Red Passion - HP - Draco/Hermione - 29/31
Title: Red Passion
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Mature (R)
Links: Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Chapter 19 + Chapter 20 + Chapter 21 + Chapter 22 + Chapter 23 + Chapter 24 + Chapter 25 + Chapter 26 + Chapter 27 + Chapter 28
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 29
The vampire's teeth sunk in and took one deep draw of Draco's blood before pulling out again. Draco shuttered in the humid air of the passage, feeling both chilled and flushed by the feverish rush of blood through his body. He looked up in shock, unable to contemplate anything but the sound of his own pulse against his ear drums.
Behind that rhythmic noise, however, was another sound, a voice. Words spoken in a memory of a memory: "Blood is life. Blood has bonded me to you. I claim you, Draco Malfoy. You are mine. Do you understand?"
Darien put his wrist to his own mouth, biting down in one quick motion. He held his bleeding hand out to the wizard.
"Blood is life."
It seemed like so long ago. Those words had been spoken to Draco the night he was supposed to die, and did die, according to the newspapers. He'd woken to the dark wisdom in the home of a vampire, and his life had, forever, changed. And, though Darien had not spoken them again, in this moment of confusion, the memory of the explanation surfaced in Draco's mind.
"Drink," Darien commanded.
"I thought you were going to kill me," Draco said, blinking.
"I still might if you do not do as I say," the vampire snapped.
He didn't wait for Draco to make a move, instead pressing his wrist against the young man's mouth. Choking on the sudden flood of blood on his tongue, Draco swallowed once before pulling away. He fell easily from Darien's grasp and stumbled back against the darkened passage's wall.
"Why?" he said, swiping at the wetness dribbling down his chin.
Darien did not at first answer, but the memory of his voice was loud in Draco's mind, and the wizard felt the need to speak.
"I hoped you were dead. For good," he said. His eyes were dry, strained, as he forced himself not to blink. A blink was all the time it would take for Darien to rip out Draco's throat, if the vampire so wished it. "When your manor was burnt to the ground. I wanted you to be in it. But you already know that, don't you?"
"Yes, it occurred to me. Since you did poison me."
"Why am I alive then?" Draco asked. He swallowed, wincing from the metal taste still between his teeth.
Darien licked his own wrist, cleaning it. The wound had already closed when he dropped his arm to his side. He stared at the end of the passageway with an almost predatory fervor in his eyes.
"Because," Darien said. His answer seemed to fade in the stale air surrounding him. He began again. "Perhaps you shouldn't question my mercy, boy."
"It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters," Draco muttered. The words didn't form a statement, but, instead, a question. He had no need to search his memory for the line. He remembered the speaker, the man who'd stood before him, twinkling eyes seeming to read his heart like an open book. No, Draco would never forget those words. But he wasn't sure why he spoke them now, to Darien, and if the quote still held its weight.
Darien shook his head, the hint of smile on his face. "Then you know?" he said. He stilled, staring into Draco's gray gaze. "You do. You have pieces to the answer inside you, no doubt plucked from my mind. Perhaps the girl's...if she learned anything from the books within my library. But you don't have the question, my dragon."
Draco's patience was wearing thin. "Then what is the question?"
"Later," Darien replied. "Now isn't the time."
"But it was a decent time for us to play the blood exchange game?" Draco snapped.
"You were weak," Darien said. When the silence between them continued, he shook his head. "When she, Hermione, lay dying, you forced her to take my blood. When she drunk from me, she took with my blood the connection between us, Draco. And it was intensified by the... interaction between the two of you. If I am to release you back to her, I do not want that bond clouding your judgement."
A scream sounded through the stone walls surrounding them. The ceiling above shook, loose dirt and dust falling down onto their heads.
Darien grabbed hold of Draco's collar, pushing him towards the torch-lit exit of the passage. "There is a staircase there, follow it up," Darien said. "Find a place to hide in the bedrooms. I'll come for you."
Draco's eyes were on the shaking stones above him. "But what's going on up there?"
"A battle. It does not concern you," Darien snapped. "Now go! I will draw the other vampires away from you."
The vampire's eyes stayed on the young man as he ran towards the dim light, turning away, his footsteps sounding as he ascended.
"You are so foolish, love."
Darien turned to greet the speaker with a grimace. Annalisa's animal-like eyes moved slightly in the shadowed exit of the passage as she shook her head.
"This is for the best," Darien replied. "And, yes, I know that I am a great fool."
"You should have told him," Annalisa chided. "Or killed him. Either would have been fine with me. Either would have left me with a stronger soldier."
"The bond will help with that."
"Will it help enough, though?" she asked.
Darien closed his eyes, listening to the movements above with such intensity that an onlooker might have mistaken him for a standing corpse.
"Aid has arrived," he said, as if in answer.
"Lucky you." Annalisa released an open smile. Her white teeth almost glowing in the shadows. "Let us get a bite, then, shall we? Before the good bodies are picked over."
The staircase wound up the side of the castle, but Draco had not yet made it out of the underground, to the surface. Where he was supposed to find a corridor. He could almost see it in his mind, a room with a charmed closet, awaiting his arrival. He knew the visual must have been from Darien, though he chose not to think on that factor too much. If he did, he might reveal his true intent, which would not involve crouching in a small wardrobe and hoping to avoid spying eyes.
The thought of the outside surfaced, and he pushed it down, nearly closing his eyes to block out the vision of the room.
Draco, where are you?
He stumbled over one of the stone stairs, falling to his knees. The rock below was hard and cold, but not half so cold as the chilling gust that passed above him in the form of a green streak. Draco forgot how to breath when he registered that there was a wizard behind him, close enough to aim a spell around the spiraling staircase. He stayed low and shoved himself against the innermost wall, all but flying up the stairs. Footsteps, his pursuer's presence now revealed, were loud and clapping behind him.
You're here!
Draco had to force himself not to come to a slamming stop when he recognized the voice. Hermione's. It seemed distant in his mind, as if it lay behind a cloud of white noise. But he knew she must be close. Darien had reformed his bond only minutes earlier. For her words to come through, she must be...
He almost didn't see opening to the outside walkway leading to the center courtyard of the skeletal castle. He slid back to it, pushing himself through the archway just as the stones above his head exploded. The blast forced him to his knees and he fell into a crouch, his elbows bouncing off of the walkway. The corner of eye was alight with the colors splashing the square lot of land at the building's center. Logic caught up with him before he had fully turned to face the duels taking place over the courtyard.
Duels was, perhaps, not the right word, as a good portion of the fighters were not using wand magic, but the weapons of their species instead. A wad of wizards were standing in a sloppy circle, shooting spells in every direction. A shaking fear had almost swept through Draco completely before he recognized their forms. They weren't Death Eaters. In fact, quite a few of them were aurors.
Draco breathed, surprise leaving him wide eyed. "What are they doing here?"
He felt the motion in front of him and ducked his head on instinct.
"Expelliarmus!"
The red slam of the spell missed him, throwing back the Death Eater approaching from behind. Draco had almost forgotten about him.
"Get the wand, you wanker!" a man's voice snapped.
Draco scrambled towards the Death Eater's wand, glancing up to see Ron Weasley covering his back. The red-head didn't spare him a glance, his vision trained on the battle ahead. Draco snatched up the wand and took quick aim at the empty air before him, preparing for an attack.
"Hermione?" Draco asked.
Ron nodded. "How do you think we found you?"
"But, the..."
"Yeah," Ron interrupted, "suppose she decided that asking her friends for help wasn't such a bad thing after all. We backtracked after the attack at the inn, found Lupin. He brought the rest."
Draco felt his face flush. "You have got to be kidding me. All of that running about and she goes back to get the werewolf?"
"Apparently, she thought you going to die." Ron's brow wrinkled in annoyance, and he released the stunning spell at a wizard who looked as if he were trying to retreat. "And does it bloody well look like I have time to take questions?"
Draco rolled his eyes and turned his attention back on the scene in front of him. Vampires streaked in and out of his vision so quickly that he could barely glimpse their faces, much less know what side they were on. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't particularly sure he could trust either group, but he was certain that any vampire fighting with the Death Eaters would be of a mind to kill first, ask their master about it later.
A streak of flames crossed the courtyard, slamming into one of the undead. A high scream burst out as the vampire collapsed, twitching as the fire crawled over the surface of their body, rendering them incapable. That sound, that was the one Draco had heard earlier.
"Fire," he told himself, with a quick nod. Burn the dead.
"Harry," Ron said, as if in answer.
He took off in a run towards the far side of the courtyard. Harry was standing with his back to a wall, two vampires closing in and dodging the flames spilling out of his wand. The red-head joined his friend moments later, taking aim. As Draco watched, he could see another figure sprout from the shadows, grabbing one of the vampires from behind. The two figures slowed as they struggled against each other, and Draco could see that Hermione held the offending creature against her body, her arm wrapped under his chin.
"Hermione!" Draco said, suddenly exhilarated.
His heart beat pounded within his ears, seeming louder that the battle surrounding him. He dodged a red streak and hugged the wall under one walkway, hiding himself behind the columns as he slowly proceeded towards the trio.
Draco, watch out!
The warning came too late, the disarming spell hitting his wand arm. Draco stumbled back, searching for his attacker. The Death Eater stepped past the remaining embers of a vampire, walking with a sort of graceful swagger that Draco recognized more that the voice spilling out from behind the mask.
"What a pity, nephew," Bellatrix said, shaking her head ever so slightly. Her wand was trained, her glove groaning as her grip tightened. She clicked her tongue. "Quite frankly, it would have been easier on you if you'd simply died. But too late for that, I suppose."
"Aunt..."
She giggled softly, raising the wand. "You seem to like vampire company so much...perhaps you'd also enjoy taking their punishment as well?"
Her head tilted forward, a grin showing beneath the mask. "Incendio!"
Draco felt the stir of movement beside him as a vampire came to a sudden stop, cold fingers wrapping around his arm just in time to throw him out of harm's way. The fire burst out with such accuracy and intent that it looked like flaming canon fodder as it slammed past the wizard and into the person beside him, throwing the vampire through the thick stone wall.
Draco felt the sweat on his brow turn to icy droplets. Fear gripped him when his eyes automatically found the spot where Ron and Harry were pushing back a vampire. Hermione was no longer fighting with her friends.
Hermione. The vampire beside him.
Draco took no time to call out to her, thinking the pain welling up within him was enough of a confirmation. He dodged the spell Bellatrix sent his way, jumping through the hole in the wall, digging through the rubble for the body. The furniture in the room seemed almost untouched, but for a heavy table slanting downward, two of its legs snapped from the impact of stone blocks. Draco stepped past it, anxious eyes probing the shadows behind the table. He didn't have to look far for the body. Smoke filtered up, the fire on the flesh extinguished by the brutal slam of stones.
"Hermione!" Draco called, reaching out.
"Expulso!" Bellatrix hissed.
The table exploded, pushing Draco back. A sharp pain shot through his chest, and he collapsed onto the littered floor, grasping at his breast and painfully sucking in the thick air surrounding him. But he found no shard there, at his heart. Splinters stuck through his shirt along one arm, leaving a stinging pattern of crimson dots on the dark shirt. But nothing had touched his chest, though the throbbing ache remained.
He blinked in confusion, shielding his eyes from the ash and woodchips drifting back to the floor. Before he moved for the body, he froze, reminded that there was a witch with a ready wand at the exit. A scowl on his face, he turned to face his aunt, but found her detained... Annalisa's strong arms were around Bellatrix, delicate fingers twisting ever so slightly and snapping the bones along the witch's forearm. The high pitch of her cry was almost as alarming as the biting, bitter chuckle laced within the scream. Annalisa moved her other arm over the woman's torso, a crunching sound bringing silence to Bellatrix's laughter.
Draco looked away, a welling of confusing emotions building in him, and focused, instead, on the body laying a few feet from him. Still on his knees, he scrambled to the spot, pushing a stone out of the way. He hesitated when his eyes looked past the debris, to the charcoaled torso covered in dust and gravel and table remains. Splinters of wood stuck out from the side of the vampire's chest, their diagonal landings seeming to fool the eye. But Draco wasn't fooled. He knew why he felt the burning in his breast now. One of those splinters had torn through the heart.
He knew already, from the burned torso before him, that he had been wrong. This wasn't Hermione. He pushed the plank of wood off of the body's face, staring down in surprise. The skin of the face was almost untouched by the flames, their licking black streaks ending at the vampire's jaw.
"Darien?" Draco asked. But he knew the vampire could see him. Darien's eyes were open, bloodshot and staring directly at the young man. "What can I do?"
Darien released a sigh of breath from between his bloodless lips that sounded more like a breeze pushing through a cave's corridor than a human inclination. With effort, the vampire shifted his head slightly, as if to better see the young man beside him.
Nothing, Dragon.
Draco closed his eyes, his brow wrinkled in frustration. "I hate you," he bit, unable to look at the vampire. Every word was heavy and wished to remain within his throat, but he forced out the question. "Why did you do that? Why did you save me?"
I had to, my son.
"But I hate you," Draco insisted. He opened his eyes, wiping away the wetness there. "You're a manipulator, a murderer. And you wanted to make me into one."
Murderer? Yes. I am to be hated. But I would have given so much, boy. The girl...
"You wanted her dead!"
Would you ever have loved her without my aid? Do you not remember? Your hate means so little. You gave her your rage long before I met you...
"Draco," the vampire said aloud, his voice caught in his throat. Even as he spoke, the stolen blood within his flesh seemed to pull further away from the skin, leaving it paper thin.
Draco held his breath. One good blow, he believed, and the creature would crumble to pieces.
"Just be quiet," Draco whispered.
"Draco," Darien began, "you found the question. But you didn't ask it right." He paused, his fingers sliding across the floor to meet Draco's hand. His grip was too weak and Draco was afraid to return it.
"Why did you save me?" Draco repeated. He chewed his lip, uncomfortable with the image crawling across his mind. It was of the room Voldemort had put him in, to await his punishment. "Why me?" he asked, with sudden realization. "You're not merciful. You don't care if someone dies. So why did you choose me that night?"
Darien smiled sadly. "That is the question," he said. "You will not like... the answer."
"Tell me," Draco insisted, his hand tightening around the fingers in his palm. The charcoal flesh flaked away against the grip of his sweaty skin, and he pulled away in disgust.
Ask Annalisa. She will tell you. Both of you...
"Both?" Draco asked.
Darien's eyes closed. Draco felt a sudden emptiness in his mind and knew that the vampire was no more. He stood up, slowly stepping back from the corpse, and turned away, not wanting to see what happened to that papery flesh when there was no more blood to sustain it.
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