Red Passion - HP - Draco/Hermione - 7/31
Title: Red Passion
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Mature (R)
Links: Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6
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.
Wordcount for Total Story: ~65,900 words (varied by chapter)
Chapter 7
Hunger.
It drove nature and mankind equally, a force that could lead any being to soulless insanity. Draco knew as much, and he could guess that such knowledge would be especially important when the hunger in question was a vampire's for warm blood.
Draco had no appetite, even though he hadn't eaten in several hours. Nevertheless he felt his stomach churning, heard its unpleasant groans as he fidgeted in his seat, anxiously looking out his window. Daylight was fading, quickly. It would be dinner time soon. A meal with a vampire. A meal with Hermione Granger. A last supper, for someone.
The wizard shook his head, cursing as a long strand of blond hair insisted on falling out of place and hanging in front of his eye. He let out a frustrated growl, standing quickly. Without realizing it, he was rubbing his neck, a habit his mother often displayed when she was distressed; however, Draco's fingers did not just grace soft flesh but scabs. A primitive, childish part of him wanted to scrape them off.
The sound of footsteps stopped him from scratching the wounds. He turned, glancing at the door just as a soft knock sounded from outside.
"Go away," he snapped. "I'm not going."
He let out a shaky breath. Yes, disobey the 'master', Draco. Wonderful move.
"Malfoy?"
The door opened slowly, cautiously. Hermione appeared, a strangely curious expression on her face.
"Not much a point to knocking, is there?" Draco sneered, but his tone didn't back the sarcasm.
His eyes swept over the young woman in front of him in wonder. Look what a bit of polish does, he thought, raising a brow at the full, elaborate gold gown she was wearing. The metallic shade brought his gaze up to her creamy skin, a cool complement to the warm curls pulled up behind her head and cascading over her collar.
"Malfoy?" she said.
Draco blinked, looking away from her somewhat abashed. He clenched his jaw, angry that he had taken time to appraise her like an object. What the bloody hell was that about? He reached up, adjusting his top button before looking back at her.
"A bit much, isn't it?" he said, gesturing in her general direction as he paced around her, once again attempting to hold his hair out of his face.
She pursed her lips, crossing her arms defensively. "I didn't pick this out, thank you. Though I'm sure you chose that gaudy little number you're wearing."
"Gaudy? You're mental." Draco rolled his eyes. "Is there a reason why you're up here?" He noted the red marks around her wrist. "And free? Did they decide to let the dog out of its cage for the evening?"
"You're such a prick," Hermione hissed, her jaw raising as if expecting a retort. When it didn't come, she continued. "Hart sent me up to fetch you. Apparently it's time for dinner. You're supposed to escort me back down." She paused, staring at the wizard in front of her. "What's going to happen tonight?"
Draco shrugged. "We should go downstairs. He'll probably be waiting for us." He walked behind her, out of the bedroom.
Hermione turned on her heels, grabbing hold of his sleeve. "This isn't a game, Malfoy! No, matter what this vampire thinks, I'm not going to be some plaything-not like you so obviously are...So, tell me, what happens when we go down there?"
"I expect we eat, Granger. What the hell do you do want to hear from me?" Draco scoffed. "Do you want me to tell you how he's going to suck every last drop of blood out of your body? Do you want me to tell you that you're the main course?"
He broke off, staring into the witch's wide, honey eyes. The color washed out of her skin, and she took a step away from him.
"But that's not the truth," Draco continued. "The truth is that I could be the one on the menu for all I know. Or maybe the bloody bastard just has a fetish for watching humans eat. I don't know. So stop asking me already."
He found the stairs, quickly making his way down. Draco looked back up when he reached the ground floor, seeing Hermione still a few steps from the top, face downcast. "Are you coming, Granger?" he asked.
The wizard waited for her to meet him before walking toward the dining area. Madam Hart was standing at the entrance way, hands folded in front of her and a sweet, welcoming smile on her face. She stepped out of the way so that the two could pass. A long, candlelit table awaited them, four places set.
"The master will be up shortly, children," she said, gesturing for Hermione to take a seat at the table's center and directing Draco to the opposite chair directly across from the witch. Empty wine glasses waited in front of the two unclaimed seats, at each end of the table.
"You are to behave until he arrives-no squabbling." The old woman patted Hermione's shoulder gently. "I cooked up something very nice for the two of you. If you're polite, I may be able to sneak you seconds in desert." She gave Draco a wink and left them.
"Do you think he has her under a spell?" Hermione asked, leaning across her setting.
"Hart?" Draco shook his head. "I think she's sincerely dedicated to Darien. I don't know why-could be because she's as mad as a hatter."
"She's not the one dining with us, is she?" Hermione glanced down the table at the other chair. "I wonder who else this vampire's bringing. Is there anyone else in the house? Or do you think it's...?"
"Do you ever stop talking?" Draco snapped. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't have the damn answers?"
The witch glared at the young man, sitting up straight and proper. "You would think that, in our current situation, you'd at least be somewhat civil."
"Do you forget who you're talking to?" Draco growled, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're Potter's little girlfriend-this is civil for us. For someone so smart, you're one stupid mudblood sometimes."
"Enough."
Draco turned, almost falling out of his seat in surprise. Darien stood at the entryway, eyes dancing over the wizard. "There's no need for such language, Draco," the vampire said, gliding across the room.
Hermione was staring up at him, mouth agape. Darien reached down, taking her hand and running his lips over her knuckles. He smiled softly, the smallest hint of fangs showing over his pale pink lips.
"Hermione," he said, watching the young woman stiffen at the sound of his voice. "I'm so pleased that you could join us. Brute gentlemen such as ourselves do not deserve to be graced with the presence of such a delicate flower."
Draco bit his lip-talking back to Darien would do him no good. Nevertheless, he gave Hermione a shaking glance that seemed to remind her that it was vampire kissing her hand, that that look in his piercing eyes was not lust but hunger.
Hermione pulled away. "Thank you," she said, her cheeks flushed, "but it's not as if I had much of a choice."
Darien bowed his head apologetically, making his way to his seat. "Forgive me for holding you, an unwilling guest. I assure you that the present situation is not a permanent one, but, perhaps it is one that you should enjoy while you still can." He let out a quiet laugh as he watched her lips part. "I'm sorry-that sounded like a threat on your life, I suppose. It was not meant as one."
Madam Hart reentered the room with two platters balanced on one arm, a bottle of wine in the other hand. She sat the drink before her master, a plate in front of the wizard and witch. "My lord, is there anything else you'll require?"
"Thank you, Melissa, but no. We require only privacy for the time."
Hart arched her neck, gracefully making her way out.
Darien poured his own glass, crisp red wine filling it to the brim. He stood, walking over to Draco. He bent over the wizard, topping off the young man's glass. "I must say," he said in an obvious stage whisper, "you have quite the taste in ladies, my dragon."
"Granger went to school with me. She's nothing," Draco said.
Darien grinned, wrapping a hand around the back of Draco's neck. "I would not say that now," he said, squeezing.
Draco wincing, grinding his teeth at the sudden pain.
"Stop it!"
The vampire released him, a frown on his face as he looked at the young witch now standing with the knife off of her plate pointed at him. "Leave him alone. You can't do this to people-he's not yours."
"I must make yet another apology to you, Hermione," the vampire said, slowly stepping away from the wizard. "You'll have to forgive my bluntness. Draco is mine. His life is mine to take-but I wish him no such harm. He is property, and one rarely destroys his own property. I only wish him to understand...obedience."
Darien took one step, leaping over the table, landing upright beside the young witch and grabbing hold of her wrists. She dropped the knife, crying out in surprise. But, instead of fighting back, she stood still, eyes locked on the vampire's. Her body froze, limbs limp.
"What did you do to her?" Draco asked, swallowing as he watched her sway slightly, as if ready to collapse.
"I'm going to teach you something, Draco," Darien said. His eyes remained on Hermione. When he pulled his gaze away, Draco saw that they were red stained and glazed in a metallic sheen. "There are old tricks to make a mortal fold their will. They do not always work, and victims often build a tolerance to them. Now, Draco, you will stay seated. You will not move unless I tell you to. You will not speak unless spoken to."
Draco's fists clenched. "And what if I don't feel like being obedient?"
A look of amusement passed over Darien's features. "Remember what happened to the old man when you disobeyed me?"
The wizard froze, staring in front of him. Would he kill her just to prove a point? The question was answered with the realization that the being in front of him was not a sane human, but a vampire.
"I see you understand me," Darien said.
He pulled Hermione in front of him, the back of her body against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling against her hair until she bent her head to the side, the flesh of her neck exposed. Darien kissed it softly, one of his hands pushing below her breast, the other resting casually on her hip.
"I'm going to show you what it is to have my power, Draco," Darien said, staring at the young man. "A vampire does not kill, per se: he feeds. He takes blood-you know that much. But there are so many other things a body can provide us with."
Draco looked away as the vampire slid his hand up over the witch's abdomen, grinding his body into her back. Hermione let out a soft gasp, her head rolling back against Darien's shoulder. Draco glanced back, his face torn between disgust and curiosity.
"Don't be ashamed, boy," Darien said. "In this house there is no shame. There is pain and there is pleasure, but no shame, not yet. She cannot hear me or see me. This girl does not know where she is or what I am doing to her. She is trapped within her own mind. It feels like a dream, quickly fading. She knows the emotions, but she can't know why she is feeling them." The vampire smiled bending down to nibble at her ear, tongue darting out to taste her skin.
"Why are you doing that?" Draco snapped.
"For pleasure." Darien ran his hand back down to her thigh, his long fingers softly testing the spot where her legs met, as smooth as the silk of her dress, his caresses pushing a moan out from between her lips. "It is why I exist." He pressed his palm over that sensitive area, the boney mound of Venus beneath his thumb tracing it in slow, circular motions that bunched up her skirt and forced her to shake in anticipation.
"I can't watch this." Draco could hear his own teeth grinding as he held his jaw tight. He took a shallow breath, pushing his chair away from the table. "I'm not staying for this, damn it!" He walked around the table, keeping his eyes on the exit.
"Do you want me to kill her?"
The wizard stopped, looking over his shoulder at the vampire. Darien was sitting Hermione down into her chair. The vampire strode across the room, standing against the wizard and wrapping an arm around his shoulders to direct his attention to the young woman. He leaned in closely, his nose almost touching Draco's cheek.
"Do you want me to kill her?" the vampire asked again.
Draco closed his eyes, feeling Darien's lips closing in on the bulge of muscle below his ear. This was no lover's kiss, the wizard knew, but he could not pull away, even as the vampire's teeth teasingly brushed against his skin.
"Do you?"
"No," Draco breathed. "You can't kill her."
"Can I not? I thought she was just a stupid mudblood." Darien pulled away, brow raised. " Tell me, dragon, were you tempted? Did you want her?"
"I don't...I didn't mean..."
Darien let out a light chuckle. "No shame, remember?" He took a step back, a hand raised in Hermione's direction. "Pour the lady a glass, Draco."
The vampire was in his chair, his wine raised before the wizard had time to move. "I do hope you enjoy your meal, Hermione."
The witch blinked, the link between her and the vampire severed in an instant. She looked about, brow scrunched in confusion as she noticed Draco approaching her, reaching across for the wine bottle and topping off her glass.
"What happened?"
Darien cocked his head. "What do you think happened, my dear?" he asked.
Draco glared at him, making his way back to his own seat with the wine bottle in tow. The vampire only smirked.
"I don't know..." Hermione answered, shaking her head as if to rattle loose a memory that wouldn't budge.
"How odd," Darien commented.
Madam Hart walked through the entrance. "Master Sanguini has arrived, my lord."
Darien stood, eyeing his young guests. "Very good, Madam. Show him in."
>>READ CHAPTER 8>>