, like I deserved it, even like I need it… the pain is like a constant reminder… I- I don't know how to express it better…"

They were now standing face to face again, Harry's one hand was still on the scratches and because of that they were pressed closely together. Or maybe it was just an excuse to lean in each other's touch closer.

Harry's hand came up to touch Draco's cheek, tracing a line with his fingers down to the sharp line of his jaw and finally coming to a rest on the nape of Draco's neck tilting his head just a little bit forward as if just were an everyday motion.

Their lips met in a kiss, in a cautious and tentative kiss. At first it was as if asking permission and then exploring a bit further. After a few moments Draco broke off saying: "It tickles."

"What? Oh," Harry looked down, not knowing how to act. Not even knowing what he himself thought of it. "That means it's healing."

"In that case it's healing really fast, because it tickles like hell," Draco said and squirmed a bit as Harry tried to feel up the rough surface of the scratches, thinking that he had lost them while kissing.

"Turn around."

Obediently the Slytherin did so and Harry gasped out loud: "What? What is it? Did you scratch me again? Did you tear them open? If you ruin my shirt, I'll-"

"They're gone. There's not even a scar left. They just disappeared…" Harry said and looked at his hands. "I didn't do anything… I swear…"

A/N: Translation to the German dialogue, thought you might need it;p hehe-

Alex: No, no, I think that I'm able to control these students. But thank you for your concern, Albus.

Dumbly: If you need anything or someone from the students, they are mostly obedient, has done something stupid, you have to notify me. Nobody knows, because people think that this post is cursed. And thanks one more time for your help.