Red Passion - HP - Draco/Hermione - 2/31
Title: Red Passion
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Mature (R)
Links: Chapter 1
Summary: Post HBP. A vampire saves Draco from death and introduces him to a dark world. With Hermione Granger on the menu, can Draco save his enemy and his own soul? Eventual DM/HG.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Written for profitless entertainment.
Warning: Blood, violence, and eventually scenes of a sexual nature.
Author's Note: Story goes AU after the events of Half Blood Prince. Takes a couple chapters for Hermione to arrive, so just stick with me.
Wordcount for Total Story: ~65,900 words (varied by chapter)
Link to Masterpost
Chapter 2
"Blood is life."
The words echoed in Draco's mind, expanding, bouncing off of black walls that shouldn't have existed. In between every syllable was a laugh as silver and charming as wedding bells. But a haunting coldness lay just beneath those sweet sounds, threatening to reach up with smoke fingers and grasp the purity that remained above.
"Blood comes before all other passions in this world. Food holds no substance; water does not quench our thirst. Love is not an act or feeling without its essence. Blood is life."
Draco knew his eyes were open, but he could not tell if the visions displayed before him were real or simply figments of his imagination. He could see 'them' watching in the shadows, shaking with nervous trembles. They had expected to witness an execution, but what was taking place before them shook them core deep. Draco could see into the darkness, every fold of their black on black robes. He could see one unmasked Death Eater, Aunt Bellatrix, staring at him with something between fright and curiosity. He could see a line of sweat dripping down her lined forehead. Draco knew that it could not be real-no one could see that well without more light.
Nevertheless, his eyes would not stop searching for his mother. He knew her height, her stance, her smell, yet he could find her in the crowd. His mum was not in attendance. He wanted to see her. Funny that he had not searched for her when he thought he might die, but now he needed to see her face more than ever.
His mind lied and whispered that the arms wrapping around his form, one under his shoulders and one bracing his legs, belonged to her. He was lifted and his vision blurred for a moment, a spectral of lights dancing in front of him. He was moving so fast, so very fast. He wanted to close his eyes but found that his body refused to react. Something lukewarm was running down his lip into his open mouth. A droplet splashed onto his tongue, salt and metal. His body arched, and he gasped, forcing his eyes shut to endure the rush.
"Blood is life. Blood has bonded me to you. I claim you, Draco Malfoy. You are mine. Do you understand?"
Draco awoke, his head squished into a soft pillow that smelled like mold and dust. His arms shook with his own weight, but he pushed himself onto his side. He raised his head, a questioning look on his face. Darien sat a few feet away in a delicate wooden chair. His eyes remained focused on the young wizard in front of him, but the vampire's thoughts seemed elsewhere.
A chilled swept over Draco, and he realized that he was nude beneath the crisp white sheets draped over his body. He tightened a fist around the material and pulled it close to his chest in a coy gesture.
"What the bloody hell did you do to me?" Draco snapped. "And where did you put my clothing, you blood sucking pervert."
Darien smiled, his soft laughter spewing out between his lips. "So much fire over the ice...You are such an attractive child, Draco-not a characteristic I find unappetizing." Draco recoiled at the feral grin sent his way. "Do not fear, boy. I am in need of neither a lover nor dessert, so you may rest more easily."
Draco flinched at the line. "Then what do you want me for-just for my good looks, I suppose?"
Darien looked away. "You probably have many such questions. It would most likely serve you better to move on to another."
"Why am I still alive? The Dark Lord wanted me dead," Draco said.
"Because I wished it." Darien frowned. "Voldemort owes me, my kind, more than one favor." The vampire's eyes darted back to the young man. "And do not refer to him as a lord in this household. I am your master. I am your lord, and I do not share with others. Look at your mark."
Draco sneered at Darien's words but raised his arm. The dark mark remained, but looked flat, like simple ink on his skin.
"It's nothing but a reminder of the past. The magic tying you to the Dark Lord is gone, severed when I bonded with you."
"Bonded?" Draco's eyes widened. "You drunk from me... I tasted your blood!"
"Calm yourself," the vampire snapped. "You are not a vampire. I would have to drain you dry and fill you with my own life to make you one of us, boy."
"So, what am I? A slave? A servant?" Draco hissed. "I didn't ask you for help. So why should I owe you anything? What makes you 'my new master'?"
"I bought you with debt, and you are mine!" The vampire was grasping Draco's neck before he even saw the dark creature move. "Do not make me prove my dominion over you, child!"
The vampire released him, stepping back and dusting off his overcoat as if he had somehow dirtied it. "As for your role, consider yourself an indentured guest. Now, Draco, enjoy the accommodations. My day keeper, Madam Hart-a fine muggle woman whom you would do well not to pester-will serve you if you wish for a change of clothing or food. Do not think yourself above her, for you have no wand, and my wards can detect even the slightest hint of magic use."
"Anything else, Master?" Draco all but growled.
"We will dine when you awaken, two hours after sunset. Then you may ask any questions you may have." The vampire's eyes narrowed, a hint of blood in them. "And, Draco? If you attempt to escape from this estate, blood will me spilled-no exceptions."
The vampire walked out of the room, and an elderly woman walked past him with a short bow and a sweet smile. The woman walked into the room and stood beside Draco's bed, hands clasped in front of her patched apron dress. "Hello, my dear. I am Madame Hart," she said in a cheerful voice. She chuckled lightheartedly. "Oh, what a cute little wizard you are! We haven't had one of your kind in the manor since I was a young thing. Would you like me to make you some tea? I've biscuits downstairs as well."
"Clothing would do fine," Draco snapped, "unless you prefer me to wander about in the nude."
The old woman giggled, new wrinkles springing around her eyes and mouth. "I wouldn't find that in the least offensive. As I've always said, 'you can't see enough bare backsides in this life or the next,'" she laughed. "But, if you insist, there's sleepwear in the wardrobe. I wouldn't bother with the fancy robes or jackets-after all, you'll just be going back to bed after your snack. I'll be right back with the biscuits, deary."
The woman turned on her heels and headed toward the door, humming a tune and poking fondly at the wispy ball of white hair on her head. Draco shook his head, wondering if she even realized that she was serving a vampire. Only when he was certain that she wasn't in the room, he walked over to the wardrobe.
He sifted through the velvets and silks until he reached a set of plain blue-cotton pajamas. After slipping on the clothing, he walked to the nearest window. It was barred, as Draco had guessed, but he hadn't planned on jumping ship so fast. He stared outside. The hint of a rising sun peeked out from the heads of towering trees. Looking down, he realized that he was a few floors from the shadow-cast ground level.
"Beautiful, isn't it," Madame Hart said.
Draco resisted the urge to jump out of his skin and simply turned. The old woman held a tray of tea cakes and a cup of milk ("for strong bones and lovely straight teeth," she insisted). Draco sat in Darien's chair, the old woman watching him eat. He picked up the cup of milk and downed half of it before he even considered that this was more than a bit odd.
He paused, letting himself actually taste what he had just swallowed. Then he realized how cottony his mouth felt-an after effect of sleeping potion. His eyes shot up at the old woman. She was still grinning.
"The master wishes you to sleep today," she explained. "Perhaps he'll let you see the sun tomorrow. Won't that be delightful, deary!"
Draco's eyes were drifting shut. He stumbled from his seat to the bed, pulling himself on top of the sheets and letting sleep take him.
"Such a sweet boy," Madam Hart cooed. She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "Pity, such a waste."
READ CHAPTER 3