Day 1

The next morning came and went routinely, as much as he had established a routine at her mansion during the short time he had stayed there. He woke up screaming from a nightmare, as usual, then got up to do his chores as usual, too. His mind was still hazy from lack of sleep, mostly going through the motions of scrubbing the floor in one of the thousands of rooms in her mansion without really removing any of the non-existent dirt. That was as usual, too.

He didn't know why exactly he had to do this task, but he was quite certain it had nothing to do with cleanliness. Magic would do a much better job at that. Maybe trying to teach him humility. In the beginning, he had grit his teeth at being forced to shuffle across the floor on his knees, but now he only found it blissfully mind-numbing. It was repetitive, no concentration needed, not that he would have been able to focus properly. He was so tired of everything.

Everything happened as usual, surprisingly calming his frazzled nerves a bit. That was, until he had to meet her after breakfast. Somebody had left a self-shrinking bag outside his door, which he quickly packed with his robes and personal items. Putting the bag into one of his pockets, he exhaled deeply to steel himself for the rest of the day.

This time, she was already waiting for him in the main reception room, holding another vial of that fizzing, green potion, a little bit less than half the amount of yesterday. "I seriously hope that we do not have to repeat yesterday's events."

The threat was calmly spoken, but it cut into Draco like a hot knife. There would be no mercy today if he hesitated. Biting his lip to keep his hand steady, he reached for the vial and, with a brief glance at her, downed it without thinking. The burning pain came and went, and once again, his knees had given out some time during the agony of the potion working.

When he finally could think again, he saw her nod briefly and place the empty vial on a chest of drawers.

"Good. Do you have your clothes?"

Draco nodded, flinching when she reached for his shoulder. Her grip was very tight, almost painful, and then the disorienting sensation came once again. Not apparition, not a port-key. Some other mode of transportation he didn't recognize, a lot less… disruptive than the others. Special vampiric abilities?

He could see the same cottage from yesterday appearing, the grass still wet from morning dew, and birds calling in the sky. He noticed that upon their arrival several unicorns that had come quite close to the cottage fled in panic. The other equines, which he identified as thestrals and even a sleipnir or two, actually seemed drawn to them.

Without hesitation, she released his shoulder and opened the front door. Draco hurried to follow her the appropriate distance. Inside, he noticed to his huge relief, the suffocatingly dark presence from yesterday was gone. But there was something else permeating the house that made him anxious and restless. It didn't seem to affect her though. She calmly stopped in the center of the hallway, waiting for something or someone.

A few seconds later, a confident young man exited one of the doors and greeted them, smiling and bowing slightly towards her but not offering his hand for a handshake. "Good morning, Mariah. How did your visit to Lord Hadrian go yesterday?"

She tensed briefly, baring her teeth, and the man immediately assumed a non-offensive posture. Did she find his question offensive? Having his gaze properly trained on the floor, Draco couldn't see much, but he could feel that there was a whole subtext communication of body-language between them.

Then she relaxed again, and the tension vanished as if it had never existed.

"Good morning, Rahkesh. No, Lord Hadrian didn't share his findings with me; if you are so curious, you should ask him yourself." The man nodded to acknowledge her reprimand and she turned towards Draco, putting a hand on his shoulder and forcing him to move up to the same level as her instead of staying several steps behind her. "And this is the slave that I was talking about yesterday. Draco, this is Rahkesh Asmodeus. You are going to stay with him for the next week. If you behave yourself well, you might even stay longer."

Draco didn't quite dare raise his eyes to the man, resting them somewhere between his shoulder and his chin. But his peripheral vision provided enough information on the man just introduced as Rahkesh Asmodeus.

Draco was quite certain that he had been there yesterday, the younger black-haired male in the armchair. And to Draco's great relief, he was definitely no vampire, not as pale and inhumanly still as her. Asmodeus was quite tall, moderately tanned, lithe with wiry muscles, and had a smoothness to his movements that seemed downright dangerous. His black trousers and shirt were well-made, but designed to allow for free movement with no robes covering him. And, from what Draco could see, Asmodeus was quite heavily armed. There were several knives openly strapped to various body parts, a wrist-holder for his wand, something that looked like throwing stars, and various potions vials strapped to his belt. He didn't know how many other weapons were hidden away.

But his eyes were the most eerie thing of all. They didn't look human at all, filled with black, gold and white specks. And his presence alone… In Hogwarts, Draco had sometimes been able to get a glimpse of Dumbledore's power, a vast feeling of ... power against his skin. Asmodeus here had at least the same intensity to him, without seeming to project it at all. The only reason he hadn't felt it yesterday was because it had been drowned out by the even stronger and darker one of what he assumed to be either a vampire or the creature on the sofa.

He barely suppressed a shiver. For a human, Asmodeus was thoroughly unnerving, especially the impersonal and thoughtful gaze he examined Draco with.

"Could you perhaps restrict him to the property," Asmodeus asked and turned his attention back to Mariah with no obvious fear in his body language. Was he really unafraid of her, or did he just not show it? "I'm not sure whether I can trust him not to run away, and I already have too much to do to add looking for him to my schedule."

She nodded once, and Draco got a sick feeling to his stomach. Why would they think he'd run away? His sluggishly churning thoughts came up with ample scenarios for which they would need to restrain him. What was Asmodeus planning to do with him?

Asmodeus continued smoothly, not giving a hint as to what he was thinking. "Thank you. Do you mind if I excuse myself for some time, I am in the middle of a potion that shouldn't be left unattended for too long. I'm sure the wards won't be a problem for you to key him in, and you probably already know that Daray's in the living room. Should you leave before I'm done – is there anything else I need to know?"

"This property is yours?"

"Yes."

"Are there any blood wards around it?"

Asmodeus looked thoughtful. "Not around the whole property, but a circle around the cottage and each of the greenhouses. Why?"

"Then I would think it best if I restricted him to those wards. Have you activated them before or after?"

Before or after what?

"I have renewed them afterwards. You are asking for my blood?" Asmodeus had a small smirk on his face. Draco swallowed heavily, not seeing how Asmodeus could be so cheerful about it. Was she going to feed from the man right in front of Draco?

To his surprise, Mariah almost looked – put out? When talking about blood?

"Five drops will be enough. One for each limb, and one for his forehead."

Still smiling slightly, Asmodeus suddenly had a knife in his hand, now looking somewhat curiously at her. Draco was not that curious; he suspected that it would be the same procedure she had used to key him into the wards around her estate, and it had hurt. Not the blood, but the magic that had followed. It had scoured across his flesh, leaving him sore and feeling almost dirty with the oppressing darkness of the magic.

Without flinching, Asmodeus pressed the knife into his right index finger, just deep enough to scratch the surface and get a little bit of blood flowing. After an asking look at Mariah, he stepped closer to Draco, making him cringe back instinctively. Asmodeus' frown quickly froze him in place, and he felt almost petrified watching the injured digit coming closer to him. The brief touch to his forehead didn't hurt; it was warm and left a cool feeling where the blood immediately started to congeal. Grabbing Draco's wrists, Asmodeus quickly dabbed his injured finger against their insides above the pulse-point, and then he knelt down in front of Draco to touch his ankles.

When Asmodeus got up, Draco could see that the injury had already healed, and the excess blood was cleaned away. How strong was Asmodeus to not even have used a wand for that?

"What now?" Asmodeus asked.

She smiled, her fangs bared. Draco shivered at the sight, but Asmodeus seemed unimpressed. "That's enough, thank you. The rest, I will do myself."

"Well then, I hope you will excuse me." With a small bow, the man left and her attention focused back on Draco.

Her eyes started to glow strangely, like they had on several occasions before, and strange, runic lines seemed to appear on her skin focused mainly around her eyes, her temples, the center of her forehead, and the back of her hands. Draco was torn between fascination and fright. Despite her being almost half a foot shorter than him, she was a much more imposing figure. The golden glow fairly radiated power around her, most of it targeted at him. Her hands moved in strange patterns, seemingly plucking invisible threads out of the air all around him, tying him with them.

With a sharply spoken word the golden runes on her skin lit up brightly, and Draco could feel the magic connecting painfully with something inside him. He grit his teeth, trying not to throw up from the feeling of dark strands wriggling deep into him. It didn't feel as vile as when she had tied him into the wards of her home, but was still repulsive enough to make him swallow heavily several times.

When the pain and nausea ebbed away, the dabs of blood Asmodeus had left on his skin glowed white-golden, igniting in a flash of blue-white heat. Before Draco actually realized the pain, the blood had burned itself up, leaving no more than slightly tender spots on his skin.

"Hm. Curious." She was looking strangely into the direction Asmodeus had vanished into, with a predatory look. "Tristan never said anything about…"

Trailing off, the golden glow under her skin finally abated, subsiding once again. Draco was too miserable to wonder what she was talking about. He was still shivering from both the aftereffects of what she had done to him and a bone-chilling coldness that never seemed to leave him lately. He carefully brushed his index finger across the small, red spot on the inside of his left wrist. With a shaky breath he tried not to think of Asmodeus' blood igniting right on his skin, and that it had been all Asmodeus' doing. What was Mariah doing, leaving him all alone with Asmodeus?

"Draco."

His eyes snapped up to hers, the strong command making him flinch and barely reign in his panic.

"Same rules as in my mansion. Behave. Obey all commands. The further outside the wards you go, the more painful it will be for you. If you prove yourself trustworthy, you will get back your wand. Now wait here until either I or Rahkesh come and get you."

Almost terrified out of his wits, he nodded jerkily. "Y-yes, m-ma'm."

Without acknowledging him any further, she turned around and strode off into the direction of the sitting room, her thousands of tiny braids swinging lividly behind her.

He didn't know how long he just stood there staring after her, huddling his arms closer to his torso in a vain attempt to stop his shivering. Only slowly did he come out of his stupor where his overly tired thoughts went round and round in circles.

Yesterday, he hadn't been much in the state of mind to take in his surroundings except for the most obvious things, and today wasn't much better. But now that he was going to spend at least a week here, survival dictated that he got a grip on what kind of person Asmodeus was, and quickly. Alone from being near him and seeing his fearlessness when facing Mariah, Draco knew that it would not end well if he got on Asmodeus' wrong side.

He looked around. Very often, houses reflected their owners' character.

To his surprise, the hallway was almost completely bare, with no personal items anywhere. He could see a few lighter patches on the slightly off-white walls where there had probably hung some pictures, but they had been removed. An old, wooden chest of drawers was placed to one side, probably for shoes, and a simple coat-rack was mounted in easy reach of the door. The floor was covered with a hard carpet that might once have been white, but had turned more to a grayish-cream color in the center where most people placed their feet.

There probably weren't any house-elves around, because they would have had to iron their ears over such obvious signs of disrepair. Otherwise it was quite clean, and Draco wondered whether he would have to continue doing chores like for her. Both dusting and floor scrubbing seemed to be taken care of, but maybe the carpet…

To his left, there were several massive, wooden doors that were most ascetic in their design, but he didn't dare open them. She had said to wait for her in the hallway, and if she discovered he had gone anywhere else…

Shivering, he looked into the direction Asmodeus had vanished. There were stairs leading to at least one underground level, and to the upper floors. From what he could see, the upper floors seemed to be a bit lighter than the hallway he was currently standing in, but the light of the single window did nothing to penetrate into the darkness of the cellar.

Asmodeus though had gone straight through the door at the end of the hallway, the one next to the door leading to the sitting room. The man had said he was brewing potions? Draco just hoped he wasn't going to be the test subject for any new concoctions. Perhaps Asmodeus needed some help with brewing? But, on the other hand, since they didn't trust him with a wand, they would hardly let him near volatile ingredients. And even with the most basic herbs, you could create enormous damage, ranging from explosions over poisons and acids to noxious fumes.

He didn't know how long he had been waiting, when suddenly her voice sounded painfully in his head.

"Come to the sitting room. I am leaving now, so remember to behave. Rahkesh has full authority over you."

Almost screaming from the inhuman power invading his brain, Draco had to grab for the wall to steady himself. He had been quite certain that vampires had telepathic powers, but he had never experienced them for himself before. She had always sent servants to inform him of anything she needed, and he was glad for that. If she didn't do that ever again, it would still be too soon.

Shuddering, he staggered into the direction the call had come from, trying to compose himself from the shock.

The door Mariah had vanished through opened, but nobody came out. Swallowing thickly, Draco made his way towards it. He briefly rubbed his forehead to lighten the headache that her call had left, then dropped his hands to his sides. He didn't want to give them any leverage against him.

Carefully he peered into the room, taking in both Asmodeus sitting in the same chair as yesterday, and another man clad all in black leather despite the heat. He was sprawled across the couch the strange creature had inhabited yesterday.

With a sudden lurch he realized that the other man was not a man but a vampire, and cold sweat spread across his brow. Were there vampires everywhere? He should have known that he wouldn't be so lucky as to be left merely with a human.

Mariah was nowhere in sight; apparently she had already apparated out – or teleported, or whatever it was she did. So now, he was completely alone with Asmodeus and a vampire that was looking at him very suggestively.

"Well I can see why Farov's interested. Send him to one of the training facilities for sex slaves, do something about that hair, he could be a valuable one. Mariah didn't have any rules about drinking his blood and fucking him, did she?"

Even the vampire's voice sounded hungry, and Draco shivered compulsively. Now he knew why they didn't want him to escape. He didn't even have to ask what they were going to do to him, since the vampire had already voiced his intentions.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Asmodeus rolling his eyes. "Is the word 'subtle' in the vampiric dictionary?"

Shrinking against the wall to make himself as unobtrusive as possible, Draco followed the ensuing conversation.

"Not concerning slaves. And she didn't say anything. How nice of her. You come from a line of purebloods?" The vampire bared his fangs at him in a predatory grin, making his heart pound so hard that he thought it would burst. He thought he had already resigned himself to what he knew they were going to do to him, but when faced with it directly…

"You remember Mariah said he had some sort of phobia of vampires. He seems unable to talk when too frightened, lay off a bit." Asmodeus sounded more amused than anything else. But the vampire backed off somewhat, stretching back on the couch. "And you're not molesting him."

The vampire looked at Asmodeus somewhat disbelievingly, then focused back on Draco. However, he didn't attack immediately. Which didn't make Draco feel any more secure, because he was quite certain that as soon as Asmodeus was out of sight, the vampire would do whatever he wanted.

"I'll have to assume Mariah didn't train you at all. You certainly need it. Answer the question; do you come from a long line of purebloods?" The vampire asked with a certain edge in his voice. Draco knew that edge; it was a sign of him getting impatient, and impatient vampires quickly got angry, and angry vampires…

He stuttered quickly, not wanting to incur his wrath. "Y-yes."

"Nice. You know I've never tried blood from an old British family." The vampire purred approvingly, and Draco felt the chill in his bones deepen at the change of voice. Dear Merlin, he hoped he was going to survive the next few weeks…

Asmodeus abruptly got up and rolled his eyes towards the vampire. "Oh, shut it. Before you give him a heart-attack from fright, I'll show him around. I'm sure you'll find something else to amuse yourself with in the meantime. Come on, Draco."

The man moved between him and the vampire, but Draco still saw the mouthed "Later" on the vampire's face, together with a very suggestive wink. He almost jumped when Asmodeus laid a hand on his shoulder and turned him around, leaving the room together with him.

Once the door was closed behind them, the man released his shoulder. "Don't worry about Daray, he won't harm you permanently. He's too afraid of Mariah for that."

From behind them, the vampire bellowed through the closed door. "I heard that, Rahkesh! I'm not afraid of her!"

Asmodeus called back. "Next time you see her, I'd like you to tell her that to her face!"

Except for a little bit of grumbling, everything was quiet behind them, and Asmodeus smirked. "You see, nothing to fear from him. Now come on, I'll show you your room."

Draco was seriously starting to doubt Asmodeus' sanity. Deliberately angering a vampire? The whole way upstairs, Draco expected to have the vampire come after them and attack. But, to his surprise, nothing happened.

Asmodeus stopped on the third floor, which apparently had once been an attic judging by the way the ceiling slanted high above them to the left and to the right. He opened the single door on the right side, almost in the center of the wall. It revealed a large, comfortably furnished room in red and orange hues that was impeccably clean and looked very inviting. Somehow, the colors reminded Draco neither of Gryffindor nor of blood, nor, Merlin forbid, the Chudley Cannons. They were more like the leaves in autumn, warm but not garish.

To the right hand of the door, several shelves were mounted on the walls, filled with books. On the left hand side, there was a wardrobe and a dresser, followed by another door. From where he was standing he could look out of the window straight ahead; the view was somewhat obstructed by several maple trees that were growing very close to the cottage. In front of the window, there was a simple desk with a standard-sized bed next to it. Otherwise, the room was completely bare except for several torch braces on the walls and an oil lamp on the desk.

Asmodeus cleared his throat, and Draco's attention snapped back to him. "As long as you stay here, this will be your room. The door to your left goes to your own bathroom; both Daray and I have our own on the second floor. The books on the shelves are all some you might be interested in, if you want to read. And since you don't have a wand, I have modified the spells on the torches and the lamp that you have to tap it twice to light them up, and three times to turn them off."

Asmodeus went ahead and demonstrated it with the torch closest to the door. "I have put up some wards that will – let's say, greatly discourage Daray from entering your room, but since he sometimes manages to pop even into my rooms unannounced, I'm not sure how much peace you'll get in here. I'll try to get him to leave you alone at night, but I can't promise anything. Otherwise, this room is yours.

"Since I don't have any house elves, any mess you make in here, you'll have to clean up again. The same goes for the kitchen downstairs, and any other rooms. Oh, and if you don't eat at least two full meals a day, or don't appear until noon, one of us is going to come upstairs and find out what's wrong. Any other questions?"

Draco looked around, trying to assimilate everything Asmodeus had said. "Am I… What are my chores?"

"None. You can treat this as somewhat of a vacation. All you have to do is care for yourself. Since Daray doesn't eat much solid food at the moment and I am quite busy, you will have to cook your meals mostly yourself. As long as you don't waste them, you can take any ingredients and food from the kitchen, and the stove will activate the same way as the torches in here.

"You can go explore the house and the grounds as far as the blood wards go, but the greenhouses are off-limits. Any doors inside that are locked are off-limits, too, except when one of us accompanies you. Anything else I have forgotten? Oh, yes. Here."

Asmodeus removed one of the stoppered vials from his belt, with the same viciously green potion inside that Mariah had given Draco mere hours before.

"This will make sure that nobody feeding from you, now or later, can learn anything about your time here. You will understand if I'm not too fond of other vampires learning any of my secrets. Take a mouthful every morning; this vial should be enough for the week. Should you stay longer, I will give you more of the potion. And mind you, I will know if you have taken your dose."

He anxiously looked at the vial, which Asmodeus had already unstoppered and was holding out in an unmistakable gesture. He reeled backwards unsteadily, warding off the bottle. "I… I have already had some today."

Asmodeus didn't seem surprised. "Since it probably was Mariah who gave it to you, that won't help a lot. This potion is brewed with the blood of the person who wants to suppress any information about them. So this one is to control your blood-memories of me and Daray. As long as it's only today, a second dose shouldn't be harmful."

Reluctantly, Draco took the vial and made the mistake of inhaling the fumes. Immediately he went into coughing spasms, completely unable to hold the vial in his hand steady. In between coughs, he could see Asmodeus move quickly to his side, but through the tears that had sprung up in his eyes he couldn't read his expression, so he instinctively shrunk backwards.

A strong hand grabbed his arm, and all of a sudden Draco could breathe again. His throat and lungs felt sore, probably irritated by the noxious fumes. But at least he could draw in air again without more than a slight hitch in his breath. Somehow, Asmodeus had managed to take the vial from him without his notice and steady the potion so that he didn't spill it all over the floor.

When Draco had calmed again, he became overly aware of the hand still resting on his arm. The hand removed itself without comment before he could stiffen at the contact, and Asmodeus was holding out the vial to him once again. He could see that none of the potion had spilled. How had Asmodeus managed that?

To his vast relief, the man didn't sound angry. "That was a little bit incautious of you. Hasn't Mariah warned you? Try drinking it down without inhaling the fumes this time."

Mariah hadn't warned him, but she hadn't given him any opportunity to contemplate the concoction, either. She had just forced it on him without any explanation.

More careful this time, he held his breath while swallowing a mouthful. The potion burned going down, and then the almost familiar feeling of the burn spreading, first to his blood and then to his brain, started. When he could think again he noticed that he had even managed to remain upright under his own power this time.

Asmodeus was watching him sharply, and when Draco slowly straightened again, he nodded once.

"Good. Should you need any other potions, just ask me or Daray, and depending on your request, we will give them to you. If you show yourself trustworthy, you might eventually be allowed in the potions lab under our supervision. And remember, one mouthful every morning.

"I will leave you to settle in now; if you want to eat with me, I will have lunch at one o'clock. Anything else?"

Mutely, Draco shook his head, still a little bit dizzy from the intense pain that had just left him. He barely heard Asmodeus closing the door behind him. Then he was alone. Perhaps his time here wasn't going to be that bad if he managed to avoid the vampire.

He started unpacking, a little bit surprised at how little of a portion of the wardrobe his clothes filled. At Malfoy Manor, he'd had at least two wardrobes of this size filled to the brim. At her mansion, he'd only had a dresser, and there his clothes had seemed to be considerably more.

Cutting off his thoughts, he concentrated on his work and got done quicker than he wanted to. Nervously, he sat down on the bed, not quite knowing what he was supposed to do now. He didn't want to go downstairs because the vampire was there, but he didn't want Asmodeus to come looking for him up here, either.

Since he didn't have a clock in his room and couldn't cast the tempus spell without his wand, Draco went by his hunger. When he finally found himself too hungry to care about the vampire, he assembled all his courage and opened the door. To his surprise, he hadn't been locked in as he had half expected. With nobody in immediate sight, he carefully stepped into the hallway and made his way to the stairs. Ghosting down the steps, he reached the first floor, looking around anxiously.

The cottage was oppressingly quiet, no sound telling where Asmodeus or the vampire might be. But there was a strange kind of thick atmosphere which he had already felt earlier. Biting his lip, he hesitantly moved to one of the first doors to his left. Asmodeus had said that he was welcome to help himself to food from the kitchen, but he had forgotten to mention just where this kitchen was.

Slowly pressing down the handle, Draco pushed against the door – only to find it locked. Shrinking back, he immediately moved to the opposite door, not wanting to see whether he would be punished for trying a locked door. The next one opened without any problems, revealing a large room with a big, oval dining table, and chairs to seat at least eight people around it. It was decorated with two pictures hanging between the two windows, but since the light was blinding him, he couldn't quite see what the motifs were. On the left-hand wall, there was a door that was currently closed – probably leading to the kitchen. On the right-hand side, half the wall was taken up by a large opening that led into the sitting room. It was cleverly designed so that it gave a connected impression, but nonetheless separated the dining room enough from the sitting room that he could barely make out the back of one of the armchairs.

Stepping carefully into the dining room, he instinctively ducked when he saw something black dropping down onto him from above. It was perhaps as big as a hand towel, and it – shrieked?

"Get him, Satan!"

Draco immediately froze in fear. He hadn't seen the vampire coming from the sitting room before; he would never have entered the room otherwise. The black thing that had dropped down onto him fluttered madly towards the vampire, shrieking all the way.

It settled on the vampire's shoulder, and he petted it. "Yes, I know, you're hungry. Don't worry, we're going to sample him soon."

Both the vampire and the – thing were staring at him hungrily, focusing on him with a predatory gaze that sent tremors of terror down his back.

Suddenly, the vampire bared his fangs in a toothy smile. "Well, little mortal, shall I introduce you? This is my pet, Satan. In case you don't know, he's a vampire bat, and just as hungry for you as I am." The vampire licked his lips suggestively, with the bat mirroring him eerily. "What do you say, shall we?"

The bat chirped as if it had understood the vampire's words, both of them staring at him with horrifying intensity. Before Draco could gather enough wits about him to run away, the vampire had already pounced on him, slamming him against the doorframe with inhumanly strong arms. Draco's head thudded painfully against the wood and, completely terrified, he clawed at the vampire's arms to get away. In vain; the vampire only pressed closer so that Draco didn't have any leverage anymore and had to realize that the vampire was a few inches taller than him.

Leaning so close as to almost touch nose to nose, the vampire purred. "Let me try him first, Satan, I want to make sure that you only get the best. His thoroughly inbreed pureblood lineage might have gone bad."

Draco's breath caught in his throat, and he struggled even more frantically, hearing scared little sounds from somewhere. Since the vampire was using his whole body to pin Draco to the doorframe, he had one hand free to bend Draco's head to the side, making him lock gaze with the bat that was ferally baring its needle-sharp teeth at him. The scared little sounds increased in intensity, and Draco finally realized that it was him making the sounds. Then he felt sharp teeth breaking his skin, spreading a strange calmness throughout his body. He didn't even realize he had stopped struggling; the only thought he was capable of in his daze was that it didn't hurt, just like with her.

He could see the bat hopping impatiently from one foot onto the other, chirping hungrily, but somehow he didn't care. On an unspoken signal, the bat suddenly charged at him and bit him in the ear. Only then did he realize that the vampire had stopped feeding because the terror was gradually returning. The small claws of the bat felt sharp against his skin, and its fur tickled his ear. It smelled musty, with an acidic and sulfuric note. He had trouble trying not to gag from the odor.

The more Draco became aware again, the more he realized that there was an animal, a vampiric animal, feeding from him, with the vampire still holding him against the wall, much too close for comfort. Frantically he was looking for a way out, but the cold hands around his neck and upper body held him immobilized.

When the vampire released him, he was so close to hyperventilating that he saw colorful spots in his vision, and his legs were so weak that he crumbled to the floor. Scuttling backwards away from the vampire, he was relieved to see the bat perching once again on its master's shoulder, squeaking at him almost mockingly.

The vampire nodded. "That's right, Satan. If the mortal's already that afraid of your teeth, I wonder what he's going to say to Sygra's." He turned back to Draco, continuing almost conversationally. "Oh, mortal, if I were you, I would stop moving just about now. Sygra's right behind you, and I don't see Rahkesh anywhere. He's the only one who can really keep her in check, you know?"

Immediately, Draco froze in horror, not daring to move a muscle. The vampire leaning against the doorframe didn't move either, but neither did he seem afraid, more amused.

At first, Draco didn't hear or see anything, but then he heard a slithering sound coming closer. Cold sweat broke out all over his skin, and his heartbeat that was already accelerated from blood loss tripled in speed. Something cold was touching his fingers, and something hissed…

Excruciatingly slowly, he turned his head as to not startle the animal, looking downwards to find out what it actually was. The four feet long, black and silver snake staring back at him sent the rest of his blood down to his feet, and he had to fight to stay conscious. Everybody thought that all Slytherins loved snakes. Everybody wasn't really wrong; Slytherins generally knew a lot more about snakes than the general populace. But most of that knowledge translated into recognizing the danger he was in. Draco knew just how deadly such animals could be, especially when they were of a species he had never seen before, didn't know him, and were much too close for comfort. One wrong move on his part, and he could anger it into biting.

The snake, poisonous from its looks, flickered its tongue at him, hissing all the while. It seemed to inspect his terrified figure, and he felt decidedly inadequate. He didn't dare move, just staring at black eyes in an equally black head.

Suddenly, a pair of old, worn leather boots appeared in his vision, and a tanned hand reached down to pick up the snake.

"Aw, spoil all my fun," the vampire whined, still leaning against the doorframe to the dining room.

That meant… Draco looked up to see Asmodeus curling the poisonous serpent around his neck, petting its head. "I see that Daray has introduced you to our pets?" The bat chattered and the snake hissed. "Don't worry. Both of them bite only when ordered, but I'd be careful when sitting down on furniture. Sygra likes chairs that are still warm from use, and Satan has decided that the couch is his. They don't like being squashed into upholstery."

Asmodeus frowned at the snickering vampire. "And you, I have warned you. I doubt that he's sitting on the floor merely because of fright; he's far too pale. If you have to feed on him, at least make sure he's still capable of getting around on his own, or give him some blood replenisher. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

Not taking heed of the still snickering vampire, Asmodeus turned around and vanished behind the door that had been locked earlier just as soundlessly as he had appeared – together with his snake, this time. Draco stared after them, trying to comprehend the fact that Asmodeus had just chastised the vampire for feeding on him, and then left them alone the next moment.

The vampire's mocking laughter interrupted his thoughts, his head snapping back to the current threat. "Well, now that you've seen her, I'm quite sure you prefer Satan's bite to Sygra's, don't you?"

Draco nodded jerkily, wondering what other kinds of pets were kept in this madhouse.

"Good," the vampire continued, "then you won't mind being our snack for the next week. Now, come on, judging by how low your blood sugar is you must be hungry, and it won't do for you to keep eating the stuff you've been eating so far, that can't be healthy."

Draco felt something poke his back and he jumped up in fright, trying to find out who or what was behind him this time. Nothing was there, but the vampire chuckled amusedly. "Had to get you moving somehow, didn't I? Now, see, about your new diet…"

The 'new diet' turned out to be almost exactly the same food Mariah's slaves were forced to eat when they were regularly fed on: lots of vegetables and salads, wholemeal bread, fruit, dairy products, and nearly fatless meat.

Under the vampire's watchful gaze, he was forced to prepare himself a meal according to his new instructions, and then eat it. Draco almost threw up, both from the taste and the vampire's constant attention.

When he was done, the vampire got up and patted him on the head. "Very good. You can be taught after all. Now keep to that diet. I'm already looking forward to my next meal. Oh, and here." The vampire tossed him a stoppered potions vial which Draco almost dropped in his surprise. "Blood replenisher. You will need it."

Draco fled back to his room, haunted by the vampire's cackling that somehow followed him to the third floor. Only when he had shut the door behind him did he dare breathe again. How was he going to survive in this house, with a snake crawling everywhere, a madman joking with vampires, and a vampire and his bat feeding on his blood?

Only the threat of someone coming up and start looking for him if he stayed away too long got him moving again. Eventually.

A/N: Draco's first impressions of Rahkesh and his mad little world. It was very enjoyable writing it…