Author's Note: I'm sorry for taking forever. The first week of school was pretty hectic, and I'm really trying to write my next chap of Seasons of Love. Gah. Anyway, here's chapter eight.
Chapter Eight
It took a few days before Harry actually started to feel the effects of being a vampire again. He stayed at home after that, Hermione and Ron occasionally visiting. He still wasn't thirsty, luckily, but the slight headache and weariness served as a reminder of his condition. It didn't help that all his dreams revolved around Malfoy.
It was, in fact, the third day after going to Vogue that Hermione requested the oddest thing from Harry. They seemed to be having a decent time; they were sitting around the table, Harry sipping red wine and laughing. Everything seemed almost normal. It was refreshing. Harry liked hanging out like this better than clubbing. It was almost like Hogwarts all over again.
"Harry, can you bite me?" Hermione looked serious, but there was no way she could have been. Could she?
"What!" Ron and Harry both stared at her incredulously. The request had come out of nowhere and seemed so ridiculous that they both were sure that they had to have heard wrongly.
"Well, I'm trying to look at the venom's effects. And you're not thirsty yet as far as I understood, so what better time is there for you to do this? You don't have to drink much. I mean, if you get out of control, Ron will be here to stop you."
"But I don't know how I'm going to react. I mean, blood tends to make me go a little crazy. I'm pretty sure you've noticed this." He couldn't imagine biting into anyone. Drinking blood out of a vile was one thing, but taking it so upfront made it all the more realistic.
"Yeah, 'Mione, I'm not sure this is such a good idea." Ron fiddled with his wand, and he seemed ready to stop either of them if they tried anything strange. But Harry wasn't sure. What if she needed this for her research? What if it could help her eventually change him back? Hermione seemed to be on the same track as Harry.
"Please, Ron, all you have to do is be ready. It might be important. What if it helps Harry change back?" After a pause, they nodded. But Harry turned to Ron and sternly looked at him.
"If you even think there's a chance I'm going to hurt her, do what you have to do to stop me." For a moment it looked like the ginger was about to protest, but then his mouth shut and he simply nodded again.
Harry walked over and carefully brushed her hair away from her neck. The venom only slowly filled his mouth. Harry took this to be a good sign. Still, the sight of exposed flesh so close to his mouth – thinking about it made a bit more rush in. Leaning forward, his lips latched onto her skin and he bit down.
Hermione gasped and her fingers grabbed him for support. While biting her, Harry managed to manoeuvre overtop her. The fresh blood was sweeter than the first lick of ice cream on a summer's day. It melted in his mouth and tasted better than anything else ever had. Each lick and suck drew a moan from him, and every bit of him bubbled with warmth. Hermione began to mutter something underneath him, but it didn't register until her warm body thrust up into his. He recoiled, feeling the blood trickle down his chin. This was Hermione. It wasn't some stranger on the street, and even if it had been, Harry had never wanted to hurt anyone.
Ron stared at them, wand held up menacingly above his head, but any frightening effects were lost as his hand trembled and his face was drained of colour. Hermione broke the silence with a whimper and as her eyes fluttered, she slowly seemed to come back to herself. She feebly reached into her purse and pulled out what had to be blood replenishing potion. Meanwhile, Harry stood pressed up against his wall, trying to process what had just happened. After a moment, all the colour fully returned to her rosy cheeks, and Hermione pulled out another vial.
"Quickly, put some venom in this." Harry cautiously moved forward silently, and grabbed it out of her hands. There was enough venom to fill the vial container half-way up, and he handed it back to her, cork in place, with unsteady hands. The moment she took it, he was back in the shadows again.
"Your blood," he muttered, pointing at her neck. The open wound still attracted him. Her blood wasn't his mate's, certainly, but it was still fresh and right under his nose. Even now he had difficulty resisting himself. So, he looked to Ron for help. "Just stop me. I don't think I will, but I might. Do it!" Ron winced before waving his wand, and suddenly Harry fell to the ground, unable to move. "Much better." The smell still drew his attention, but at least now he knew it was safe.
"Harry?" Hermione asked uncertainly. Ron still said nothing, but he observed the scene as if he couldn't touch it.
"It's like being a full kid in a candy shop. You know you'll burst if you eat another bite, but everything you dream of – it's right in front of you like you."
"'Mione, I don't care what it did to Harry, but what the fuck did it do to you? You looked like you were about to – You almost had a – Bloody hell, you were about to have an orgasm, weren't you?" His face was redder than Hermione's, if possible. Harry's eyes screwed shut, and he rocked against his hands.
"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't even realise..." Mortification swept across Harry's face, and he stuttered out another apology.
"It seems to have that effect, yes, Ron," Hermione finally said. "I'll need to try to look at the venom." She looked over at Harry and sighed. "I should have warned you. That probably wasn't an experience you want to repeat."
"You knew?" Harry sounded small, his voice squeaky, yet with his gleaming red eyes it was hard to imagine him as innocent. Hermione nodded and grabbed her purse.
"Maybe we should go. It's getting late, and you look tired. We can come back tomorrow if you want us to. Although we're busy the day after that. Ginny invited us to a dinner party."
Harry's mouth opened and closed like a fish's for a moment before he finally said, "Tell her that I send my wishes – that I say hello. And, yeah, feel free to come tomorrow." Ron realised the bonds, but Harry limply lay there, watching them as they uncomfortably edged out of the room and to the fireplace. It wasn't until minutes after they had left that Harry picked himself and threw himself on his bed. Had everything been normal, he would have gone to Ginny's dinner party with them. He would have laughed some and probably complained about being single. But he would be too big of a risk now, and going there would be the equivalent of going to a buffet. Only these would be his friends he'd kill and eat. Horrified at the images, he drowned out any other thoughts and slowly lulled him into a sleep.
Ron and Hermione did, in fact, come the next day. None of them mentioned anything about yesterday's occurrence. Instead they pretended to forget about it and talked about other things that didn't matter. Soon enough, fake, nervous laughs were replaced with real ones and the tension slid away. With as much as they had gone through, it was impossible to be awkward around each other for long. Everything slipped back to normal and vampire issues were forgotten once again. The night seemed to pass by impossibly quickly, and it was nearly dawn when they left. That night Harry didn't curl in bed with fears and doubts. His fingers wrapped around Malfoy's letter once again for good luck as he turned over and slept soundly.
In fact, it was a week after meeting with Malfoy for the first time that Harry asked Ron to tell Malfoy to come again. He hadn't wanted to seem needy, but it was starting to get a bit irritating. He was becoming lethargic and twitchy. If he didn't see Malfoy soon, he'd be in trouble. So, they invited him. Ron and Hermione came immediately before Malfoy could, and Ron offered himself.
"For blood?" Harry had asked incredulously. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"
"'Mione thought it would be best if you had fresh blood before seeing Malfoy. We don't want you chained up like last time." He didn't look overly thrilled with the idea, but with a bit of a push from Hermione, Harry had agreed to it.
Harry shifted Ron over to the couch – "I could barely stay seated upright, so standing would be impossible," Hermione said – and gently exposed his neck. After a moment of contemplation, he plunged forward, not wanting to draw it out longer than it had to be. Ron's reaction was immediate. His gasp of pain was quickly converted into a strangled sound, and his hand went up to Harry's hair. Harry shuddered, but he took another gulp. It was fucking amazing. The warmth bubbled within him again, when suddenly –
The whoosh prickled in Harry's ears, and, in a second, Draco stood a few metres away, yelping in surprise. Harry pulled back just as the blond began yelling. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" This wasn't something he wanted Draco to see at all. He mouthed a string of random words, but Ron provided an answer for him.
"What does it look like?" Ron wheezed as Hermione dabbed at his wound and thrust a vial in his hand. "We were just making sure he wasn't going to attack your precious arse.
"That's what I meant, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "I meant that wasn't something I ever wanted to see." Harry noticed his face was red and his fists twitched. Embarrassed, Harry began mumbling an apology, but Ron cut him off again.
"Next time we'll just let him attack you, then!" Let me, Harry though, recoiling. They talked about him as if he was an untamed wild animal. Perhaps he was animalistic. Disgustedly, he reached up, wiping the blood away from his mouth and staring at it as if he wished it could disappear.
"I can handle myself, thank you v-"
"Enough!" Harry stormed out of the room and put his hands under the water, scrubbing violently. Even when the blood was gone, he washed his face and scraped at the skin. It was only when he accidentally peeled off a layer of skin from his ring finger and the blood quickly oozed down his arm that he stopped, crying out in pain.
"Are you alright?" Hermione appeared behind him and gasped. "You hurt yourself."
"I'm fine." By now the blood stained his sleeve and covered half his hand. Hermione began to usher him to the living room and ignored Ron's sudden outburst at all of Harry's blood.
"You should know better than to taunt him," Hermione chastised Malfoy before turning to Ron. "And you should know better than to insult his mate. Harry already feels guilty. The last thing he needs is for him to attack you on instinct." Ron's face turned crimson as he spewed sorry after sorry. Malfoy's apology, on the other hand, was brief. He didn't even sound sincere. As soon as the blood was cleared from Harry's arm, Hermione spoke again. "We'd best be off." With that, they quickly made their exit, leaving Malfoy and Harry standing a metre or two apart, staring at each other.
"I need to touch you."
"That's why I came, Potter. You think I enjoy spending my nights arguing with Weasley and risking my life?" He made it sound so much worse than it was, but Harry couldn't help but feel responsible.
"If I could do without putting you in danger, I would."
"Touching, really." He yawned as if bored, and moved over to the couch. Again, Harry couldn't help but notice as he sat the same way, relaxed, legs spread widely, invitingly. Shaking his head, he moved towards Malfoy, his body purring in anticipation and delight. When their hands touched, his eyes closed and pleasured seeped in through his fingers and palm. It was like a pulsating current. Harry felt amazing, ecstatic. It was almost as if his heard started beating again. But then he noticed Malfoy's hand was stiff under his and his joy faded.
"Those facial expressions make you look ridiculous, Potter." Malfoy's voice conveyed detachment.
"I can't help them." The magic of the first few seconds was lost as he grabbed Malfoy's hands even more tightly. He descended into reality once more and away from those fantasies where Malfoy reached for his hand.
"If I thought that you could help it, I would have asked you never to make them."
"How do you know I can't be restrained?"
"Past experience," Malfoy said simply, rolling his eyes.
"What, do you help other vampires with their problems? Do you have many people who have you as their mates? That must be an ego boost."
Despite the jesting tone, Malfoy snapped back, his eyes narrowed, "I believe you were just as delusional last time I came to help you." The moment of silence that followed was broken as Harry sighed.
"Look, this isn't what I wanted at all. I wanted to get off on a better foot. I don't think I need to tell you that I actually do care about – " He paused. "So, how was your day?"
"Fine." The terseness and the pain in his voice told Harry that Malfoy remained angry at him for some unknown reason. Or, more likely, his pride was just hurt.
"I'm going to regret asking this, but why aren't you married off to some wealthy Pureblood. I would have thought that would be what you wanted to do."
"It just hasn't really worked out," Malfoy said with a shrug. "Father wanted to set me up with Astoria Greengrass, but I didn't really fancy her. She was too absorbed in trivialities for my taste."
"Well, what about Pansy? You two seemed to hit it off at Hogwarts." Malfoy laughed and a smile invaded Harry's face once more. Draco Malfoy had actually laughed.
"Everyone says that to me, but we were never more than friends. She may have called me darling and stroked my hair, but she always chased after Blaise. Blaise was just too blind to see it for a while."
"But isn't there anyone that interests you? You're probably going to be voted most eligible bachelor of the year. You're a model. You have to have some sort of following, don't you?" Well, so much for not feeding Drac – Malfoy's ego.
"I'm just too focused with work. A love life would be a distraction. And it's not as if any of the people chasing after me would actually make a decent partner." He paused and his eyes seemed to water for a moment as if he was lost in the puddles of a memory left in a Pensive. "They just like me for my body."
"Wow, deep," Harry teased. He inched closer and his body vibrated. This was joy.
"Enough about me. How was your love life?" It wasn't out of genuine curiosity that he asked, and it stung. It was out of politeness. Manners had clearly taught Draco how to make respectable small talk.
"Practically nonexistent." He paused and gave a humourless chuckle. "Probably the only kiss I got before being bitten was a kiss on the cheek by Mrs. Weasley." Suddenly Harry looked nervous. His face fell and he added, "Of course, she'd probably want me dead if she knew what I was no like."
"No!" Malfoy had jumped up and he looked straight at Harry. "No matter what happens, the ones that truly love you will continue to fight for you. They'd never wish you dead. If she found out, she'd only want to help." The words sounded like something Ron or Hermione might tell him, not Draco. Harry rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist as he nuzzled his head into his shoulder.
But two hands pushed him back without warning, and Harry stumbled backwards into the couch again. "What the hell is it you think you're doing, Potter?" Malfoy was livid now, and it was only then that Harry noticed a wand was pointed directly at his chest. Malfoy seemed to notice this at the same time, and he lowered his wand with what seemed to be great difficulty.
"I was just trying to hug you." Harry cut off realising he was only stating the obvious. Malfoy's eyes turned to slits and his wand hand twitched by his side. It was clearly with great determination only that he resisted hexing Harry.
"I never would have realised without your keen observation; thank you," came Malfoy's scathing remark. "But I want to know why. I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to keep this as impersonal as possible."
"How can I? You drive me crazy and it's not like I think these things out. It's an impulse. If anything was decent about the world, you wouldn't even be my mate. But since you are, you have to deal with it. I don't know how you expect me to act nonchalant after you show you that you actually have a heart!"
"That I actually have a heart?" Malfoy's voice was colder than before, and his lip pulled upward as he looked at Harry in disgust. Harry's stomach dropped as he realised that he had spoken without thinking. "Fuck you. I'm already tired of trying to make small talk with you. I'm tired and just wasting my time on someone who can't even attempt to appreciate it."
"Draco, wait! That's not what I meant. Please, don't go. You know it just slipped out. I know you have a heart." He reached out, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder, but the blond shook him off and looked at him with watery eyes. His heart was suddenly twisted into a knot. Draco looked so vulnerable all of a sudden.
"I don't care what you meant. You talk without stopping and you try to dig for something that you'll like about me. What do you want me to say: 'I love you' because I never will!"
"I'll be quiet. Please, just don't leave. Not yet." Draco's words stung, but he swallowed the pain momentarily. Again, Harry's hand was thrown off of Draco's shoulder. The blond was gone with a tower of flames and the cackle of the fireplace was the only thing that filled the silence.
Harry was left torn about how he felt. On one hand, the mere opportunity to be with Draco was cause for celebration, and his newfound ability to read past looks, money, style, and general frivolities was the most powerful insight. It was probably the truest phrase he had heard Draco say. On the other hand, he had clearly struck more than one chord with Draco. Who knew if Draco would forgive him? Or when... He just had to leave him alone for a few days. If anything could change Malfoy's mind, it was fine.
So, what did you think?