Fic: MMOM13 - Of Wanting and Waiting, HP, Harry/Draco, R
Title: MMOM13 - Of Wanting and Waiting
Author: Beren
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: vampires, EWE
Summary: Harry tried to leave the wizarding world by becoming a vampire; it didn't work and his life is about to become even more complicated by the addition of Draco Malfoy.
Author's Notes: More of the creature kick I seem to be on :). Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word Count: 5,407
Link: to MMOM 2009 fic links
Long Fics | HP Short fics | All Other Short Fics | Series Fics
"Harry," Ron said, all but bounding into his office, "you'll never guess who's back in the country."
Harry looked up from his paper work.
"Who?" he asked, trying to sound interested.
Harry had walked out of his life the day after his twenty first birthday. Being the Saviour of the Wizarding world had just been too much for him. The way people looked at him like some saint rather than a real person had driven him just about insane, so he had decided to leave it all behind. Being a Gryffindor he had chosen a permanent way out that would simply remove him from his life without actually killing him. It wasn't that he had wanted life to end, just to be different. One week later he had walked back into his life, because the universe liked a good joke and he was it.
That had been five years ago and he was still wondering why his life had to be so complicated and yet incredibly boring at times as well.
"Draco bloody Malfoy, that's who," Ron said and sounded like a gleeful teenager.
Harry just about managed to stop himself rolling his eyes. If there was one thing he had left a long way behind, it was school rivalries.
Becoming a vampire should have eradicated his wizarding magic and made him something else entirely. There was a large vampire nation in Europe who mostly didn't give a stuff about wizards as long as both sides left each other alone. However, Harry had had to turn out to be the one in several million who kept his wizarding magic even though he gained vampire powers as well. That had meant he was still traceable and hence just vanishing had not been an option given how very good Hermione was at finding anything she was looking for.
What was even more ironic was that no one around him had any idea what he had become. As long as he fed regularly no one could tell and since feeding just meant finding some poor bugger and relieving them of a pint or so of blood, a quick healing charm and a memory charm meant not even his victims were any the wiser. He kept meaning to tell Ron and Hermione, really he did, and eventually he would have to, since he wasn't aging, but he'd never quite found the right time.
"Let me guess," Harry replied to Ron's announcement, "you and me are assigned to check on him and make sure he's not gone dark."
Ron looked a little deflated that Harry had guessed, but there were obviously ideas bouncing around inside that ginger head, because he perked up again quickly.
"Yeah," Ron replied with a grin, "let's go make him uncomfortable."
This time Harry did roll his eyes.
Life would have been so much simpler if he'd just been able to vanish, but he was stuck. So he did his job; he was the best Auror the department had and if he had to fudge the odd report because he used his powers, no one ever pulled him up on it. Harassing Draco Malfoy did not seem like the great game it might once have been.
He knew the Malfoy family had been cleared of most wrong doing, but they had not been overly popular in the community so they had moved to Europe. All the property and investments in the UK had been transferred into Draco's name for legal reasons and as far as Harry knew, Draco had tried to stay in residence at the Manor for a while before following his parents to France. Why Draco had come back would be useful to know, just in case, but he really hoped Ron could put aside childish jealousies.
Such things had almost ended their friendship once. These days he went to the Weasleys' for Sunday lunch every other week, even though he had split with Ginny only a short way into their relationship. Just about when they had parted ways, however, Ron had stopped talking to him. It had been a mutual thing between him and Ginny, but that hadn't stopped Ron jumping to conclusions. Now he was treated like one of the family, but he still knew how hot-headed Ron could be.
"Let's go and do our job like professionals," is what he said while standing up and had to wonder why he was actually looking forward to seeing Malfoy.
His life was so humdrum he found Malfoy unusual enough to be interesting; it was sickening. Even finding out that his grandparents on his father's side had left him a fortune and a manor house hadn't been overly exciting when the letter had come through when he turned twenty five. It seemed it had been held in trust until then. It meant he didn't have to live in the tiny flat any more, but that was about all. He would have asked if Hermione and Ron would like to share it with him if he wasn't sure Ron would take it completely the wrong way, so he contented himself with giving them outrageous gifts when he felt like it. Hermione was much more practical than her husband and always accepted the gifts in ways Ron couldn't disagree with. The pair of them had it down to an art for after a little over a year of playing the game.
Malfoy Manor was bright and welcoming and nothing like Harry remembered it when they finally arrived. Apparating to outside the grounds and then walking up the long drive had given them some exercise and, thanks to the charms he had on his person, Harry was even enjoying the sunshine.
Harry was shocked when the door was opened not by a house elf, but by Malfoy himself. Malfoy had changed quite a lot, no longer skinny, just slim, much more casual clothes and white blond hair the length Harry remembered Malfoy senior's being, kept back with what Harry soon noted was a silver hair clip.
"Come in, Gentlemen," Malfoy said, sounding just a little bit resigned, "I've been expecting you."
Then Malfoy turned away from the door and walked back into the interior of the house without even bothering to wait for them to follow him. Harry stepped in quickly, felt the wards on the house notice him, but ignore him and walked after their retreating host. One thing he did notice was that Malfoy had picked up a very slight accent from his time on the continent.
He followed Malfoy into some sort of study with Ron directly behind him.
"We just need to ask a few questions," Harry said, trying to sound professional and detached even though their history was well known, "if that's alright."
Malfoy smiled at him rather coldly.
"It wouldn't really matter if it wasn't, would it?" the Slytherin replied, going through papers on his desk as if he was almost ignoring them, "I know the details of my parole."
All those deemed to have been associated with Voldemort, but not prosecuted had been given the same parole which was to last ten years. The Ministry had the right to turn up at their places of residence and require them to answer questions and if the answers were not satisfactory, to search to make sure. No one was taking any chances this time of there being another dark lord.
"It's also nearly over," Harry pointed out for some reason he couldn't quite fathom, "so let's get this over with like civilised human beings so that my bosses are satisfied."
Malfoy looked surprised at his tone and his bluntness. It was quite clear that Malfoy had been expecting more of Ron's reaction from him, but he had made Ron promise to let him handle the situation.
"We could take you in if you don't cooperate," Ron said and Harry wanted to smack his partner.
It was interesting though, Malfoy actually seemed amused by the threat.
"I don't think that will be necessary, Ron," Harry said and gave his friend a glare.
He really didn't want this turning into an incident; he'd been doing really well without incidents lately.
"Well then, Potter," Malfoy put them back on track, "what is it you wish to know?"
"How it is you turned out so well?" was what his mind whispered to him, but he ignored it.
He was quite used to his vampire nature after five years and the fact that vampires like sex was not something he had ever learned in DADA, but it was a fact. The fact that vampires often lost preference for male or female and just went for whatever attracted them at the time had shocked him when he had first realised it, but didn't anymore. He quite often picked up Muggles in bars on a Friday night, both male and female and used them for food as well as sex. Hermione had tried to sit him down and talk to him when she had realised his behaviour patterns, but he had just told her he was looking to have fun for a while.
"Why have you returned to England?" was the question he actually asked.
"Honestly," Malfoy replied, looking him in the eye for a change, "I missed home and I was hoping things had cooled down enough so I would not be completely unwelcome."
"You actually expect us to believe that?" Ron shot back almost instantly.
The funny thing was, as Malfoy sighed at Ron's response, Harry realised that he did believe their Slytherin host.
"Why is it impossible for you to believe that I do not have an ulterior motive for wanting to return to my family home?" Malfoy asked and he sounded just a little weary. "France was comfortable, Weasley, but I am an Englishman and this is where I wish to be. And since I know you will dig up the information anyway, I have just split up with my wife and I wanted to be as far away from the harpy as I could get."
Harry gave Ron a warning glare about responding to that; the last thing he needed was to be writing a report on why Draco Malfoy had hexed Ron into the middle of the next week.
"Thank you for your candour," Harry said, finding that he really didn't have any other questions. "Sorry for the intrusion, we won't need to bother you anymore."
"Harry!" Ron seemed to find that surprising and unacceptable.
For once Ron and Malfoy seemed to agree.
"That's it?" Malfoy asked.
"It was just routine to satisfy the bureaucrats," Harry replied and gave Ron a look to shut up for now, "sorry to have had to disturb you, but thanks for getting us out of the office. It's been rather slow lately."
Then he offered his hand to the other man and waited. Malfoy appeared to consider this for a moment and then reached out and shook his offered limb. The moment Malfoy's fingers curled around his, it was like he was hit by ice water. All his nerves tingled and his senses woke up as if they had been turned onto high. The smell of Malfoy, the sight of Malfoy, the sound of Malfoy, the feel of Malfoy and even the taste of Malfoy that the scent left on the back of his tongue were all etched into his memory in a moment and it was all he could do to hold onto his vampire side as it tried to break free.
"Are you okay, Potter?" Malfoy asked, sounding somewhere between genuinely concerned and simply curious.
"Fine," he replied and pulled himself together, "just being here has brought back some old memories I'd rather forget."
"Quite," was what Malfoy replied.
"Well, we'll leave you to it then," Harry said and turned on his heel. "Come on, Ron, let's go catch some real villains."
Ron did not look best pleased, but held his tongue until they were outside.
"You felt something didn't you?" Ron said as soon as they were clear. "What was it? Dark magic?"
Harry almost laughed.
"No, Ron," Harry replied as they walked, trying to puzzle it out himself, "nothing like that; it was just kind of a mental moment. I flashed back to when we first met him and couldn't help wondering what would have happened if we had made friends then. You know how I went to that shrink for a while after Voldemort died, it just took me back to some of the things she said to me."
Ron was looking at him incredulously.
"But you can't possibly believe his cock and bull story," Ron tried to protest.
"Of course not," Harry replied, knowing just how to handle Ron, "but now he's off guard. I'll have my informants keep an eye out in Knockturn and we'll see."
He really didn't think there was much point, but it would keep Ron happy. In their partnership, he ran the informants and often led the charge when needed, Ron was the strategic master mind and that's the way it worked best. Now Ron smiled at him.
"Thank god," Ron said as they walked down the drive, "I thought you'd lost it there for a while, Mate."
Harry didn't bother mentioning he thought he might have; he needed to talk to his maker.
====
The sitting room was lit with just a couple of candles and for humans it would not have been enough, but as Harry walked in, vampire nature revealed, there was plenty of light. All vampires had a human guise if they so chose, but in vampire society it was only used when hunting or going among the mortals, not amongst their own kind. Harry had gone back to the office, filed a short report and then gone home on time for once. He had then taken a portkey to his maker's home where he had been invited in and shown to the sitting room by the human butler.
"Harry, how lovely to see you," Marcellus greeted, sweeping into the room with a grand entrance like any self respecting master vampire. "What brings you calling?"
Usually new vampires were dependent on their makers for years until their vampire magic matured enough to allow them to live on their own, but, because his wizarding magic had stayed intact, Harry had never needed that. He had offered Marcellus all the money he had had left from his parents to turn him, but since he hadn't needed to stay, Marcellus had returned most of it. They had, however, been very good friends since and Harry liked to give his maker expensive gifts just like his other friends. Being nearly a thousand years old and shrewd to go with it, Marcellus was very well provided for, but that didn't stop Harry, hence why he produced a bottle of very expensive wine. He had found it in Knockturn alley from a house clearance and he'd been waiting to give it to his maker.
"Something happened today," he replied, presenting the bottle to Marcellus, "and I've also been meaning to visit to give you this."
Marcellus' eyes lit up, literally; his maker was a connoisseur and Harry knew the vintage he had found was very rare.
"You darling boy, where did you find this?" Marcellus asked, delighted.
"I was checking stock from a house clearance for dark spells and this was in a trunk," Harry replied, pleased that his maker was happy. "The shop keeper was most surprised when I offered him a fair price for it, I'm sure he thought I would just confiscate it."
Marcellus smiled at him for that. They had had many a long talk about Harry's Gryffindor nature and Marcellus sometimes referred to him as Justice.
"I will have Digby decant it," Marcellus decided straight away, "that is if you have time to stay and share it with me?"
"I was hoping you'd say that," Harry replied, because he had been a little on edge ever since the incident earlier in the day.
Marcellus disappeared for a moment, but reappeared very shortly.
"Come, come, My Boy," his maker said, reminding him fondly of Dumbledore, "let's sit down so you can apprise me of what is bothering you."
There were two high wingback chairs in front of the fireplace and Harry took one gratefully. He had sat in the chair for many hours over their friendship as they talked about all sorts of things, but he had never been quite so confused. He had literally been thinking about Draco Malfoy for most of the day and he wasn't sure why.
"I met an old acquaintance from the bad old days today," Harry said, putting his thoughts in order even as he spoke. "You know I've mentioned Draco Malfoy?"
His maker nodded an affirmative.
"Well he's back in the country and Ron and I were sent to interview him, because of Ministry paranoia," he explained and didn't bother to hide his disdain. "Well he's grown up just like the rest of us and everything was quite civil, even Ron mostly, but then something strange happened when I shook his hand goodbye."
Marcellus appeared very interested in what he was saying.
"How strange exactly?" his maker asked and seemed to be trying to be casual about it.
"Strange as in his presence seemed to chisel its way into my head and I haven't been able to get rid of it since," Harry replied, since there was no point in being vague about it.
For a moment Marcellus' eyes lit up again and Harry had the feeling he had just said something significant.
"And you've been feeling like you wanted to go back and see him ever since, yes?" Marcellus said, all but bouncing in his chair.
Harry nodded now and wondered what was going on.
"Oh, My Boy," Marcellus said, clearly delighted, "you've found one. I always knew that if any of my children did it would be you. This makes me so happy for you."
That really wasn't overly clear and Harry was even more confused.
"One what?" he asked, not understanding at all yet.
"A mate," Marcellus replied, beaming at him.
Harry was glad he wasn't holding anything, because he would have dropped it.
"A mate?" he said and sounded rather silly to his own ears. "I don't understand," he added, since he really didn't.
"I have been remiss in my teaching," Marcellus told him, still enjoying the whole situation as far as Harry could tell, "but this is so rare. For some of us, Harry, there are mortals who fit with us. They attract us, their magical fields, be they latent or active, match with our own and their blood will feed us like nothing else, tasting like the finest wine. Very few of us find these matches, Harry, but you have. Your reaction was your vampire nature realising the match through physical contact."
Stunned was putting it mildly.
"What do I do?" he asked in a very dazed tone.
"You woo him of course," Marcellus said, smiling all the time. "He will find you just as irresistible once you are close enough. Anything else is unacceptable."
When Digby brought the wine, Harry downed his first glass in one gulp.
====
Malfoy looked rather surprised to see him when his school nemesis opened the door of the manor.
"Potter," Malfoy said, not sounding overly pleased to see him, "what do you want?"
Now there were many ways to woo a prospective mate, formally and informally and after speaking to Marcellus, Harry had decided on the formal route. He didn't think Malfoy would take to well to informal advances without knowing why, since they had never exactly been friends.
"I wish to formally request the honour of courting you," Harry said and thrust the box he was carrying at Malfoy.
The expression on Malfoy's face was priceless.
"This is a joke isn't it, one of Weasley's ridiculous ideas?" Malfoy responded, without taking the small box.
"I swear on the memory of my ancestors, this is not a joke, Malfoy," Harry replied, having been prepared for such a reaction.
Malfoy looked even more shocked, since it was quite an oath Harry had just sworn.
"Why?" was Malfoy's next question.
"Look in the box," was all Harry said, because he knew the Malfoy would know what his gift meant.
There were forms for courtship in the wizarding world, many of them having fallen out of use, but purebloods liked their traditions. Clearly still unsure, Malfoy finally took the box and quickly opened it. There on black velvet was a crystal fang, enamelled at one end with red to represent blood and set in a pure silver clasp on a pure silver chain. Silver when mixed with vampire blood became a very potent magical substance and hence silver was the most precious metal in vampire circles.
"You know what this means?" Malfoy seemed to think that Harry was confused.
"Perfectly," Harry replied, "and so do you."
"You're a vampire," Malfoy said in a statement of fact.
"For five years," Harry responded, hiding nothing, "since the day after my twenty first birthday. I wanted to vanish, but fate had other ideas and I think I know why now."
At that Malfoy actually laughed.
"You think fate made you a wizard vampire because of me?" Malfoy said and Harry nodded, since that was what he had been implying.
He was putting his whole life on the line, but there was no other way. Marcellus had told him that he could not avoid this, that unless Malfoy died, now that his vampire side knew it would never rest.
"No one else knows, do they, Potter?" Malfoy said next, rationalising everything out like a good Slytherin.
"No one," Harry replied and felt a little ashamed about that, "but if you accept they will."
There was no way Harry could do this without his friends knowing and he had no doubt that as soon as a few knew, the press would find out somehow. Not that that bothered him as much as it had; it seemed all his worry was focused on Malfoy now and nothing else. It was possible Malfoy could refuse him, especially given their history. If Malfoy did, Harry would have to leave, it was as simple as that, because if they were in the same country Harry was sure he would not be able to control himself.
"What will you do if I accept?" Malfoy asked and gave him a little hope.
"Whatever you require of me," Harry replied, since he was willing to do just about anything.
In days of old, courting had often included tests for the party making the overtures and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Malfoy decided to go that route. As Harry held his breath, Malfoy took the pendant out of the box and looked at it, and then, having slipped the box into his pocket, Malfoy fastened it around his elegant neck.
"I accept," Malfoy said, much to his surprise and then, to his complete astonishment reached out, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him inside.
He found himself standing in Malfoy's hallway as the door slammed behind him.
"I'm fed up of games," Malfoy said, looking him directly in the eye. "All they have got me so far is a failed marriage and my mother trying to arrange a new one for me as quickly as possible. Show me what you're made of, Potter, and then we'll talk."
For a moment Harry didn't know what to do and he just stood there, but the challenge in Malfoy's eyes fired him up. Throwing caution to the wind, as was his nature, he shed his human disguise and then just let Malfoy look at him for a moment. He didn't really know what Malfoy expected of him, but he decided he didn't care; he was just going to do as he was told and show Malfoy exactly what he was made of. The fact that Malfoy's eyes went just a little glassy when looking at his revealed nature gave him a hint that he might be on to a winner.
"Whatever you want, Draco," he said, choosing to use Malfoy's first name, since he was about to take liberties with the man's person.
Marcellus had told him his instincts would lead him well and that he would sense what his prospective mate would like and his instincts were screaming sex. With that in mind, he decided that melting Draco's brain was the first order of business, after which they could talk practicalities and possibly more sex.
The hallway they were in had a large staircase up to the second floor and Harry decided that would do. Smiling a very fangy smile, he all but bodily picked Malfoy up and moved them both until they were at the stairs, then he pushed Malfoy down and followed closely behind. Before Malfoy had even the remotest chance to say anything, he used vampire speed to open Malfoy's button fly and slide his hand inside, vampire strength to pin Malfoy down and just the fact that he knew where people's weak points were to make Malfoy moan as he attached lips to neck.
He wanted to bite; he really, really wanted to bite, but he held himself back, just nuzzling the warm skin about the pulsing blood vessel. He didn't want it to be over too soon and if he bit he knew it would be.
"Oh god, Potter," Draco said, sounding breathless, for which Harry scored himself lots of points, "still direct I see."
Harry just growled and wrapped his fingers firmly around Draco's cock, pulling Draco free from underwear and trousers as he did so. He was going to make Draco pay for that comment with slow, wonderful torture. Thus began his exploration.
It took him a moment or two to figure out what Draco really liked as far as hand on cock went, but once he had it, he knew he could push Draco on and pull him back anyway he wanted to. Having very sensitive sense helped a lot in knowing exactly how Draco was reacting to what he was doing. He also moved on from nuzzling Draco's neck, partially because the temptation was too great and partially because he wanted to try some other things as well.
Doing his best not to rip buttons from material in his need, he opened Draco's shirt and kissed his way around Draco's chest. While he found that Draco's nipples were very sensitive, he found that the edge of the muscle just to the side seemed to be more so for his new lover. When he nipped and licked there, Draco actually writhed and it wasn't because Draco was ticklish.
Over the course of his exploration Draco tried to speak several times, but Harry managed to make his lover lose his train of thought every time. It was an amazingly fun game and he kept playing it for as long as he thought Draco could take it. He knew for a fact that having to beg would embarrass Draco and probably not be a good start to their relationship; they could add that twist when they knew each other better, so, when he thought Draco was about ready to plead, he had mercy.
He moved back up Draco's body, making sure to keep his hand moving in a smooth rhythm and then he picked a spot just about where the silver chain hung around Draco's neck. He nuzzled there for a few moments and then he opened his mouth and left his fangs slide into Draco's delicious skin. Draco's hands, which had up to then been grasping at the lush carpet on the stairs, grabbed for him, fixing onto his shoulders with the vice like power of a man who still liked to fly a broom. He let his magic flow through the blood connection that burst into life between them and, as pleasure flooded him, he let it flood Draco as well. He was hard as well and ground himself against Draco's hip as he pushed Draco that final distance, reducing his lover to a shuddering, gasping heap below him.
He wanted to let go as well, to come as Draco was coming, in long, blissful waves, but he held himself back. This was about Draco and he had had more than enough pleasure from the blood, so if Draco wanted to return the favour later, he would not object, but he did not allow himself the extra pleasure at that moment.
Drawing back slowly, he sent a wordless, wandless healing spell at the wounds on Draco's neck, watching them close and almost vanish, even as he milked Draco for his final moments of orgasm. Draco looked beautiful spread out on the stairs, head back, eyes closed and appearing completely satisfied. It was a look Harry wanted to see a hell of a lot more, of that both his vampire nature and wizard nature were very sure.
He felt amazing. Turned on and energised like he had never been before he knew he was now completely addicted and he wanted more. He had a nasty suspicion that if Draco decided that he wasn't interested now, his lover might have to fight him off with a stick, a very big, pointy one. A stake through the heart didn't kill a vampire, but it did put them into a coma while their body repaired itself and Harry was pretty sure that was the only way Draco would be able to get rid of him.
When Draco finally opened his eyes, Harry just waited.
"I would give you a score out of ten," Draco said with a small smirk, "but I seem to have misplaced the ability to count."
"I'm sure I can live without knowing," Harry replied and wondered vaguely what Draco was really like.
They didn't know each other, not any more and Harry found that he wanted to and wanted to very badly. His vampire nature was getting exactly what it wanted, but his human nature needed feeding as well.
"I was going to invite you to dinner, before you dragged me inside," he said, feeling rather pleased with himself, "one of my house elves is an amazing cook. Would you be interested?"
"Would that count as doing the first date backwards?" Draco replied, not even bothering to try and move yet.
"If you like," Harry replied, finding he liked Draco's sense of humour already, "but then this is me, when do I ever do anything the proper way around."
"True, true," Draco replied, as if considering that statement, "I suppose I'm going to have to get used to that."
Harry didn't even attempt to stop the beaming smile that that forced onto his face.
"It would probably make your life easier," he agreed, trying not to sound too keen.
For a moment Draco just looked at him, serious for an instant in time and he knew that they were both thinking about the future. Explaining this to his friends and surrogate family was going to be interesting and the press were bound to make a huge thing of it. He would have to go through an enquiry at work, because he hadn't revealed his vampire nature and he might even lose his job if the Ministry decided to be idiots, but he was prepared for it all. After his talk with Marcellus he knew that this was where his destiny lay, come what may and he was ready the follow it through.
"I am so going to enjoy letting mother down with a bump," Draco said and broke the mood completely.
That made Harry laugh; he could just imagine that conversation.
In the end, if Draco accepted him as a mate he would share his blood and his power with Draco. It would link their life forces together and give Draco the same immortality as Harry without turning him into an actual vampire. As Marcellus had explained it, Draco would probably pick up a few vampire habits, like aversion to bright sunlight and a craving for blood, but it would be a mirror of Harry, rather than a real physiological change. Harry looked forward to the day when he could make Draco his, but for now he would settle for dinner.
The End
Author: Beren
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: vampires, EWE
Summary: Harry tried to leave the wizarding world by becoming a vampire; it didn't work and his life is about to become even more complicated by the addition of Draco Malfoy.
Author's Notes: More of the creature kick I seem to be on :). Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word Count: 5,407
Link: to MMOM 2009 fic links
Long Fics | HP Short fics | All Other Short Fics | Series Fics
"Harry," Ron said, all but bounding into his office, "you'll never guess who's back in the country."
Harry looked up from his paper work.
"Who?" he asked, trying to sound interested.
Harry had walked out of his life the day after his twenty first birthday. Being the Saviour of the Wizarding world had just been too much for him. The way people looked at him like some saint rather than a real person had driven him just about insane, so he had decided to leave it all behind. Being a Gryffindor he had chosen a permanent way out that would simply remove him from his life without actually killing him. It wasn't that he had wanted life to end, just to be different. One week later he had walked back into his life, because the universe liked a good joke and he was it.
That had been five years ago and he was still wondering why his life had to be so complicated and yet incredibly boring at times as well.
"Draco bloody Malfoy, that's who," Ron said and sounded like a gleeful teenager.
Harry just about managed to stop himself rolling his eyes. If there was one thing he had left a long way behind, it was school rivalries.
Becoming a vampire should have eradicated his wizarding magic and made him something else entirely. There was a large vampire nation in Europe who mostly didn't give a stuff about wizards as long as both sides left each other alone. However, Harry had had to turn out to be the one in several million who kept his wizarding magic even though he gained vampire powers as well. That had meant he was still traceable and hence just vanishing had not been an option given how very good Hermione was at finding anything she was looking for.
What was even more ironic was that no one around him had any idea what he had become. As long as he fed regularly no one could tell and since feeding just meant finding some poor bugger and relieving them of a pint or so of blood, a quick healing charm and a memory charm meant not even his victims were any the wiser. He kept meaning to tell Ron and Hermione, really he did, and eventually he would have to, since he wasn't aging, but he'd never quite found the right time.
"Let me guess," Harry replied to Ron's announcement, "you and me are assigned to check on him and make sure he's not gone dark."
Ron looked a little deflated that Harry had guessed, but there were obviously ideas bouncing around inside that ginger head, because he perked up again quickly.
"Yeah," Ron replied with a grin, "let's go make him uncomfortable."
This time Harry did roll his eyes.
Life would have been so much simpler if he'd just been able to vanish, but he was stuck. So he did his job; he was the best Auror the department had and if he had to fudge the odd report because he used his powers, no one ever pulled him up on it. Harassing Draco Malfoy did not seem like the great game it might once have been.
He knew the Malfoy family had been cleared of most wrong doing, but they had not been overly popular in the community so they had moved to Europe. All the property and investments in the UK had been transferred into Draco's name for legal reasons and as far as Harry knew, Draco had tried to stay in residence at the Manor for a while before following his parents to France. Why Draco had come back would be useful to know, just in case, but he really hoped Ron could put aside childish jealousies.
Such things had almost ended their friendship once. These days he went to the Weasleys' for Sunday lunch every other week, even though he had split with Ginny only a short way into their relationship. Just about when they had parted ways, however, Ron had stopped talking to him. It had been a mutual thing between him and Ginny, but that hadn't stopped Ron jumping to conclusions. Now he was treated like one of the family, but he still knew how hot-headed Ron could be.
"Let's go and do our job like professionals," is what he said while standing up and had to wonder why he was actually looking forward to seeing Malfoy.
His life was so humdrum he found Malfoy unusual enough to be interesting; it was sickening. Even finding out that his grandparents on his father's side had left him a fortune and a manor house hadn't been overly exciting when the letter had come through when he turned twenty five. It seemed it had been held in trust until then. It meant he didn't have to live in the tiny flat any more, but that was about all. He would have asked if Hermione and Ron would like to share it with him if he wasn't sure Ron would take it completely the wrong way, so he contented himself with giving them outrageous gifts when he felt like it. Hermione was much more practical than her husband and always accepted the gifts in ways Ron couldn't disagree with. The pair of them had it down to an art for after a little over a year of playing the game.
Malfoy Manor was bright and welcoming and nothing like Harry remembered it when they finally arrived. Apparating to outside the grounds and then walking up the long drive had given them some exercise and, thanks to the charms he had on his person, Harry was even enjoying the sunshine.
Harry was shocked when the door was opened not by a house elf, but by Malfoy himself. Malfoy had changed quite a lot, no longer skinny, just slim, much more casual clothes and white blond hair the length Harry remembered Malfoy senior's being, kept back with what Harry soon noted was a silver hair clip.
"Come in, Gentlemen," Malfoy said, sounding just a little bit resigned, "I've been expecting you."
Then Malfoy turned away from the door and walked back into the interior of the house without even bothering to wait for them to follow him. Harry stepped in quickly, felt the wards on the house notice him, but ignore him and walked after their retreating host. One thing he did notice was that Malfoy had picked up a very slight accent from his time on the continent.
He followed Malfoy into some sort of study with Ron directly behind him.
"We just need to ask a few questions," Harry said, trying to sound professional and detached even though their history was well known, "if that's alright."
Malfoy smiled at him rather coldly.
"It wouldn't really matter if it wasn't, would it?" the Slytherin replied, going through papers on his desk as if he was almost ignoring them, "I know the details of my parole."
All those deemed to have been associated with Voldemort, but not prosecuted had been given the same parole which was to last ten years. The Ministry had the right to turn up at their places of residence and require them to answer questions and if the answers were not satisfactory, to search to make sure. No one was taking any chances this time of there being another dark lord.
"It's also nearly over," Harry pointed out for some reason he couldn't quite fathom, "so let's get this over with like civilised human beings so that my bosses are satisfied."
Malfoy looked surprised at his tone and his bluntness. It was quite clear that Malfoy had been expecting more of Ron's reaction from him, but he had made Ron promise to let him handle the situation.
"We could take you in if you don't cooperate," Ron said and Harry wanted to smack his partner.
It was interesting though, Malfoy actually seemed amused by the threat.
"I don't think that will be necessary, Ron," Harry said and gave his friend a glare.
He really didn't want this turning into an incident; he'd been doing really well without incidents lately.
"Well then, Potter," Malfoy put them back on track, "what is it you wish to know?"
"How it is you turned out so well?" was what his mind whispered to him, but he ignored it.
He was quite used to his vampire nature after five years and the fact that vampires like sex was not something he had ever learned in DADA, but it was a fact. The fact that vampires often lost preference for male or female and just went for whatever attracted them at the time had shocked him when he had first realised it, but didn't anymore. He quite often picked up Muggles in bars on a Friday night, both male and female and used them for food as well as sex. Hermione had tried to sit him down and talk to him when she had realised his behaviour patterns, but he had just told her he was looking to have fun for a while.
"Why have you returned to England?" was the question he actually asked.
"Honestly," Malfoy replied, looking him in the eye for a change, "I missed home and I was hoping things had cooled down enough so I would not be completely unwelcome."
"You actually expect us to believe that?" Ron shot back almost instantly.
The funny thing was, as Malfoy sighed at Ron's response, Harry realised that he did believe their Slytherin host.
"Why is it impossible for you to believe that I do not have an ulterior motive for wanting to return to my family home?" Malfoy asked and he sounded just a little weary. "France was comfortable, Weasley, but I am an Englishman and this is where I wish to be. And since I know you will dig up the information anyway, I have just split up with my wife and I wanted to be as far away from the harpy as I could get."
Harry gave Ron a warning glare about responding to that; the last thing he needed was to be writing a report on why Draco Malfoy had hexed Ron into the middle of the next week.
"Thank you for your candour," Harry said, finding that he really didn't have any other questions. "Sorry for the intrusion, we won't need to bother you anymore."
"Harry!" Ron seemed to find that surprising and unacceptable.
For once Ron and Malfoy seemed to agree.
"That's it?" Malfoy asked.
"It was just routine to satisfy the bureaucrats," Harry replied and gave Ron a look to shut up for now, "sorry to have had to disturb you, but thanks for getting us out of the office. It's been rather slow lately."
Then he offered his hand to the other man and waited. Malfoy appeared to consider this for a moment and then reached out and shook his offered limb. The moment Malfoy's fingers curled around his, it was like he was hit by ice water. All his nerves tingled and his senses woke up as if they had been turned onto high. The smell of Malfoy, the sight of Malfoy, the sound of Malfoy, the feel of Malfoy and even the taste of Malfoy that the scent left on the back of his tongue were all etched into his memory in a moment and it was all he could do to hold onto his vampire side as it tried to break free.
"Are you okay, Potter?" Malfoy asked, sounding somewhere between genuinely concerned and simply curious.
"Fine," he replied and pulled himself together, "just being here has brought back some old memories I'd rather forget."
"Quite," was what Malfoy replied.
"Well, we'll leave you to it then," Harry said and turned on his heel. "Come on, Ron, let's go catch some real villains."
Ron did not look best pleased, but held his tongue until they were outside.
"You felt something didn't you?" Ron said as soon as they were clear. "What was it? Dark magic?"
Harry almost laughed.
"No, Ron," Harry replied as they walked, trying to puzzle it out himself, "nothing like that; it was just kind of a mental moment. I flashed back to when we first met him and couldn't help wondering what would have happened if we had made friends then. You know how I went to that shrink for a while after Voldemort died, it just took me back to some of the things she said to me."
Ron was looking at him incredulously.
"But you can't possibly believe his cock and bull story," Ron tried to protest.
"Of course not," Harry replied, knowing just how to handle Ron, "but now he's off guard. I'll have my informants keep an eye out in Knockturn and we'll see."
He really didn't think there was much point, but it would keep Ron happy. In their partnership, he ran the informants and often led the charge when needed, Ron was the strategic master mind and that's the way it worked best. Now Ron smiled at him.
"Thank god," Ron said as they walked down the drive, "I thought you'd lost it there for a while, Mate."
Harry didn't bother mentioning he thought he might have; he needed to talk to his maker.
====
The sitting room was lit with just a couple of candles and for humans it would not have been enough, but as Harry walked in, vampire nature revealed, there was plenty of light. All vampires had a human guise if they so chose, but in vampire society it was only used when hunting or going among the mortals, not amongst their own kind. Harry had gone back to the office, filed a short report and then gone home on time for once. He had then taken a portkey to his maker's home where he had been invited in and shown to the sitting room by the human butler.
"Harry, how lovely to see you," Marcellus greeted, sweeping into the room with a grand entrance like any self respecting master vampire. "What brings you calling?"
Usually new vampires were dependent on their makers for years until their vampire magic matured enough to allow them to live on their own, but, because his wizarding magic had stayed intact, Harry had never needed that. He had offered Marcellus all the money he had had left from his parents to turn him, but since he hadn't needed to stay, Marcellus had returned most of it. They had, however, been very good friends since and Harry liked to give his maker expensive gifts just like his other friends. Being nearly a thousand years old and shrewd to go with it, Marcellus was very well provided for, but that didn't stop Harry, hence why he produced a bottle of very expensive wine. He had found it in Knockturn alley from a house clearance and he'd been waiting to give it to his maker.
"Something happened today," he replied, presenting the bottle to Marcellus, "and I've also been meaning to visit to give you this."
Marcellus' eyes lit up, literally; his maker was a connoisseur and Harry knew the vintage he had found was very rare.
"You darling boy, where did you find this?" Marcellus asked, delighted.
"I was checking stock from a house clearance for dark spells and this was in a trunk," Harry replied, pleased that his maker was happy. "The shop keeper was most surprised when I offered him a fair price for it, I'm sure he thought I would just confiscate it."
Marcellus smiled at him for that. They had had many a long talk about Harry's Gryffindor nature and Marcellus sometimes referred to him as Justice.
"I will have Digby decant it," Marcellus decided straight away, "that is if you have time to stay and share it with me?"
"I was hoping you'd say that," Harry replied, because he had been a little on edge ever since the incident earlier in the day.
Marcellus disappeared for a moment, but reappeared very shortly.
"Come, come, My Boy," his maker said, reminding him fondly of Dumbledore, "let's sit down so you can apprise me of what is bothering you."
There were two high wingback chairs in front of the fireplace and Harry took one gratefully. He had sat in the chair for many hours over their friendship as they talked about all sorts of things, but he had never been quite so confused. He had literally been thinking about Draco Malfoy for most of the day and he wasn't sure why.
"I met an old acquaintance from the bad old days today," Harry said, putting his thoughts in order even as he spoke. "You know I've mentioned Draco Malfoy?"
His maker nodded an affirmative.
"Well he's back in the country and Ron and I were sent to interview him, because of Ministry paranoia," he explained and didn't bother to hide his disdain. "Well he's grown up just like the rest of us and everything was quite civil, even Ron mostly, but then something strange happened when I shook his hand goodbye."
Marcellus appeared very interested in what he was saying.
"How strange exactly?" his maker asked and seemed to be trying to be casual about it.
"Strange as in his presence seemed to chisel its way into my head and I haven't been able to get rid of it since," Harry replied, since there was no point in being vague about it.
For a moment Marcellus' eyes lit up again and Harry had the feeling he had just said something significant.
"And you've been feeling like you wanted to go back and see him ever since, yes?" Marcellus said, all but bouncing in his chair.
Harry nodded now and wondered what was going on.
"Oh, My Boy," Marcellus said, clearly delighted, "you've found one. I always knew that if any of my children did it would be you. This makes me so happy for you."
That really wasn't overly clear and Harry was even more confused.
"One what?" he asked, not understanding at all yet.
"A mate," Marcellus replied, beaming at him.
Harry was glad he wasn't holding anything, because he would have dropped it.
"A mate?" he said and sounded rather silly to his own ears. "I don't understand," he added, since he really didn't.
"I have been remiss in my teaching," Marcellus told him, still enjoying the whole situation as far as Harry could tell, "but this is so rare. For some of us, Harry, there are mortals who fit with us. They attract us, their magical fields, be they latent or active, match with our own and their blood will feed us like nothing else, tasting like the finest wine. Very few of us find these matches, Harry, but you have. Your reaction was your vampire nature realising the match through physical contact."
Stunned was putting it mildly.
"What do I do?" he asked in a very dazed tone.
"You woo him of course," Marcellus said, smiling all the time. "He will find you just as irresistible once you are close enough. Anything else is unacceptable."
When Digby brought the wine, Harry downed his first glass in one gulp.
====
Malfoy looked rather surprised to see him when his school nemesis opened the door of the manor.
"Potter," Malfoy said, not sounding overly pleased to see him, "what do you want?"
Now there were many ways to woo a prospective mate, formally and informally and after speaking to Marcellus, Harry had decided on the formal route. He didn't think Malfoy would take to well to informal advances without knowing why, since they had never exactly been friends.
"I wish to formally request the honour of courting you," Harry said and thrust the box he was carrying at Malfoy.
The expression on Malfoy's face was priceless.
"This is a joke isn't it, one of Weasley's ridiculous ideas?" Malfoy responded, without taking the small box.
"I swear on the memory of my ancestors, this is not a joke, Malfoy," Harry replied, having been prepared for such a reaction.
Malfoy looked even more shocked, since it was quite an oath Harry had just sworn.
"Why?" was Malfoy's next question.
"Look in the box," was all Harry said, because he knew the Malfoy would know what his gift meant.
There were forms for courtship in the wizarding world, many of them having fallen out of use, but purebloods liked their traditions. Clearly still unsure, Malfoy finally took the box and quickly opened it. There on black velvet was a crystal fang, enamelled at one end with red to represent blood and set in a pure silver clasp on a pure silver chain. Silver when mixed with vampire blood became a very potent magical substance and hence silver was the most precious metal in vampire circles.
"You know what this means?" Malfoy seemed to think that Harry was confused.
"Perfectly," Harry replied, "and so do you."
"You're a vampire," Malfoy said in a statement of fact.
"For five years," Harry responded, hiding nothing, "since the day after my twenty first birthday. I wanted to vanish, but fate had other ideas and I think I know why now."
At that Malfoy actually laughed.
"You think fate made you a wizard vampire because of me?" Malfoy said and Harry nodded, since that was what he had been implying.
He was putting his whole life on the line, but there was no other way. Marcellus had told him that he could not avoid this, that unless Malfoy died, now that his vampire side knew it would never rest.
"No one else knows, do they, Potter?" Malfoy said next, rationalising everything out like a good Slytherin.
"No one," Harry replied and felt a little ashamed about that, "but if you accept they will."
There was no way Harry could do this without his friends knowing and he had no doubt that as soon as a few knew, the press would find out somehow. Not that that bothered him as much as it had; it seemed all his worry was focused on Malfoy now and nothing else. It was possible Malfoy could refuse him, especially given their history. If Malfoy did, Harry would have to leave, it was as simple as that, because if they were in the same country Harry was sure he would not be able to control himself.
"What will you do if I accept?" Malfoy asked and gave him a little hope.
"Whatever you require of me," Harry replied, since he was willing to do just about anything.
In days of old, courting had often included tests for the party making the overtures and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Malfoy decided to go that route. As Harry held his breath, Malfoy took the pendant out of the box and looked at it, and then, having slipped the box into his pocket, Malfoy fastened it around his elegant neck.
"I accept," Malfoy said, much to his surprise and then, to his complete astonishment reached out, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him inside.
He found himself standing in Malfoy's hallway as the door slammed behind him.
"I'm fed up of games," Malfoy said, looking him directly in the eye. "All they have got me so far is a failed marriage and my mother trying to arrange a new one for me as quickly as possible. Show me what you're made of, Potter, and then we'll talk."
For a moment Harry didn't know what to do and he just stood there, but the challenge in Malfoy's eyes fired him up. Throwing caution to the wind, as was his nature, he shed his human disguise and then just let Malfoy look at him for a moment. He didn't really know what Malfoy expected of him, but he decided he didn't care; he was just going to do as he was told and show Malfoy exactly what he was made of. The fact that Malfoy's eyes went just a little glassy when looking at his revealed nature gave him a hint that he might be on to a winner.
"Whatever you want, Draco," he said, choosing to use Malfoy's first name, since he was about to take liberties with the man's person.
Marcellus had told him his instincts would lead him well and that he would sense what his prospective mate would like and his instincts were screaming sex. With that in mind, he decided that melting Draco's brain was the first order of business, after which they could talk practicalities and possibly more sex.
The hallway they were in had a large staircase up to the second floor and Harry decided that would do. Smiling a very fangy smile, he all but bodily picked Malfoy up and moved them both until they were at the stairs, then he pushed Malfoy down and followed closely behind. Before Malfoy had even the remotest chance to say anything, he used vampire speed to open Malfoy's button fly and slide his hand inside, vampire strength to pin Malfoy down and just the fact that he knew where people's weak points were to make Malfoy moan as he attached lips to neck.
He wanted to bite; he really, really wanted to bite, but he held himself back, just nuzzling the warm skin about the pulsing blood vessel. He didn't want it to be over too soon and if he bit he knew it would be.
"Oh god, Potter," Draco said, sounding breathless, for which Harry scored himself lots of points, "still direct I see."
Harry just growled and wrapped his fingers firmly around Draco's cock, pulling Draco free from underwear and trousers as he did so. He was going to make Draco pay for that comment with slow, wonderful torture. Thus began his exploration.
It took him a moment or two to figure out what Draco really liked as far as hand on cock went, but once he had it, he knew he could push Draco on and pull him back anyway he wanted to. Having very sensitive sense helped a lot in knowing exactly how Draco was reacting to what he was doing. He also moved on from nuzzling Draco's neck, partially because the temptation was too great and partially because he wanted to try some other things as well.
Doing his best not to rip buttons from material in his need, he opened Draco's shirt and kissed his way around Draco's chest. While he found that Draco's nipples were very sensitive, he found that the edge of the muscle just to the side seemed to be more so for his new lover. When he nipped and licked there, Draco actually writhed and it wasn't because Draco was ticklish.
Over the course of his exploration Draco tried to speak several times, but Harry managed to make his lover lose his train of thought every time. It was an amazingly fun game and he kept playing it for as long as he thought Draco could take it. He knew for a fact that having to beg would embarrass Draco and probably not be a good start to their relationship; they could add that twist when they knew each other better, so, when he thought Draco was about ready to plead, he had mercy.
He moved back up Draco's body, making sure to keep his hand moving in a smooth rhythm and then he picked a spot just about where the silver chain hung around Draco's neck. He nuzzled there for a few moments and then he opened his mouth and left his fangs slide into Draco's delicious skin. Draco's hands, which had up to then been grasping at the lush carpet on the stairs, grabbed for him, fixing onto his shoulders with the vice like power of a man who still liked to fly a broom. He let his magic flow through the blood connection that burst into life between them and, as pleasure flooded him, he let it flood Draco as well. He was hard as well and ground himself against Draco's hip as he pushed Draco that final distance, reducing his lover to a shuddering, gasping heap below him.
He wanted to let go as well, to come as Draco was coming, in long, blissful waves, but he held himself back. This was about Draco and he had had more than enough pleasure from the blood, so if Draco wanted to return the favour later, he would not object, but he did not allow himself the extra pleasure at that moment.
Drawing back slowly, he sent a wordless, wandless healing spell at the wounds on Draco's neck, watching them close and almost vanish, even as he milked Draco for his final moments of orgasm. Draco looked beautiful spread out on the stairs, head back, eyes closed and appearing completely satisfied. It was a look Harry wanted to see a hell of a lot more, of that both his vampire nature and wizard nature were very sure.
He felt amazing. Turned on and energised like he had never been before he knew he was now completely addicted and he wanted more. He had a nasty suspicion that if Draco decided that he wasn't interested now, his lover might have to fight him off with a stick, a very big, pointy one. A stake through the heart didn't kill a vampire, but it did put them into a coma while their body repaired itself and Harry was pretty sure that was the only way Draco would be able to get rid of him.
When Draco finally opened his eyes, Harry just waited.
"I would give you a score out of ten," Draco said with a small smirk, "but I seem to have misplaced the ability to count."
"I'm sure I can live without knowing," Harry replied and wondered vaguely what Draco was really like.
They didn't know each other, not any more and Harry found that he wanted to and wanted to very badly. His vampire nature was getting exactly what it wanted, but his human nature needed feeding as well.
"I was going to invite you to dinner, before you dragged me inside," he said, feeling rather pleased with himself, "one of my house elves is an amazing cook. Would you be interested?"
"Would that count as doing the first date backwards?" Draco replied, not even bothering to try and move yet.
"If you like," Harry replied, finding he liked Draco's sense of humour already, "but then this is me, when do I ever do anything the proper way around."
"True, true," Draco replied, as if considering that statement, "I suppose I'm going to have to get used to that."
Harry didn't even attempt to stop the beaming smile that that forced onto his face.
"It would probably make your life easier," he agreed, trying not to sound too keen.
For a moment Draco just looked at him, serious for an instant in time and he knew that they were both thinking about the future. Explaining this to his friends and surrogate family was going to be interesting and the press were bound to make a huge thing of it. He would have to go through an enquiry at work, because he hadn't revealed his vampire nature and he might even lose his job if the Ministry decided to be idiots, but he was prepared for it all. After his talk with Marcellus he knew that this was where his destiny lay, come what may and he was ready the follow it through.
"I am so going to enjoy letting mother down with a bump," Draco said and broke the mood completely.
That made Harry laugh; he could just imagine that conversation.
In the end, if Draco accepted him as a mate he would share his blood and his power with Draco. It would link their life forces together and give Draco the same immortality as Harry without turning him into an actual vampire. As Marcellus had explained it, Draco would probably pick up a few vampire habits, like aversion to bright sunlight and a craving for blood, but it would be a mirror of Harry, rather than a real physiological change. Harry looked forward to the day when he could make Draco his, but for now he would settle for dinner.
The End