Red Passion - HP - Draco/Hermione - 8/31
Title: Red Passion
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Mature (R)
Links: Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7
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 8
"Show him in," the vampire said, dismissing Madam Hart.
Draco felt his body tense as he tried to push the rage he felt back down, burying it deep within the dungeons of his mind. Yet, he could still feel the heat off of his cheeks, a reminder of the shame. No matter what the vampire said, he knew that simply not speaking, not fighting for the honor of that girl in front of him was wrong...But was anything in this place "right"?
Why the hell should I care about Darien's threats? Why should I care about that mudblood's life at all?
Hermione caught his eye from across the table. She seemed somewhat dazed, but now the witch was watching him, an almost dreamy expression in her gaze. A shallow breath escaped from between her lips, and Draco froze at the soft sound.
Merlin, I hope she doesn't remember. Please, don't let her remember what he did to her...
"Are you alright, Malfoy?" she asked, her voice quiet.
"I..."
"He's a bit flushed from the heat," Darien answered for him, his tone as calm and controlling as ever. "Poor, boy. Must be a water dragon, mustn't he, Miss Granger? Playing with fire wears him out so."
Hermione gave the vampire a cautious glance, leaving his comment in the air.
"I disagree," came a reply from the doorway.
Sanguini walked into the dining area, without even giving his host a greeting, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. The vampire slumped down, somewhat less graceful than most of his brethren would have, leaning back into his chair as if he were a drunk. But his eyes stayed on Draco throughout his almost childish display of absent manners.
Physically, Sanguini appeared to look somewhat similar to Darien, the same dark beauty, the same radiating strength and power, but Sanguini lacked that cool unpredictability that made him so frightening. Likewise, this other vampire showed no seductive charm, no patience, no ticking clocks in his eyes. And his hate, it appeared, was worn on his sleeve.
I wish I knew exactly what it was I did to piss that bastard off, the wizard pondered, though, he had a good idea that it involved Darien's little party.
Finally, breaking contact with Draco, Sanguini looked up to the head of the table where Darien sat, a polite, dangerous smile on his face.
"I think your boy would sink in water-a theory of mine that I have been meaning to try out."
"Perhaps another time," Darien answered, quietly. He watched the vampire in silence for a moment more before gesturing to the wizard at his side. "Draco, would you please pour Mr. Sanguini a glass of wine? He seems quite parched."
The wizard gave his 'master' a look of distaste, a wave of rage still burning deep within his eyes. Nevertheless, he stood, bottle in hand and walked down to the end of the table, not bothering to look at the vampire as he poured the glass.
Sanguini stood slightly, his copper-scented mouth too close for comfort. "I am a bit hungry, Darien," he said into the young man's face. "Why don't I just take what I came for and please my tongue with my own brew?"
Draco clenched his jaw, inadvertently sloshing wine onto the table as he quickly rose up, backing away from the vampire. "What exactly did you come for?" the wizard snapped, feeling a bit of his pureblood pride showing.
"A dinner with an old friend," Darien answered. "Sit down, dragon. Don't be rude."
"Rude?" Draco spit.
Darien's eyes lit with crimson specks, but he made no direct movements, as still as an old cat on his favorite cushion. "Do as I say."
"Perhaps you should get your pet dragon a leash?" Sanguini drawled, spitting his words at the other vampire. "Or a cage. But I don't care what the boy does, or what you do to your boy. You know I don't care for you company. Just give me what is mine, Darien, and I will be gone, out of your little plaything's hair."
"Oh, I forgot to mention, Sanguini..." Darien released a grin, his long canines showing like tear-shaped pearls pressing into his lower lip. "There has been a change of plans. I am afraid that I will be keeping the girl after all. My dragon seems to have decided to stick with his original declaration. I'm sure you understand-humans are so fickle."
Draco raised a brow at Darien's statement, but it was Hermione who slammed an open hand on the table, her fire returning in an instant. "What are you talking about?" she said, her lips tightly pursed. "I'm no ones to keep!"
"What the hell do you mean, Darien?" Sanguini shouted, interrupting her. He leaned onto the table on both arms, eyes swimming in crimson, upper lip drawn back. "Is this a game to you? Is it? I'll show you what it means to play your betters," he growled.
"You will not," Darien said, casually crossing his legs. "I never promised to give you the witch back...In fact, I wonder why you are so very desperate to have her? She must have blood like warm honey for you to come back to my manor. Of course, there is another answer...By chance, did you lie to Madam Holly? I thought you said that your master did not know about this one?"
He glanced over at Hermione's enraged form. Somehow the girl was managing to hold her tongue, for the moment at least.
Sanguini snarled at the statement. "You question my honor."
Darien laughed, tapping his long fingers on the table top, as if bored. "Honor? Oh, Sanguini, after all this time, you still know how to make the most appealing jests. You lied to Holly and Annalisa, did you not? You went bragging to your Dark Lord about your catch, and he told you to bring the witch to him-quit salivating, fool, you will never taste her blood, whether I give her to you or not."
Darien sat up suddenly, straight and menacing. "But I have a solution. Perhaps we should ask her whom she would prefer to stay with-like a pup licking its favorite master? Miss Granger, would you like to surrender yourself to the one known as Lord Voldemort or stay here, as my guest?"
Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise at the question.
Draco hissed through his teeth, memories of his time spent under the Dark Lord's punishment filling his head. He shouted out an answer before the witch could speak. "Tell this idiot to shove off!"
The wizard's head snapped back before he was even aware of the vampire behind him. Sanguini had moved like lightning, grabbing Draco by the hair and yanking him onto his toes until his neck was bare. He had a finger pressed against the young man's flesh, pressing into the pale skin.
"Give me the girl, or I'll take your dragon instead," Sanguini sneered, his jagged nail drawing blood.
"Let go of me, you bastard!" Draco cried, clawing at the vampire's hand. "Let go!"
"Calm yourself, Sanguini," Darien said, almost in a yawn, leaning over on the arm of his chair, eyes half-lidded as if the ordeal was enough to put him to sleep. "You continue to prove Miss Granger's value to me, with every desperate move, every word you say. I would never relinquish her to you now-in fact, if I wished it, I could take her directly to the source, have the Dark Lord owe me even more favors. That alone is worth a dozen more dragons."
"A bluff," Sanguini accused. He let another moment pass, a deep, guttural sound of discontent issuing out of his throat. "But if what you say is true, then I should at least take something from this evening. This skinny brat will do fine."
Draco felt the vampire's grip move to his side, pinching flesh as his supernatural strength lifted the wizard off of the ground. All the breath left the young man's body as he was flung across the room. He crashed into the wall, his torso shattering a portrait's glass cover, his head cracking against plaster. He fell to a heap, gasping at the pain wracking threw his pummeled body.
And, in under a second, Sanguini was standing over him, crouching low, a jagged piece of the frame in one hand, slicing into the soft flesh of Draco's forehead, down his eye brow, past his eye, across his pale cheek. The wizard screamed in agony as the glass sliced into him like butter, warm blood flowing into his line of sight. Hermione's cries echoed his own, but the wizard could only hear himself, his own agony from his ribs to his crown, all of it crushing him into oblivion.
"Will you keep him? An ugly Dragon?" Sanguini hissed.
As suddenly as he had appeared, the vampire was gone again.
Draco's voice left him, his head lolling to the size. He saw Darien throwing Sanguini onto the table behind him, a piece of wood, the arm of his chair, posed high over the foul vampire's chest. There was shouting, movement so quick that the wizard couldn't keep up.
Draco was barely aware of another figure, blurring as his vision faded, the distinct form of a woman, collapsing beside him, her soft hand against his stinging face. She asked him a question, hysterical, but he couldn't answer, his eyes rolling back into his head as darkness met him.
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