A/N: Happy back to school season. *Wipes brow* Ok, well it looks like I've got the outlining mostly done for this story. According to my notes, it's going to be around thirty chapters. I'm very sorry for the late update. . Oh, and please drop me a line after you read—I'd really like to know if you like where I'm going with this. It's much appreciated.
Chapter 23
"Draco!"
The wizard's head lolled to the side, loose gravel dropping off his slick skin. "Class starts at nine," he groaned.
"Oh, Merlin, Draco, you passed out while I was running—you scared me! Wake up, already!" Hermione hissed. "We don't have time for this."
Draco felt himself stirring to consciousness, and his mind was suddenly aware of his body's pain. The cold heat of an open wound was fanned by the sudden presence of a weighty pressure. Hissing through his teeth, his eyes flickered opened, watching the vampire push a scrap of cloth down onto his shoulder. He was fairly certain that his 'fractured' collarbone had been snapped in two.
"Where are we?" he growled, trying to remember why he was so angry with the woman bent over him.
"Between two stores, still in Surrey." Hermione's expression was dour. "Why did you do that, Draco? What were you thinking?"
The wizard raised a brow. He had a feeling that she wasn't expecting an actual answer. "I thought it would be fun to separate my arm from my body, I suppose."
She released her tight hold on the wound. He grimaced when the cool night air crawled inside the cuts. When he looked back at her, he saw that her guilty eyes were on her blood-caked fingernails.
"I didn't mean to hurt you so badly," she whispered, as if someone had passed by their little alleyway. "I was just trying to get out of there before Tonks saw us. I don't think it worked, though. I think she saw your face."
"Bullshit, Hermione." Draco threw his head back against the damp black top. "You were angry, and you wanted to punish me."
"Not like that," Hermione insisted. "But you made that noise, and when she turned. . . I just reacted." She shook her head, as if telling herself to move on. "Let me help you up."
Draco complied, looping his good arm around her neck so that he could get onto his feet. He growled at the pain slithering across his torso. It felt as if tiny daggers were scraping under the skin. Hermione led him to the closest wall and propped him against it.
She stepped away from him, turning her back to his crippled form.
Draco swiped his own blood off of his chin, holding the messy hand out towards her back. "What? You hungry again?" he mocked.
She growled, turning to glare at him. Her eyes flashed a livid red. "That's not it! Draco, I'm sorry I hurt you," she bit. "But I'm not going to be able to stop myself so long as you keep making stupid decisions. Now, I need you," she said, "to tell me what you wrote on that notepad."
Draco looked out the corner of his eye, noting the bags of rotting foodstuffs and paper containers beside a door in the wall. Something told him that the restaurant it inevitably led to was probably closed and the lock slid into place.
"There's no way you'll outrun me—your foot and leg are still injured."
Draco felt the statement was supposed to end with the word "idiot," but he didn't press it.
"Why?" he began. "Why did you run from them? It wasn't like they were Death Eaters. Why would you run from your own friends? And don't even bother saying it has something to do with Potter."
"It does!" Hermione snapped. "I. . ." She looked away, her eyes glittering in the moonlight. "Do you honestly think they'd want a vampire helping Harry?"
"But they're like you, you all belong to the same bloody do-gooder's club. They could probably help you with your problem," Draco answered. His expression softened when he saw her face drop. "Or are you afraid they'd be right, that you're too dangerous to help King Potter take his crown?" He released an uneasy breath. "That's it, isn't it? You think you're dangerous."
Her eyes darted up, wet with unshed tears. "Look at you, Malfoy. You've said it yourself, more than once."
"You wouldn't do this to your friends," Draco answered.
Hermione's eyes widened with disgust. "Draco. . . I don't want to do it to you! And I don't know that for sure, that I wouldn't hurt them."
"You would," Draco agreed, "hurt them. Most likely." He gave a pained smirk. "If you didn't have a distraction from your hunger, that is."
A silence grew between them. The vampire stepped forward, taking his hand gently. She forced a small smile. "Thank you," she said, "for that."
She inclined her head, her lips kissing the red smear from his thumb. With cool, gentle fingers, she lifted his palm to her face, letting her cheek rest against his pulsing capillaries.
"How did we get here?" she asked, her voice barely a mutter. "How did we ever get here?"
Draco felt his face heat at her touch, at her little kiss. "I don't know," he replied. Honestly. There was no explanation he could give. Why was it that he wasn't disgusted by her? Or filled with hate? Where was his anger hiding?
It's the blood between us, her voice answered.
She shut her eyes a moment, her nostrils wide as she inhaled his scent.
"We can't stay here," she stated, breaking away from her want. The vampire held back her lust. "I might have thrown them off a bit, but they'll catch up soon enough."
"What are you afraid off?" Draco asked, thinking of the werewolf. Surely that man would understand what Hermione was feeling. "Really?"
Her eyes were filled with remorse.
"Oh," Draco breathed, suddenly recognizing the expression as something more: shame. He knew that one well. "You're afraid they'll find out about us. About the feeding, and the other stuff."
Hermione released his hand. He'd shattered the moment, and she was cold again. Dead. "I need to know if it's still safe to meet with Harry," she explained. "What did you tell Tonks in that note, Draco? Why are you blocking that from me?"
"Because I can," Draco sneered, though he didn't feel up to the expression. "It's nothing that concerns you."
"Draco," she warned.
"Fine," he snapped. He felt the heat moving to his eyes, burning beneath the lids. "I told her. . . I signed my name to it, and I told her to tell my mother. Tell her I was alive." He bit his gum. "Mother probably doesn't know. I don't think the others would have said anything. And she wasn't there the night I was taken."
Warmth rushed over him, and he knew it didn't come from within. He'd dropped the wall between himself and the vampire, and she was pushing her heart against his. He felt wetness against the length of his nose and swiped it away bitterly.
"Isn't that sweet."
The wizard's heart jumped against his ribs, and he looked up so quickly that his neck crackled. Hermione was at his side in an instant, blocking him from the creature in the shadows. Draco peered over her short shoulder, watching wide-eyed as Sanguini stepped out from behind the building, his boots clicking against the ground.
"So good to see you children bonding," he smiled, a deep chuckle at his bobbing throat. The vampire's eyes were narrow, expressing a strange mixture of contempt and glee. "Imagine my surprise, children. I set my nose after you two, tracked you down, and I smell, instead of two living beings, a human and a vampire in the same company."
"We're not your concern, Sanguini," Hermione bit.
"Yeah, so go the hell away," Draco added.
Sanguini shook his head, smiling, as if some outrageous joke had been told. "And to find that the vampire was not the little dragon but the girl—the meal becomes the mistress. How very amusing that was."
The smile on his face had dropped, though. "The Dark Lord isn't going to be pleased with me. You see, I'm to deliver you, Ms. Granger, alive. But it seems that is impossible. It will pain me to break the news of your demise to him."
"Your condolences aren't needed," she hissed. She hunched forward, lowering her body to prepare for an attack. "Crawl back to Voldemort and deliver the news, already."
Sanguini raised a narrow brow, grinning. "Oh, but I have other plans. You two were very naughty children, and I expect that your father will be eager to find you. At least, that's what I'm counting on."
Draco shivered against Hermione's back, a voice screaming at the back of his mind. He blocked it, his rapid pulse against his ears, holding back the noise.
"Darien's dead," Hermione said. "I thought you knew that, since you burned him and all."
Draco touched her arm. One glance into his gray eyes told her the reply before Sanguini had a chance to form it: Darien was alive.
"But we didn't, Ms. Granger," Sanguini explained. "I know that you poisoned him, but it seems that wasn't enough. He was missing by the time we arrived." The vampire's voice lowered, his eyes dark when they met Draco. "Don't worry, though, he won't have time to punish you. When he hears you screaming for mercy, he'll come out of hiding to finish you off. Then, I'll have a little word with my old friend about taking what isn't his."
Hermione stood a bit straighter. "You plan to use us as bait?"
"Well, the Dragon, at least." Sanguini shrugged, a small grin on his face. "Your ashes will be going to the Dark Lord before Darien has a chance to collect them."
Draco wanted to reply, but a wave of nausea swept over him, forcing his mouth shut. Dragon. . . Answer me, Dragon. The wizard ground his teeth and swallowed to stop the acid from coming up his throat. Darien was there, somewhere inside him, calling to him. But Draco refused to listen, seeing instead the image of Darien bleeding out, paralyzed on the pale bathroom floor as he was fed to Hermione. Draco opened his eyes to the reality before him a split second before Hermione's coiled body impacted with Sanguini's unprepared form.
Darien's voice was silent again, replaced with Hermione's once more. I don't know if I can hold him off!
"I'm not leaving," Draco whispered, knowing that both of the vampires could hear the words.
"Good," Sanguini growled, catching the woman with both hands.
The newsprint pages of the early paper were caught in the air as the two beings moved, gripping each other in a vice and turning in some great circle far too fast. Draco watched them dance a moment, stunned by the beauty of their twisting bodies, pushing back and forth and from side to side. The hypnotizing grace of their movements was destroyed when Hermione was separated and thrown against the locked door. It shattered around her form, splinters and green, moldy paint catching in her wild hair and piercing her skin. She caught herself on the thin frame, yanking off the board against her hand as she jumped forward.
Draco flinched when he saw the male vampire's muscles tense for a blow. Hermione was strong, very much so, but Draco was under the impression that she didn't have much experience in fighting without the use of a wand. He turned away before Hermione made contact with the other vampire, knowing already what was coming.
Sanguini caught her with a defending arm before throwing a hard slap at her face and knocking her aside. His left leg whipped out, connecting with her back and forcing her head to slam into the opposite wall with a sickening crack that traveled the length of her body. She bounced off of the brick, falling to the ground without a sound. Sanguini stepped over her form, not bothering to look down.
The vampire set his eyes on Draco, baring his fangs with a predator's sure smile. The wizard could have run. But he wouldn't have gotten far. Instead, he slid down the wall, sitting with a thud on the ground and staring up at the approaching creature.
"Where's that smart tongue of yours now?" Sanguini snarled.
Draco opened and closed his mouth, wondering what his last words should be. Then he caught the movement behind him and decided that he didn't need them after all. Draco's eyes followed the three foot strip of wood in Hermione's raised hands. It disappeared in an instant and reappeared, wet and slick, out of Sanguini's chest. Sanguini collapsed on his side with a stunned expression on his face. As if in protest, he clawed at the hard ground and sputtering blood and curses. Draco pulled his legs away from the creature, glancing down to find himself once again sprayed with red.
"I'll be back," Hermione assured.
Draco didn't question her when she hobbled through the door to the restaurant. It must have been the cook's exit because she returned with a square cleaver. Draco followed the silver gleam of the blade and pushed himself along the wall, out of Hermione's way.
"Let's make sure this time," she explained. Her hand hesitated only a moment before she slung the blade down into the other vampire's thick neck. Sanguini grew still.
Hermione rolled his body over with her foot before dragging herself to Draco's form. She slid down the brick, sitting at the wizard's side. Draco could see her better in the moonlight, and his mouth grew dry. Her forehead was split down the middle, light, thin blood pouring between her eyes and over her nose. Draco reached out, catching her shoulder to hold her up.
"Hermione?" he questioned. "Can you hear me?"
Her eyes were unsteady and squinted against the pain, but her head moved up and down in a slight nod. She touched her head with prodding fingers, wincing. When her hand came away soaked, she reached into her front pant's pocket, withdrawing a tiny vial that, amazingly, remained unbroken.
"I don't think that works on your kind," Draco said.
She pushed it into his hand. "I'm sorry," she managed. It was a request.
"Don't be," Draco said, unwilling to try and stop her this time.
He pulled out the slender cork and tipped the bitter liquid onto his tongue, swallowing. When the taste was only a ghost on his lips, he slid his hand along her body and cupped the back of her head, pushing her face down against his neck. A sharp breath escaped his lips when she dig into his open wound instead, more viciously than before, swallowing deeply and without pause. The dizziness took him over in seconds and he felt himself falling backwards and the vampire falling forwards, crushing him.
He gasped, kicking out, but she only tucked her knees into his sides, straddling him. Draco remembered it again, the night Darien had made his great mistake in touching Hermione. Draco had been awoken that night to teeth in his neck. This felt the same. So much—lust, life, hate—all of it there and spilling out of him and into her. The wizard felt his warmth fading, even as the potion tried to work its magic.
His foggy gaze caught a bright, red light a moment before it slammed into Hermione's back, tossing her against the wall and tearing her teeth from his skin. Draco's shock couldn't have been any greater than Hermione's. She dodged the next spell cast her way, landing several feet from her companion.
Draco could hear the sound of footsteps at the alley's entrance, but he cocked his head back to see Hermione, instead. A hurt expression wrinkled her porcelain skin, healed of the wide wound that had been there a minute earlier.
"Hermione?" breathed a man's voice.
Draco didn't have to look that way to see Lupin's face. He knew what it must look like. He could see it reflected in Hermione's eyes, the disgust and horror, and the disappointment. Her sad eyes found Draco's and pleaded him to stand.
"I can't run," he tried to say, grasping at his bleeding shoulder.
Hermione's broken expression turned to stone. I'll find you, she promised, jumping to her feet like an animal. She was a blur, disappearing through the restaurant's exit, her feet barely hitting ground.
Draco heard the footsteps closing in and reached out, grabbing the leg of the closest person, Lupin. He fully expected to be kicked, but the older wizard came to a dead stop, instead, shouting out for his partner to do the same.
"Nymphadora, wait! We'll send a locating charm after her. We can't catch up to. . .one of the those on foot," Lupin breathed, pulling his foot free of Draco's grasp. However, his eyes were not on the wizard but the decapitated vampire a few feet away.
"Malfoy—it was him, Remus, at the house. I told you I saw his face," Tonks huffed, wiping the sweat off her blue hair and taking to one knee beside the wizard. She had her wand out, defensively. Draco attempted and failed to glare at her as his pockets were patted. "No wand," she said. "Remus, he needs a healer."
Lupin stared down at Draco in disbelieve. "Hermione Granger," he said, shock in the too-old eyes that had found the bite in the younger wizard's shoulder. "Was it really her. . .? She did this?"
"Remus, snap out of it!" Tonks interrupted. "We need to move him, now," she insisted. "He might have injuries I can't heal."
Draco shook his head. "Potter," he managed, fighting off the fatigue of blood loss. "Potter can explain it. . .explain her. Ask him."
Lupin shook his head. "You'll have to try to patch him up," he said, glancing at Tonks with a solemn frown. "We can't take him somewhere as public as a hospital if there's any way around it. He's supposed to be dead, after all. And not by our hands."
"What was he saying about Harry explaining. . .Hermione?" Tonks asked, a frown on her face. "Would Harry really have lied about having Draco Malfoy in his house?"
The werewolf's eyes were dark. "Let's find out."