Author's Note:

Main Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Side-Pairings: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnegan (Decreased); Harry Potter/Ginerva Weasley (Past); More shall be displayed as the fic continues.

Brief Summary: Draco Malfoy is a vampire slayer. His sole purpose in life is to kill as many vampires as he can. Since wizard's blood is poisonous to vampires; he has been rather successful. His most recent hunt has eliminated several of the foul creatures; including their leader... or so he thinks. The vampire house leader, Harry Potter, was somehow able to survive and is now stronger than ever. Harry is now out for revenge. He will stop at nothing to kill the grey eyed wizard that almost destroyed him.

Warnings: M/M sex, mild cursing and Wizard bashing.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, in all entirety, belongs to the illustrious J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

CHAPTER 7: An inch of desire

"Malfoy?" Harry Potter gasped in searching wonder, flabbergasted to find the name sounding so unappealing. He tried again. "Draco?" There. That was much better; the name slipping like silk over his tongue.

Sitting back on his knees, Harry looked around the tiled floor. Blood spotted the checkered black and white kitchen tiles. Small, fragile glass shards clicked beneath his knees; Harry remaining safe because of the leather jeans he wore.

In the middle of all this mess lay his salvation. Harry dove his calloused hands into the soft strands of fine platinum hair as another thought broke through the mist in his head.

Here is where you belong. What you were searching for your whole life! How could you have hurt him?

The blonde slayer was sprawled in a comatose heap, his head tilted to the right to expose the deep wounds that Harry had inflicted on him. Blood streamed down the wizard's neck and across his chest, staining the grey shirt; already torn at the crow-line and practically seconds from completely ripping up. Harry stared in childish fascination at the wizard's drawn face. There was no emotion on the blonde's pale countenance. No anger. No fight. Utterly silenced, his gorgeous wizard. Had he…?

Harry felt a spike of fear travel through his heart at the thought of something happening to his wizard. He immediately scooped Draco into his arms, making sure not to jostle the man any more than necessary.

With a deep breath, the vampire pressed his lips to Malfoy's forehead. A sigh of relief escaped him. Draco didn't feel inordinately cold. A steady pulse beat against Harry palm where he had slapped it over the blonde's bloodied neck. A slight twinge of guilt tightened his stomach as Harry stood up with the wizard in his arms. He carefully ran a hand over the man's face, pushing the strands of hair away gently. "What have I done to you, my love?"

Having had staked the house earlier, Harry was thankfully aware of the floor plan and hence did not waste a single moment in walking towards the bedroom he assumed was used by the wizard.

With practiced movements and a hint of tenderness, Harry laid Draco down on the center of a king-size bed that mastered the white marble floorboards in the bedroom. A thick black quilt cradled Draco, contrasting with his pastel self and making him seem as if he were an angel resting amidst darkness. A bloody angel, though, Harry thought wryly.

Sitting on the edge of the colossal bed, Harry finally let his head fall into his hands. The last few seconds had changed something within him. He didn't know what it was but his world now seemed more colorful and the wizard more beautiful. The wizard… Harry knew that he had not killed the blonde. He smoothed a palm over the beginnings of some facial hair and drew it down his chin, thinking hard.

I had almost killed him. But then, I hadn't. Why didn't I kill Mal-Draco? Draco Malfoy, this… wizard? Vampires and wizards are enemies. What in the world is the matter with me?!

With his hands clenched into fists, Harry stood up abruptly and hissed through his teeth. Frustrated rage emerged and flooded his system. Stalking the floor from the door to the far end walls, he resisted the urge to growl out his aggravation.

Malfoy lay there, inert, his pale blonde hair splayed across the black comforter, making an halo around him. Silent. Peaceful. Unable to lash out; to fight and to challenge Harry. This was the wizard who had once injured him so badly that he had touched death. Harry's heart had stopped. He'd had to feed on a friend to survive.

Heat flushed the brunette's neck and filled him from his skull to the heels. A storm of vengeance raged for release but— but this felt different. Unusual. For where the rage should have felt substantial, insistent and uncontrollable; now, it merely settled and became an emotional reaction that Harry might not have touched for what seemed like ages. Heartbeats quieted. Fisted fingers snapped open. Anxiety fled, softening the thick tension holding the vampire's neck stiff.

He bent over the body sprawled across the bed, his palms sinking deep into the plush coverlet. This wizard, this gorgeous and unbelievably attractive man deserved something… Harry was drawing a blank on what it was that Draco Malfoy deserved but there was no denying the feelings of desire and possessiveness sweeping through his chest. Harry had only felt this way once before but the feelings for Ginerva Weasley had been dormant for too long that the sensations curling in his gut felt new and exquisite.

He swept his head lower over Draco's face but stopped short of touching the man's lush inviting mouth.

Blood coated the pale neck of his love. Harry took a sniff and was surprisingly startled to find how different it smelled. Not a single bit like mortal blood; there lingered an odd musky smell to Malfoy. Earlier when Harry had attacked the wizard, the scent of rosemary had come to him but it seemed to have changed now. This scent was sweet with the slight tinge of something spicy. Cherry? Or musk and chocolates? Harry couldn't place it.

Curiosity held him over the bed, the tips of his dark hair sweeping across the unconscious wizard's bloodied neck and chest. Swiping a forefinger through the blood, Harry observed the crimson drop glisten under the magnificent lamp that shone dimly at the head of the bed. So deadly this small drop of life should be, Harry mused in wonder. It had once eaten through him, literally, to his heart. It had rendered dead six members of House Gryffindor in less than five minutes.

The Dark Mark, this. Dangerous; to be avoided at all costs for it promises to bring so much pain!

Yet now… Harry wanted more.

I do?

Harry was startled enough by this revelation that he backed away from the bed. "Not right." He muttered under his breath, unable to help himself from sucking his finger clean. The taste of the wizard's blood shimmered through him, warming his belly and revisiting the spark of sexual desire he had experienced earlier. With the blood hunger always came the need for carnal satisfaction; a yearning that only seemed to increase manifold in the proximity of Draco Malfoy.

"Not right…" He murmured again taking a step closer to the blonde but making sure to keep his hands to himself. For the moment. "Not right but not… wrong."

Harry glanced over the havoc marring the wizard's bruised neck. He'd not taken much from the man because the blood desire had overwhelmed him earlier than he would have expected; Draco should be coming to his senses soon enough.

Knowing that he had only moments before Draco woke up, Harry sat down on the bed again, tracing the wizard's body with his eyes.

A tangle of the softest platinum tresses scattered across the man's heart-shaped face, stopping just short of his sharp chin. Above them, a generous red mouth, partially open, hushed out soft breaths. A sticky looking viscous brown liquid trailed down the blonde's forehead and across his cheeks and jaw. Harry would have been worried about its origin but the form of the man, curled upon the bed held his attention. Whitish brows arched a wicked slash above each closed eye and to his astonishment, Harry found himself missing the grey orbs hidden under them. The orbs that could go from angry to cold to expressionless within the span of a second. Harry wondered how those eyes would shine when Draco looked at him in happiness or, Merlin help him, with arousal.

Harry lowered his eyes, greedily lapping up the sight of whatever skin was visible under the wizard's frayed shirt. The beginnings of a scar caught his attention as his eyes roamed over the pristine and unmarred skin. The scar was thin and barely there; Harry reckoned that he had only noticed it due to the angle at the which the light bounced across it. It seemed to be a tiny scar and reminded Harry of his own marks; many of which had been provided by the cataleptic wizard himself.

The green-eyed man ran a hand through his messy hair; a nervous habit. None of these things were making any sense. Rightfully, he should be hating the wizard; the wizard who looked imposing and ready to strike even in his unconscious state.

The vampire didn't know what the deal was but he was pretty sure of one thing: the universe hated him, for at that moment the wizard shifted slightly on the bed. Harry's breath hitched as the blonde's shirt veered slightly to the left to reveal a pale pink nipple. With the black jeans jealously hugging Draco's narrow hips and the shirt slashing away to expose the pebbled texture of the man's erect nipples, Harry couldn't help but lick his lips in desire.

Draco Malfoy, even lying practically lifeless on the bed, made for a ravishing image. Harry had been trying hard to ignore the desire fueling his blood for the entirety of the evening but it was proving more and more difficult with each progressing second. He stood up and with one large stride was standing right next to the other male. A need to taste the man's blood pushed to the surface of Harry's mind.

Giving in to the temptation that was Draco Malfoy, Harry hovered a palm over the points of the inviting nipples. Leaning closer, he found himself getting ready to press his lips to the wizard's damn fine ones and finally satisfy the hunger boiling in him. In fact, Harry would have done exactly that if not for the wizard opening his eyes and fixing him with a cold glare at that particular moment.

Additional Author's Note:

And the first cliff-hanger….

Thank you for those who Favorited/Followed the story. Reviews would be appreciated and even answered, if I get the time.

Do you lovely readers want a special chapter for Christmas? I'll have to pull an all-nighter to complete that, though.