Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N:Oh...hi? I know! I know! i haven't updated in forever! But, if you've checked my profile, you know i have been writing! Just it is a little difficult for me right now. Now this chapter may be shorter than others previous, but as my beta says, qaulity, not quantity, and she's given her squeal of approval for this (lol). Oh yes, that said, there is a lemon in this, remember this is M rated- so if you don't like it, skip to the end after the third pagebreak or something...i dunno. ffdotnet can be so uppity bout this sometimes, so just no one complain, kay? Good. Now, on with the story.
Warnings:SLASH, LEMON AHEAD, character death (we are so sad about that, by the way) and a perhaps some spellcheck errors- sorry!
Loss and Gain
"Aaaaaaaarrhhhhhh-!"
All members of the house snapped wide-awake, as a tortured scream rent through the air.
Heads throughout the entire household darted up, Hermione staring at Ron in the living room with wild, brown eyes. Ron merely stared back at her for a moment, mouth agape, before recognising the voice from which such a horrifying sound could spew.
"Ginny…" he whispered, and with not another moment he dashed off in the direction of the outside doors, Hermione skidding after him. They passed by Luna as she came down the entrance hall steps, with a rather wan looking Harry trailing behind her.
They followed hurriedly after the storming Wealsey.
The ramshackle group stumbled their way out onto the patio, peering about nervously in the oppressive gloom. Ron was the only one who didn't break to pause, frantically swinging his head to and fro.
"Ginny!" he shouted, "Ginny!"
There was no reply, and Ron rapidly moved on, Hermione and Luna rapt at his heels as they travelled round the corner onto the raised pathway of paving stones. Harry scampered after them nervously, already able to smell the sweet smell of death on the air. His stomach writhed uncomfortably as with his eyesight he managed to pick out a blot of blood-red colour in the darkness, lying some feet away on the stone slabs.
Harry heard Ron give out a muffled cry, and another exclamation of "Ginny!" from ahead. He winced and tentatively walked forward, an image looming out of the darkness of the night.
It was a scene that Harry was sure he wouldn't forget for many years to come. It was almost artistic in its construction.
Lying limply on the ground, blood slowly spilling onto the stone around her lay Ginny, eyes glassy and unseeing, and a look of horror on her face that not even death could undo. Her skin was pale and sallow already, and her flaming red hair lay strewn about her, growing darker as her blood began to seep into it.
Rose vines clung to the trellised flowerbeds on either side, and Ron knelt down beside the still figure slowly, unknowingly greatly resembling a knight. His blue eyes were wide, and his freckles lay stark against his paling pallor.
"G-Gin….? Gin….?" He murmured brokenly, a shaking hand reaching out to gently touch her shoulder.
As soon as it made contact, however, it was abruptly pulled back, Ron hissing slightly under his breath.
"S-she's cold….Hermione!" he roared, anger surfacing, "why- why is she cold?" he asked desperately, gaze never leaving his fallen sister.
But Hermione answer was merely a sob, her eyes wet and sparkling through her tears, which cascaded over the hands covering her face and down her cheeks, smattering the floor.
Luna was also tearing nearby, her usual vacant look diminished, making her dirty blonde hair limp, and her eyes ghostly; she looked vulnerable.
Ron took the silence as confirmation, and no one said a word, as he broke down into sobs, howling out angry cries through the hot scalding tears.
Harry could only watch on, apart from the scene, glancing down at Ginny's broken form. He swallowed heavily.
Oh Draco, what have you done?
Harry did not know how long they remained there, but as his mind was quite blank, he'd lost the meaning of time. However, he was aware when it came the point that Ron seemed to have shed all his tears he could possibly shed, and was now reduced to simply quivering and breathing through dry, heaving sobs.
It was with a great force of will that Hermione paused in her stuttering to softly tell Ron to come back inside, her voice breaking half the way through.
After a good ten minutes pleading, he acquiesced, but refused to listen to Luna's sorrowful interjection that they should leave the body where it was. Instead, he gently picked her limp, cold form up, her red hair cascading down form his arms, dripping slightly.
Ron however, had paid it no mind, and once they got inside, had tenderly placed her down on the couch, even moving to brush a lock of hair from her face.
Hermione's tears resurfaced, and Harry as extremely glad that the time hadn't yet come that they truned to him. His silence seemed to have made them forget about him entirely. He heard a sniffle, and a tilt of the head revealed it to be Colin, who was curled up on an armchair, appearing as small and lost as a five year old.
The tension was high, and Ron still said nothing, eyes dull and still fixed on the sight of his fallen sister.
Hermione failed to restrain a dry sob, and Ron's shock instantly turned to anger.
"You-! Why the fuck are you crying?! Huh?! It's not-it's not your sister that's just died!"
His final word rang into the silence, and Ron flushed cheeks immediately went white.
"She's…dead…" he said hollowly, and with that, he fell back heavily onto one of the armchairs, and buried his head in his hands. Small droplets wet the carpet beneath him.
"I…I just don't understand…" whispered Hermione finally, wet brown eyes peering fearfully around the room.
"What…what could have happened?"
Her voice was small and helpless, and she clutched herself alone for comfort in the middle of the room, gaze darting everywhere like a frightful bird.
It suddenly occurred to him that Ginny was the first person to die on that patio, and he had the feeling that she wouldn't be the last. He himself had fallen victim to death's clutches, only to be revived by his sire.
This was the home of a vampire after all, it seemed inevitable that humans, mortals, would die in this place; in fact, he recalled that Dumbledore had once said that no one had ever returned alive. And despite appearances, he hadn't either. Who was to say that Ginny wasn't merely the first? He gave her an observatory glance from the corner of his eye; she looked far more beautiful in death than she had ever done in life.
And it was Draco that had done it.
He swiftly pierced Hermione with a verdant gaze, from his position settled in one of the other armchairs. He regarded her intently for a moment before finally opening his mouth to speak.
"Hermione," he said lowly, sodden doe eyes locked with glowing green, "you never should have come here."
He could see the conversation they had had not even a day before filter through her head; her eyes widened and tears that had been welling broke free to flow down her face as she paled whiter than ash.
He couldn't bring himself to be moved from the horrified look in her eyes.
"Oh, god, I never thought- serious, I- oh god…"
Her frenzied whispers continued, fluttering in the unlit living room like spiders, until even Ron lifted his head.
"What do you mean, Hermione?" he asked vacantly, voice broken.
She spun around to face him, jumping like she'd been electrocuted by merely his voice. She gazed at him with eyes full of remorse and sadness, but all she could bear to say was,
"Oh god, Ron, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
She was interrupted by Luna's choked sob in the corner, and no one spoke a word. The silence swallowed them up in the dark like a shroud, and it refused to be lifted with utmost persistence.
They were all crying now, though still in the unearthly stillness. Even Harry.
Though his tearing eyes were for something a little different from the others.
It was just- he couldn't-…
He just couldn't bring himself to feel anything for the dead girl lying on that sofa. Not a thing. His previous annoyance with her had died, but now…nothingness. No remorse, sadness or grief, just a passing morbid curiosity, as if he knew nothing of her.
He had been getting used to the blurs that were his former life, but this…
He couldn't bring himself to summon an ounce of emotion for her, not even enough to shed false tears. The mortal…was nothing to him really. He could perhaps feel a little general distaste for Draco's doings, but only in regard to the fact that it caused a whole new slew of problems, and made it far more likely that they'd find out everything.
Which was an unnecessary nuisance.
And frankly, the thought was terrifying. For, as he looked on at what were once his best friends in all the world, something akin to his family, he suddenly realised that he would never be with them again. He couldn't, he didn't fit. They were human, and he-he was not.
He wasn't human anymore.
He was now separate, in the darkness of the world with Draco, and even Severus- vampires. They were his new world.
And the time had come for acceptance.
So, as on that dark night, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Colin sobbed over the loss of Ginny and her demise, Harry wept silently over his lost humanity, for one final time.
There was silence after that, for the longest time. Ron refused any sort of comfort, and both Luna and Hermione seemed content to simply cry till the tears dried. Colin still sniffled occasionally.
By the time the first lights of dawn arrived, Harry had long stopped any feel reflection and was verging on the edge of bored; he'd been cramped up this single chair for far too long, not to mention he desperately wanted to find Draco.
The damned vampire deserved some reprimand for this; what the hell was he supposed to explain this away? He'd stalled a little with Hermione, but they'd want a proper, full answer form him on what had really been happening since Hermione dropped him off.
God, that seemed so long ago.
He was also beginning to feel more than a little tired, a fact acerbated by the green light filtering over the horizon. Not to mention the slight ache in his stomach, a precursor to the more fervent itch in his teeth, signifying his need to feed. He really needed a proper meal.
He sighed, uncaring to the glance Hermione gave him, and finally simply let himself stand up, stretching his back to loosen the cramps. He'd wasted several hours down here, trying to be remorseful and polite, but his mood had quickly become irritable with tiredness and hunger, and so he was off to find a certain sire of his, though he wasn't entirely sure what he would do upon seeing him.
Bite him, kiss him or yell at him.
All felt equally likely in his somewhat hazy state of mind.
No one said a word as he left the room, though he felt the sharp gaze of Ron on his back. He didn't spare it much of a thought, he had things to do.
He found Draco in the gardens after not much search. In fact, unlike usual, he had managed to find the man in record time. The blond was sitting on the edge of a small stone wall, overlooking some of the more withered regions of the estate.
Even now, Harry couldn't retain the slight shiver as he heard one of the shrieking cries echo in the distance, fully knowing that it was one of the various white peacocks that roamed about. Damn birds.
The older vampire didn't seem to take note of him, and with silent strides, he easily came to a stand next to him.
They remained that way for several minutes, relaxed and just savouring the contentment of the other's presence. Harry felt his tense nerves sooth, and let his gaze drift longingly to the other's lap, which was looking incredibly inviting all of a sudden.
"See something you want, darling?" asked Draco softly, gaze still focused in the far distance.
Harry couldn't help the slight blush, or the voice somewhere in the back of his head protesting that he should be angry; Draco had caused all sorts of problems with his little possessive stunt, though a part of him was beginning to feel a little flattered at the same time. It was all just a confusing mess which would lead to an immense headache.. Best to leave his convoluted mind alone really.
Besides, what was done was done, no need to get worked up. Though he would chastise him for it later. Yes…later.
But for now…
Harry let a small smirk tilt his lips.
"Maybe," he said evasively, eyeing the blond's frame from the corner of his eye, suddenly feeling a little playful.
"Oh?" said Draco, finally turning about to face him, grey eyes hooded with an idle lethargy, though a spark glinted appreciatively. Harry narrowed his eyes a little, glancing warily at the older man, feeling something amiss. The other was plotting something.
Now what would he…-
Before he could even comprehend it, he had let out a slight shriek as he suddenly collided with the still dew damp grass, the scent dancing about him as the blades beneath him were crushed by his sudden arrival.
However, most of his attention remained on the blond vampire above him, who had tackled him to said ground. And who was currently nuzzling his neck with bites and small kisses, which Harry happily consented too, hands raising to entangle themselves into blond strands.
"Hmm, you smell much better this morning charmant, I'm glad that mortal's stench is off," he paused briefly to readjust himself, freeing a hand to go wandering down his little lovely's shirt and beyond.
"And now, I believe we have some catching up to do, don't you think, darling?"
Harry felt himself let out something suspiciously close to a giggle, as he thrust his head back into the grass, revealing more pale skin for Draco to run his lips over. He dug his nails into the skin on Draco's back as the blond pressed down with a particularly hard nip, leaving a darkening blush of reddening flesh in its wake.
In response, Harry deftly turned his head to reciprocate, revelling in the small shudder he caused as he trailed his tongue up a strong jaw to lavish attention on an ear.
He felt Draco give that deep, rumbling chuckle of his from above.
"My, my, feeling a little more frisky today, charmant?"
Harry couldn't form a verbal reply; he relied on the sharp gasp he gave as a hand deftly pulled down a zipper, pressing hard against his hardening cock. Uh…it was so…good.
He thrust his head back against the grass, his hair spilling around his head like a dark halo of silky tresses as his grip on Draco's shoulders became bruising. The older vampire gave a rumbling growl from above him, and the hand palming him shifted a little.
Draco, ignoring the ensuing whimper of disappointment, moved to draw down jeans further, before lifting a creamy pale thigh as his charmant hissed a little at the feeling of cool autumn air against his heated skin, which was flushed a delightful pink against the expanse of milky white.
He couldn't help but chuckle lightly, as Harry vainly attempted to not buck his hips in want of greater friction, instead squirming roughly below him; that was going to leave grass stains.
He felt his fangs extend on their own volition as he nuzzled the soft skin of Harry's inner thigh, leaving small lines of red where they passed. As the skin broke, he felt Harry shudder underneath him, curtailing moans at the painful pleasure by biting harshly into his lip, causing blood to trickle down his chin. The poor little thing was already beginning to tense up, and shudder and jerk. Draco continued past the soft delicate skin of the inner thigh, scraping lightly as he drew near the by-now weeping erection. He gave the tip a taunting lick as Harry began to pant, dark green eyes hazy and unfocused.
What a beautiful sight.
Smirking to himself, grey eyes burning silver, he let his nose trail up, tongue following in a leisurely manner as sharp little breaths came from somewhere below.
He barely took the head in his mouth, and barely had to suck as he drew his sharp canines over the delicate skin, before he felt the body tense below him, and the overwhelming scent of grass as Harry twisted a whole handful into tiny pieces as he grasped at them futilely, as he was consumed by the hot burning whiteness that removed every single thought or worry from existence.
Crying out, he barely heard his sire's dark laughter from above him, and merely groaned as he felt his clothes being readjusted on his limp frame. He took no more notice as he felt a warm tongue lap at the spilt blood that had seeped from his bitten lip.
His mind was blissfully blank and without care, and he was surrounded by the overwhelming urge to simply sleep. With a slight frown through his hazy pleasure, he fisted Draco's shirt before pulling him down for an admittedly rather sloppy kiss, taking the blond by surprise at the others strong grip.
He was left to his amusement however, as Harry's grip slackened as he fell off to sleep, curled into his sire's chest.
A/N:So there we go, after a long silence, that should not be repeated. Sorry about the slight shortness, but its almost 3000 words (which was not my laziness-completely). Anyway, as always, i adore your reviews, and i'm amazed how much response i've gotten for this story-really. And as i actually do depend on reviews for survival (a terrible condition really), it makes me happy to get them-lol.
Next chapter, things'll start getting dangerous again. After all, i'm only about 4-5 chapters from the end...hehehe.