Chapter 6: Choice Blood

Draco laid on his bed, but couldn't go to sleep. He wondered if it was true that every pureblood family had at least one muggle or Muggleborn relative. Also, what exactly was it that made his blood "choice blood."

Getting out of bed, he sneaked downstairs and into the hallway.

"Draco?" He looked at his aunt. "What's going on in there?"

"Nothing, Aunt Bella. We were up all night, so everyone's sleeping in today. We'll be alright come tomorrow."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and snarled. She brushed past him.

"Erm, where be Father?" Crap! Not again!

"In his study."

"Thanks."

Draco turned on his heel and strode down the hall.

"Did you just say 'where be Father'?"

Draco ran. He ran up the stairs to the Transfiguration classroom. He knocked on the study door. "Father, forgive my intrusion, but I have much to ask thee."

"Sure, but Draco, you're speaking in Old English again. I'll only talk if you speak in Modern English."

"Right. Sorry," Draco entered the room. "Sorry I barged in, but I have some questions."

Lucius nodded. "About your Vampire pet?"

"Just some things she said. Mainly about our ancestry."

"She said things about our family?"

"Not our family in particular, but more about every family in Slytherin having at least some Muggles in each family, though it might not be defined. Also about choice blood."

"Choice blood? You sure that doesn't refer to a Wizard's purity?"

"No. I don't think that has anything to do with it…Do you have the family tree with you?"

Lucius nodded. He stood and went to a closet. "Here, be careful with it."

"I'll just look at it in the classroom," Draco promised.

The poster was large. Draco found himself at the bottom. He traced his lineage upward. He stopped at a familiar name. "Mello?"

He looked closer at the line running vertical across. Sure enough, Malfoy was not the original family name.

Mello was.

The line above the Mello his finger had come to, Bartimaeus Mello, was quite clear in confirming Draco's suspicions. Choice Blood meant the blood of Augustan Mello.

"Dad," Draco called.

"You're not going to tell me you actually found a muggle in our family, are you?" Lucius called.

"I think it's worse than that," Draco shouted. "We have Vampire Blood."

Lucius slammed the door open and strode over to where Draco was standing. "Where?" Draco pointed at Augustan Mello's name. "Merlin's beard…Draco…of all things I'd expect to find out about our family this is not one of the things anyone should know. A vampire lord from two thousand years ago?"

"Two thousand years? Well, he was around when Octavia was at school. And that was about a thousand years ago…give or take a few."

"Yes…" Lucius muttered. "What are the odds of him still living now?"

Draco shrugged. "Gryffendor hunted him for a while, but never found him. If I was to guess he's alive, I'd say it's a possibility of…say…a twenty five percent chance he's still kicking it at about two thousand."

Lucius nodded. "It's possible…Draco." Draco turned to his father. "Not one word of this to anyone. Not even your mother must know. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded. He knew the risks. There was no need to remind him. Families with werewolves are shunned on the account of one relative. Having a vampire in the family brought the same isolation.

It must have happened in the generation after Mello's—his grandchildren obviously changed their name to delude people into thinking they were of a different blood line.

Draco rolled the poster back up and handed it to his father. "I'll see you in the morning, Father."

"Not tonight?"

"Maybe. The whole house was up all night, so…yeah. Night."

"It's almost noon! And Draco, not one word of you-know-what to anyone."

"Yes, Father," Draco called back over his shoulder. Once back in the common room, he sat on the couch. If he really was related to Augustan Mello…What would Octavia do to his family?

She is angry at him. Probably hates him now. Would she want to kill me if she knew?

Draco forced himself to stand and go to bed. He stared at the ceiling, clearing his mind. He didn't know when he finally fell asleep.

Draco was in a room in the Three Broomsticks. He looked about, wondering why it looked so different. Octavia strode past him. She had to be about sixteen or seventeen now. He followed her up the stairs into one of the rooms.

Augustan Mello was sitting at a chair lazily; his feet were propped up on the table. The windows were covered. He was sleeping.

"Augustan," Octavia whispered. The eyes opened and instead of looking at Octavia, he looked past her, at Draco.

Octavia's image vanished. "Well, what have we here?" Augustan asked, sitting upright. He stood. "A full grown Wizard now, are you? Draco Malfoy, was it? Technically your name should be Draco Mello."

"What do you want?" Draco snapped.

Augustan smirked. "How about we meet? Tonight. I'll be waiting here in this room for you. We have much to talk about."

"Fine."

Draco woke. The sun was beginning to dip down into the night sky. He showered and dressed, thinking all the while what Augustan wanted from him.

Whatever it was, Draco couldn't help feeling it had something to do with Octavia. He walked out of the common room with a few others who had gotten up for dinner. Some were complaining of headaches. Draco snuck away from those going to the Great Hall.

Heading out onto the grounds, he began to run. The sun was dipping lower into the sky, giving way to night.

It didn't take long to get to town. He entered the Three Broomsticks and strode over to the stairs, then jogged up them.

He turned right, as he did in his dream, he stopped at the second to last door.

"Enter," Augustan's voice ordered before Draco could knock. Augustan was younger than he appeared in Draco's dreams and Octavia's resonances. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd actually take my invitation."

"Get to the point," Draco snapped. "What is it you want?"

Augustan smirked. "You won't eat? You haven't done so all day. I've had this ordered just for you."

Draco stared at the meal on the table. Then he looked at the Vampire lord, "You won't eat?"

Augustan smirked wider, "I already have." He waved over to the bed. There lay a young witch from one of the other houses, a third year, Draco thought. He sneered.

"You're disgusting," he spat.

"She resembles her when I first met her. I think you know who I mean," Augustan said. "Octavia, that is. Sit, eat."

"I'm not hungry," Draco snapped. His stomach betrayed him. Augustan laughed. Draco grudgingly sat and stared at the food. It was everything he used to like—until Octavia's resonance took over him. He pushed the food away. "I came to talk. Not eat. Tell me what the hell it is you want to talk about."

Augustan blinked, his smirk vanished. It returned a moment later. "Very well." He sat across from Draco. "You released Octavia a few years ago."

"Unintentionally, but yes," Draco answered. "What of it?"

Augustan leaned back in his chair. "I wanted to thank you. Octavia does not know this," he stretched. "But she is my wife."

Draco blinked. He began to laugh. Augustan frowned. "You're wife? Don't you mean bride? Seriously, if she really is your wife, than why didn't you go to release her?"

Augustan overturned the table and grabbed Draco's throat. "You think I didn't try? That seal was meant to keep any vampires away—you, a descendant of mine—were the only one able to break the seal." Augustan thrust a hand in Draco's face. There were white scars running across his hand. "You see this, boy? This is the proof that I tried to release her. I tried for a hundred years to release her."

Augustan released Draco. Draco coughed and massaged his throat, breathing heavily. "And some brat who merely scratched himself on her stone prison was able to release her. What would you know of how I felt for that child?"

"You are definitely a pedophile," Draco accused.

"There's no such thing as pedophilia amongst the vampires."

"She was still a child when you met her."

"Yet I waited to make her mine until she graduated. I was willing to wait."

"And why did you? Why couldn't you just take her blood like you did that girl?" Draco pointed at the girl on the bed.

Augustan heaved a heavy sigh. "That was my actual intent when I first met Octavia. I was going to feast on her, but I found myself drawn to the child of Godric Gryffindor. I let her live, watching her grow and keeping a firm eye on the girl.

"The more I watched her, the more I realized I didn't want to kill her, but I did want her blood. I couldn't tear her from her father just yet. I learned of the familial piety between the founders and their blood children. I could not take her from her father just yet, but my longing for her grew.

"When she asked me why I had not kissed her, that was when I decided I'd wait for her to become a full fledged woman and no longer tied to her family. It hurt at times, being unable to take her as mine sooner, but I waited.

"I did not realize that she did not fear me because she was ignorant that I was a Vampire Lord. When I turned her, I was found out and forced to leave her be. When I came to collect her, I found her father had imprisoned her in that damn coffin."

Draco was transfixed. He didn't know if he ought to believe Augustan or not. "Pray tell, lad," Augustan continued, looking at him. "What would you do if you were me? Would you be able to spirit her away before being found out?"

"At least I'm trying to protect her," Draco snapped. "I could have said nothing and let my teachers and my father kill her. I'm not going to let some coward like you waltz into Hogwarts just to claim her—she hates you now, you know. Bloody hates you for turning her into one of your kind."

The back of Augustan's hand collided with Draco's cheek. "You're one to talk, boy," Augustan snarled. "Where have you ever been brave enough to do anything? Last year, I believe, didn't you attempt to kill the headmaster because your family was threatened by some Dark Wizard? It'd be very cowardly indeed to have succeeded merely to keep your life and the lives of your family. The brave thing to do would be to have died rather than kill a good man like that Headmaster."

"Then cowardice runs in the family, doesn't it?" Draco spat, standing. "You're just as despicable as I am, right? Well, I can tell you right now, I'm not letting you have her."

Augustan raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Now this," he laughed, "is unexpected. Dear Draco, have you fallen for her as badly as I have?"

"I never said that," Draco shouted. "I'm not handing her over, not to you or anyone else."

"So you have fallen for her," Augustan laughed. "Pity, you're the last of my line. I'd hate to kill you over one woman."

"I'm a Malfoy," Draco snapped. "Not a Mello." He placed a hand over the girl's mouth. She was breathing. Draco picked her up and walked over to the door. "I'm not your descendant."

The door closed behind him. Draco felt clammy.

I stood up to a powerful vampire, denied him what he wanted, called him a coward, and denounced my lineage connecting to his. Draco swallowed. I'm so dead.

Draco apparated with the girl in his arms to the gates of the school. He ran inside and carefully checked for the girl's house. A Gryffindor. How ironic.

However, he didn't know where to go.

With a sigh, he decided she'd have to stay in Slytherin House this night. He went to the common room. Everyone was up talking to Octavia again. They stared at the girl in his arms.

"Laura Tates?" a third year asked. "Why's she here?"

"Take her up to a bed, or something," he said to the third year girl. "Let her sleep for now."

The girl shrugged and, with two other girls helping, they took Laura to the Third Year's dormitory.

Octavia looked at Draco curiously. "What's wrong?"

Draco swallowed. "Augustan's in town." The room silenced. Octavia's usually calm look steadily went livid. "He and I spoke. I think I got him pretty mad."

"Pray tell," Octavia said levelly, "what doth he want?"

"He wanted me to bring you to him—I turned him down," he added at Octavia's snarl. "But I don't think we've seen the last of him."

"I will not see him! I wish never to have met him!"

"If it makes you feel better, I insulted him."

"I would have rather you killed him," Octavia snapped.

Draco began to feel angry. "Well sorry to disappoint, my lady," he growled. "I don't have any vampire killing equipment. I'll make sure to get them next time I'm in Diagon Alley—which won't be until after school ends! Hogsmeade doesn't have anything."

"Draco, can't you mail order?" Pansy asked, keeping hold of Octavia by her shoulders.

"Oh yeah, that'll go well with my dad," Draco snarled. "Hey, Dad, can I have forty galleons for a vampire hunting kit? No Dad, I'm not going to kill my pet Vampire—"

"PET?!" Octavia shrieked. "How dare you—"

Draco ignored her. "I'm going to kill her boyfriend, excuse me, ex-boyfriend. Yeah, that'll go well with him."

"Draco, what's got your knickers in a knot?" Blaise asked.

"I just stood up to a Vampire Lord and lived," Draco snapped. "I'm going to rant and rave until my nerves are calm. You got a problem with that?"

"Considering you just called a Vampire your pet, I'd say Augustan Mello is the last thing you ought to worry about," Millicent said.

"Where's Crabbe and Goyle?" Draco snapped. "That's it! Everyone but seventh years go to bed!" The room emptied quickly. Vincent and Gregory stared as though they had no idea what was going on.

"What the hell is your problem?" Pansy shouted. "Okay, I can understand how meeting Augustan Mello can be traumatizing, but do you have to take it out on Octavia?"

"Would you rather me take it out on you?" he snarled.

Pansy backed off. Millicent glowered at him. "That was uncalled for, Malfoy. Take it out on a pillow or something."

"And now the feminist steps in."

"Draco, mate, really, this isn't cool," Blaise snapped. "Neither Millicent, Pansy, or 'Tavia did anything to get you mad. Here," he waved his wand and a wine glass appeared with red wine. "Have something to drink. Cool your head."

Draco took the glass and downed it in a second. He refilled it several times before he was completely drunk.

Of course, he was far from calm, but he at least wasn't lashing out at the girls. Now he was just sobbing. To the others, this was a huge improvement from before.

Octavia watched him curiously. "Am I really a pet?"

"No," Pansy said. "Of course not. You're more human than most vampires. Draco's just traumatized. Knowing him, he's still very much a child. Give him a moment to calm down a bit. By tomorrow morning, he'll be regretting what he said tonight."

Octavia stood and walked to the window. "Forgive me, but I must go hunt."

"Of course, we'll handle it for you," Blaise said. Octavia nodded, smiling. She vanished.

"Now what are we supposed to do with him?" Millicent asked, pointing at Draco. He had stopped blubbering, finally somewhat calm. Blaise sighed.

"Hey, Draco, mate?"

"What?"

"Let's get you to bed."

"Whatever," Draco stood, stumbling. Vincent and Gregory caught him and helped him to bed. "Tell Tavia sorry I called her a pet."

"You'll have to do that yourself, Idiot," Millicent said to his back.

well, Draco certainly has...shall we say...vampiristic qualities...pale skin...so on and so forth :) I figured there needed to be a reason for him to have been able to open Octavia's coffin, so here it is! Thanks for reading.