Author's Note: Oh, hello! Thank you all for the reviews. Here is chapter six. You guys are all ready for Draco to pop back in, I'm sure. ;)
Chapter Six
Harry awoke feeling sore, and as thirsty as ever. "Brilliant." Yet, even from the bedroom he could smell another vial sitting in the living room. Harry eagerly got up to get it, when suddenly it hit him: wasn't it a little odd for them to send him blood two days in a row? The agreement had been every third day, and it seemed odd to break that now after a week and a half of conforming.
A variety of thoughts flashed threw his head. What if they had told someone else? Or perhaps it had been forced out of them? Blood was often used to lure vampires. Their defences would be down, so it would be easy to attack. Harry decided he needed to proceed with extreme caution. The blood was too irresistible to stay away from all day. If things got too bad, he could probably take down a guy or two; there couldn't be more that fit in his house.
Cautiously, he edged out of his room. Ron seemed to be the only one sitting on his couch. Maybe that wasn't Ron after all! Maybe it was someone using Polyjuice Potion. Harry crept out quietly, his lips pulling back into a snarl already. Yet, at that exact moment, Ron looked over. He simply waved friendlily at Harry, smiling.
"It's Luna's blood," he said, gesturing toward the vial that lay perched on Harry's desk. As if it were somehow normal that he would be here, waiting for Harry to get up with another vial of blood…
"How long was I asleep for?" Harry asked.
"Over twelve hours for sure. Not too long, though, I guess. I don't really know." Harry paused. Was Ron joking around? There was no way they would waste their own blood every day on him. And, yet, his nose distinguished it to be, quite clearly, Luna's blood.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Ron smiled overly cheerily. After what had happened last night, the reaction shocked Harry, and he paused again.
"Last night…?"
"It was silly. But just drink the blood now." Ron sounded as if he was anxious to see it. Something was off here. Ron was up to something. But clearly he wasn't going to find out what until he drank the blood. He sauntered over, and pulled out the pop with ease. The squelch before the pop made Ron wince slightly, and he looked down at the red in the vial, yet he quickly recovered.
"Are you alright?"
"Just drink it, Harry. You need your strength." Still eyeing Ron, he took a gulp of the blood. It didn't seem to be defective or anything. It was just like any other time. Harry felt immensely stronger, and he sighed contently. His stomach bubbled up, and he finally smiled again. A zingy, odd aftertaste lingered in his mouth, and a slight smile curled up upon his lips. It was quite like Luna, indeed. Each time he drank, he saw it more and more clearly. Blood taste clearly was linked to personality.
"Good, well, you seem to have perfect timing," Ron muttered. Harry was about to ask for what, but then he heard the fireplace roar. Someone else was –
Oh, Gods, it was him. Draco. No, Malfoy. Harry fell backwards, horrified. What was he going to do? That smell was so familiar. If the blond git actually showed his face, he'd have no self-control, would he? Harry backed up against a wall, and held his breath. Still, he knew Malfoy was coming closer. Harry trembled, and his skin prickled. Even holding his breath, someone, his throat went dry, and he sputtered, leaning towards the wall for support as he breathed in.
And then he saw him – drop-dead gorgeous, as always. His hair was meticulously done in a style to make it seem just the right accent of messy. And his pants sinfully clung to his legs. Harry gasped and hissed, his fingers digging small marks into the wall. Malfoy was beyond anything. He just looked so shaggable. So delicious. Never had Harry wanted to attack someone more quite like that.
"Fuck…" Harry's eyes closed, and he moaned as the scent hit his breath. Behind the smell of hair gel and shampoo, Draco smelled a bit like jasmine and lavender. Harry gasped, trying to push away the thought of what his mouth would taste like. And he was just a step away.
"Ron, why?" Harry asked, beginning to slide down the wall. It was taking a considerable amount of effort to not just run away. Or at Draco for that matter.
"You didn't even tell him? I should have guessed you'd leave it up to me to explain everything. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to have courage." They had planned this together? This didn't make sense. Still, Harry couldn't help but notice that Malfoy's foot tapped impatiently at the floor, and he sighed tersely. He wasn't particularly fond of being here.
"We do have courage. I just wanted this to be a surprise. You're not going to fall through with this, are you?" Ron asked. They talked as if Harry wasn't in the room.
"I may be beyond your standards, but I don't often lie. Well, it depends about what, actually. And I'm also not one to change my mind so easily on things. I'd rather not be here, but I didn't have much choice in the matter, now did I?"
Harry pulled back, whispering in a raspy voice, "Would someone care to tell me what is going on here? Why the fuck is Malfoy in my house?" Harry began to cough as he held his breath. It was much easier, when the irresistible waft of Draco wasn't merely a step or two away.
"You can hardly call this a house. And Weasley sent me an owl earlier, and told me that he needed me." Malfoy shrugged his shoulders as if it were a simple story. Harry couldn't believe he was talking this so seriously. Fuck, he was so close. All Harry could do was bite back a whimper.
Finally, Draco's smirk turned down to a scowl again. "At least hurry up. I don't have time for this." Malfoy sneered at Weasley, and shook his head. "This doesn't mean I like you any better than I did before, Potter."
"What doesn't?" Harry practically threw his hands up in the air, screaming it. "If you would at least explain to me what the hell you're doing here…"
"Weasley told me that you're a vampire." If Harry could blush, now would have been the most likely moment. "And he also told me that I'm your mate." For a moment, all Harry could do was stand statue-like and stare. Malfoy knew he was a vampire? Fear flashed through him; this was bound to end with a stake in the heart. There was no way in hell Malfoy would just let it slide that Harry was a vampire. Was there?
"You did what, Ron?" Harry spoke at a growling whisper, and Ron took a step back for precaution. "And why the fuck would you do that?" Malfoy's sneer became more defined, and rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, you're making me wonder what I'm doing here. I have to go to a photo-shoot in half an hour. If you decide to let that Golden Boy personality drop, send me an owl or have Weasley Floo me." He began to walk away, but Ron stopped him, grabbing his arm. Malfoy shook it off, and looked like he was about to yell, but Harry again interrupted.
"Just someone say why, please." He pressed himself up against the wall, attempting to resist the urge to lunge at Ron. He had touched his mate. It was his fucking mate. No one else was supposed to touch Dra – Malfoy. No one.
"I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself. You looked so vulnerable yesterday, Harry," Ron muttered, looking down at his feet. "Hermione and I decided it might be best if we asked Malfoy for help. Believe me, I didn't particularly fancy it. He is a slimy git…"
"I'm still in the room, Weasley. Watch your tongue." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his hand twitched above his pocket. But soon it relaxed. "I'm not used to restraining myself. Consider that your warning."
"Yes, well, anyway," Ron continued, ignoring Malfoy's threats, "I thought that maybe Malfoy could help you."
"When I get staked, it'll be on your conscious." Harry glared at Ron, his entire body trembling. What was he thinking? Malfoy couldn't be trusted with this. He would probably go to the Ministry and tell the moment he got a chance. Harry curled up, and he seemed to deflate in front of their eyes.
"Do you honestly have such little faith in me, Potter?" Malfoy stepped forward, and Harry's breath hitched. He was so close, and he smelled so good. The venom flooding into his mouth was painful to swallow at this point.
"Did you ever give me a reason to trust you?" Harry's voice was raspy. When he looked up, he didn't fail to notice Malfoy flinching. "Does the red bother you?" His chuckle was dark.
"I don't like you Potter, but that doesn't mean I want to let you die."
"Aren't you afraid I'm going to kill you?" Harry barely whispered it, and Malfoy paused. "Maybe I'm a threat to everyone. Wouldn't it be better to turn me in?"
"Weasley promised you weren't dangerous. And I have my wand."
"That won't be enough if I actually want to kill you."
"Are you trying to make me turn you into the Ministry? I don't really have time to deal with a suicidal vampire." The words wrapped around Harry like a blanket soaked in cold water. Pressing further against the wall, he made a whimpering sort of sound. "I thought not."
"I need to get going," Ron said, looking apologetically at them. "I hope you don't mind. But I promised Hermione I'd meet up at a pub fifteen minutes ago." Harry waved and muttered goodbye, while Malfoy leaned back into the couch. Harry's eyes immediately were pasted to him. He leaned back and relaxed, his legs spread out almost suggestively. His eyes fluttered shut, and it was obvious that he was tired. Harry moved forward, wanting nothing more than to hold him or stroke his hair or anything.
"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" He didn't even open his eyes when he said it.
"I'm just – What are you doing here, really, Malfoy?" Malfoy sighed.
"Honestly, I just want to help you."
"Are you only doing this to be silly about repaying that life debt from the Room of Requirement?" There had to be some motive, didn't there? And a life debt could have been considered serious business. There had to be a driving factor. Harry almost felt sure of it. Yet Malfoy seemed to read into him.
"It has nothing to do with that. If anything, you had repaid a debt to me. And believe it or not, I'm doing it out of the kindness of my heart." He scowled, and his eyes opened as he levelly looked at Harry yet again.
"I repaid you? You're mental."
"If I recall correctly, you almost killed me sixth year." Harry's jaw fell open. He hadn't even thought of that. But, true enough, had Snape not gotten there fast enough, Draco would have been –
Malfoy. It was Malfoy, not Draco. Mate or not, it didn't change anything. At least he wished it didn't.
"I'm sorry…" Harry mumbled. Malfoy smirked.
"Well, then. Glad we've settled that." Harry began to approach him cautiously, but stopped as Malfoy began speaking again. "But let me set out a few rules, first."
"Rules?"
"I'm not planning to let you snog me." He chuckled as Harry's face fell. What was the point of Malfoy even coming here if he wasn't going to let him do anything worthwhile? Harry went to sit back down, but Malfoy continued yet again. "You can touch me, bu – For Merlin's sake, Potter, get your mind out of the gutter, and wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face." The blond blushed a little, but quickly calmed down again, scowling a little as Harry refused to stop smirking. "I mean hold hands. The touch should be enough."
"You'd let me…" The look on Harry's face spoke of incomprehension, even confusion.
"I didn't come here to taunt you, Potter. Even I don't particularly fancy the Golden Boy dead. Now could you hurry up? I actually have to leave soon – photo-shoot and all." His foot impatiently tapped at the floor, and Harry moved over tentatively.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Merlin, I really don't see where the courageous aspect of Gryffindor house comes from." He rolled his eyes, and waited. Harry sat down beside him and gasped.
Just this close was almost good enough. He could feel a sort of radiation. A low moan escaped his mouth, and he absorbed the waves of DracoDracoDraco that washed over him. Those spices, and that smell – so much like him – attacked his nose. Harry wet his lips, and swallowed the venom. It painfully went down, like a knot in his throat, and his breath remained uneven.
Tentatively, he leaned over, and placed his hand atop Draco's, and it was as if the world had been thrown off balance. Gravity ceased to exist. He flew so quickly that time went in reverse. It was better than the warm buzz of Felix Felicis, and he still felt invincible. Harry's head leaned back, and he grabbed onto Draco's hand, almost crushing it. There was a squeak of protest that Harry promptly ignored. Drawn-out moans flew from Harry's lips, and he slid down the couch slowly.
And felt like he was doused in cold water. Draco snatched his hand away, his cheeks a deep shade of red. "I feel like I'm being sexually molested." He pushed himself off of the couch and immediately took several steps back. "I – What the hell, Potter?"
It was almost impossible to breathe. Harry doubled over, and gripped onto the couch. Fuck, he wanted to pin down Draco so badly. All it would take would be one leap. Harry could hear his heartbeat, and could tell how anxious and frightened it was. Its beat seemed double the speed it should have been, and the slight tremble of his hands even remained in Harry's attention.
All he needed to do was move. Harry began to draw himself back, ready to spring, his teeth already elongated and ready to slice through Malfoy's flesh. It would be warm and delicious. He could already picture the red drip drip dripping down his face. His leg muscles tensed as he drew himself up, and –
BAM.
Malfoy's arm flew up quickly, and chains sprung out of the tip of his wand and flew across the room, pinning Harry to the wall. "Just one bite, Malfoy," Harry growled. Malfoy was beginning to irk him. All he wanted was a simple taste. But even a touch of their hands had been too much for the prick.
"Back to Malfoy, is it? At least that…" Apparently Harry had been saying some of his thoughts aloud. "I have to go. I'll owl Weasley to unchain you or something. I –" He looked flustered. "I need to go." Harry struggled against the chains, but couldn't break through. Had they been simple steel it might have been possible. But magic itself was unbreakable without a spell. And seeing as his hands were chained to the wall, it was a bit difficult to cast a spell.
Harry screamed in frustration, and his eyes traced Malfoy as he walked out of the room. The familiar woosh of the fireplace indicated Malfoy's departure, and Harry after a moment or two more of violent struggle, slumped against his bounds.
It wasn't until four hours later that Ron came and let him loose from the wall. The moment he fell from his bounds, he realised how tired he was. He fell on to the floor on all fours, and had the strangest desire to just curl up and sleep there. His bed seemed far away. Yet Harry picked himself up, and brushed his clothes off.
"It didn't end so well, then, I'm guessing," Ron asked, looking slightly apologetic.
"No, I almost attacked him. As long as he doesn't go to the Ministry with that, I'm fine. It could have been worse, though. Thank you, Ron." The ginger smiled slightly, but continued looking worriedly at Harry.
"You sure you're alright? Malfoy just pinned you to the wall for four hours."
"Really? I didn't notice, Ron?" Harry laughed, and he could feel Ron's muscles relax beside him.
"You're acting like your old self."
"Well, plus bloodlust, I'd say. But, I feel better."
Better was an understatement at this point. Harry's head hadn't had been clearly in weeks. Everything seemed in focus, and the idea of blood wasn't as desperately wonderful as it had been before. In fact, he felt almost normal. His jaw didn't ache, and his teeth remained as insensitive as a human's. Well, almost. There was no venom in his mouth, and even with Ron standing less than a metre away from him, he didn't feel fear of an attack. In fact, it was almost safe to say that Harry hadn't had felt this good since he had been bitten.
It seemed like things were finally turning for the better. Maybe there was even hope.
Yay for less angst! Although, the angst isn't gone for good, lemme tell you... Tell me what you thought!