Red Passion - HP - Draco/Hermione - 6/31
Title: Red Passion
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Mature (R)
Links: Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5
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 6
Draco raised a brow, taking a step back from the bed. He was not having a good day, or month for that matter, and he would not put up with a haughty little mudblood spitting out accusations.
"Granger, you would think that with brains like yours..."
"I don't want to hear it, Malfoy," she hissed, jerking forward with her chin raised. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Where am I? What did you do to me?"
"I didn't do a damned thing to you!" Draco growled, deciding at once that she was much easier to handle asleep. She and dragons had that in common. "As if I would even touch one hair on your filthy head. Now, shut it, Granger."
"How did I get here?" the witch snapped.
For a moment, Draco couldn't imagine her ever calling him arrogant. Of course, she would most likely say that she was expressing her Gryffindor bravery by shouting like a banshee.
"Why don't you tell me?" Draco turned, walking back toward the door. This was a mistake. What the bloody hell was I thinking coming down here? Maybe I should have taken that old bird's advice and gloated about her inevitable demise. He looked over his shoulder at the young woman, feeling her gaze on his back. "What?" he sneered. "Is there something on my face?"
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but instead, she stared back at him, her eyes slowly widening as if in realization. She broke eye contact, looking down at her bare feet. "What happened to your neck?"
Draco's fingers lifted toward his collar, tugging at the fabric until it covered his fang pierced, reddened skin. He wanted to walk out the door, lock it behind him, but suddenly he couldn't leave. He was in a house, trapped with a loon of a maid and a blood sucking host, and Hermione Granger, enemy mudblood or not, was the only person who could possible help him get out of his current situation.
He stood at the room's center. "A vampire brought you to this house. Sanguini. Do you remember any of that, Granger?"
"I think so," she answered softly.
She was trying to remain civil, Draco realized. Probably after using that famous intelligence of hers to realize that I had absolutely nothing to do with her kidnapping.
"I was out late, coming home from the market. Mother had asked me to pick up a few things for supper. I went past the park and saw a couple on a bench, at least that's what I thought. But when I got closer, the man looked up, and I recognized him." She shook her head. "I remember pulling my wand, but obviously something went wrong. I don't remember anything else."
"He almost had you for a midnight snack," Draco spat.
"What?"
Draco almost admitted that he had accidentally saved her life, but he let that statement drop. No, gloating. That's what that old bat wants you to do. "The vampire who lives here decided to keep you for his own. His name's Darien. The housekeeper is Madam Hart."
"Keep me for his own!" Hermione shouted, her face flushed with outrage. "And what about you? You can't tell me that you're innocent in all this."
"You're mad," Draco hissed. If she only knew..."I already told you that I had nothing to do with this."
Hermione frowned, attempting to cross her arms with no avail. "Oh? Then what are you doing here? You look as if this vampire's been using you as a keg of butterbeer. I guess that accounts for the rumors of your death."
"Rumors of my death? Is that some sort of joke?" Draco stomped across the room, standing at the foot of the bed.
"A few days ago the Daily Prophet had an article mentioning your assumed death. I don't know who their source was, but obviously they were mistaken," Hermione answered.
"Obviously."
"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "That's none of your business."
"I'm making it my business, Malfoy."
Draco had never found retorts so tiring. Perhaps it was the 'late night partying' that he had unwillingly partaken in the past evening. Or, maybe, it was simply the low red blood cell count. Nevertheless, Draco was actually in the mood to give a straight answer to the witch, even if his civility was due to exhaustion.
However, he did not have to reply. There was a soft knock on the door and the knob turned to reveal Madam Hart standing on the other side, a crooked grin on her face.
"Hello, children. Forgive my interruption, but it's time for you to prepare for dinner. I will aid the young lady, Master Draco." Her grin broadened at the wizard. "I suggest you retire to your quarters for a few hours. Come along." She gestured at her side, and Draco followed her suggestion, walking out of the room without giving Granger another glance.
"What we were discussing earlier..." he began, stopping behind the old muggle.
Madame Hart patted his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Oh, don't fret over decision making, deary. That's to be discussed over dinner. The Master will be joining you this evening."
Draco stepped past her, onto the staircase, quickly walking to his room.
"Dinner with the vampire," he hissed.
I wonder if Granger's on the menu.
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