Important Note: I apologize, guys, for the wait. You see, school's started and I'm trying to get used to the pace of things. Very different, I tell you. Now that I've got the time, I've given you another lovely chapter. I cannot, however guarantee when another chapter will be up. I noted in HF's ch7 how I'd only be working on it and a FF7 story of mine, CO. All other works are set aside for a while, or else just updated less frequently. I figured this is horrifying news for you all, but dedicated readers should know of my habit and what happens when I pay too much attention to my stories and not my school work.
I apologize again and again, guys. I would never abandon you. Please, enjoy this new chapter and review. And cross your fingers and wish real hard, you never know, the next chapter may come up next week, or next MONTH. (That sounds really terrible, even to me, y'know.)
Reminded Disclaimer:Once again, I do not own the HP series. (Since it's been so long since I've updated, I thought a reminder could be put into use.)
Another Important Note: Yes, 10/7/04 (Thursday) was BF's birthday! How could anyone forget! It's one year old now, and (sadly) only has four chapters out! Oh no! Hopefully, by it's next birthday, it will either be finished, or have more chapters out. I'm terribly sorry for such a delay on the updating. I'm a terrible, terrible writer. smacks self I left you hanging with such a cliff hanger! Huaa And not to mention I'm super tired right now and I have a headache. Ulgh, I hope you guys still like the chapter nonetheless.
What's Happened So Far: Well, you should know that in our last chapter, we had a snippet of Draco's lovely life. Well, not really. He has a bed deal with a certain red-eyed person, Pansy's given a punishment so bad, she can't leave the room she's confined in, and worst off, the little black-haired, green-eyed human that happened to make his way into Draco's club happens to be the same human who witnessed Pansy take a late night snack behind a corner store. Uh-oh. Draco's got a lot on his mind, and we're about to find out how he's going to deal with this offense to the Vamp Code. Will he have to kill off his new "pet"? Will he turn the other way? This boy's under a lot of stress, and Blaise seems like the only friend our Malfoy can rely on.
By Duchess of Darkness - Kaz
Water hit his face. Several drops rolled from the corner of his eyes. Grey irises stared into the showerhead, ignoring the droplets that obscured its vision. Images that played over and over in his head were far more vivid than anything he saw at the moment. He didn't know how long he had been standing in the shower. The tips of his fingers were starting to prune. His body felt soaked to no end. He was weird all over. He opened his mouth and bared his teeth. Canines jabbed his skin and he bit down on his lower lip. Blood slid past his tongue and down his throat. A gasp followed by a long sigh bounced off the tiles.
"You sound tired and at a lost, prince."
Grey irises turned away from the water droplets splashing his face and met brown hues that matched the dark hair. "What do you want?"
A small, apologetic smile crossed the dark-haired man's lips. "Nothing. I'm just concerned."
The water was immediately shut off. He got out from under the showerhead and faced his childhood friend. "What for?"
Again, a small smile appeared. "Do not exhaust yourself with trivial matters. I know you are worried of that boy. And as for Pansy, I can understand that as well, but you shouldn't kill yourself over this, Draco."
Draco shook water out of his pale-blonde hair. "Leave me be, Zabini."
Blaise Zabini flinched slightly. It wasn't often that Draco Malfoy addressed him by his last name after so much time as friends. Draco would only use his last name when he was being stern with him, or else he was under a deal of stress. Blaise sighed inwardly and turned around and grabbed a towel for the blonde. He handed it to him and watched Draco wrap the towel around his waist.
Draco ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Blaise. "You don't have to worry about me, Blaise. I'm fine."
Blaise blinked before answering. "But with so many troubles on your mind? Draco, I know you. You've been going over the same questions since you left His room. ...Are you okay?"
Draco stared at the dark-haired man. It was a while before he finally nodded. "It is trouble. ...Do you remember that human I told you of?"
Blaise frowned, unsure of where this was heading. "Yes."
Draco shook his head and started walking toward the bathroom door. "He's the same human who saw Pansy a week ago."
Blaise followed the blonde out of the room and back to his chamber. "I see," he finally said when they were back in the blonde's room. "So... what are you going to do about it? Didn't you say that you might consider him..."
Draco disappeared into his closet and came back dressed in loose forest green pants and a cream colored long-sleeves shirt that exposed most of his shoulders. His towel was slung over his shoulders, preventing his shirt from getting wet from his wet hair.
Draco threw Blaise a look. "Perhaps, but if he really did see, I would have no choice but to kill him."
"Or you could turn him."
Draco gripped the towel around his shoulders. "That's not an option. He can only either be a slave, or dead. We cannot turn him."
"Then you would rather have him as a slave? I doubt you really want to kill him, Draco. He's been the most interesting to you so far. Not since--- "
A hiss escaped Draco's lips as he glared at the dark-haired man. "Don't you dare. That has long since passed and I will not make that mistake again."
Blaise laid a hand over his heart; it was an old sign used to show a person didn't mean any harm. He added an apologetic smile to emphasize his apology. "It still concerns me, Draconius."
Draco stared at his friend and sighed. Shaking his head, he pulled down his walls and sat down on the bed with Blaise. By the tone of Blaise's voice, Draco could tell he was serious. "All right. But what do you suggest I do with this problem?"
Blaise smiled slightly in return. "Well, assuming you don't want to kill the boy, you could always stalk him and lure him in and persuade him into being your slave. I mean--- it's the only other option you have."
Draco threw his friend a look and fell back onto the bed. He felt Blaise lie down beside him. When he looked to the corner of his vision, he saw the dark-haired man stretched out on his side, propping his head up on his elbow. "That did not help me, you know."
Blaise shrugged with one shoulder. "Well, this is all IF he saw. If he didn't, then you're fine. You can watch him all you like when he comes back to the club. Just better watch out for your father."
"Don't remind me." Draco rolled his eyes in a lazy manner before breaking into a grin, turning onto his side to face his friend. They stared at each other for a moment. Draco didn't know how to show his thanks too well, so he did the first thing that came to mind. Placing his hand on the mattress to support him, he leaned forward and kissed Blaise. (1)
Blaise's eyes widened. In all his years alive, Draco had never done something like this before. A thanks, he knew, was hard for the blonde, but they had gone as far as a small hug. A direct kiss on his lips was a really big leap for both Draco and him. So, when the blonde pulled back after what seemed eternity, Blaise couldn't think of anything to say.
Draco stared at him, expecting a response. It was the first he had done anything like that before. Well, maybe not kiss another boy, but certainly kissing his best friend since they were infants. When Blaise just stared back at him like a fish, he frowned.
Blaise took a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing. I- I'm just... surprised. You've never..."
Draco did the impossible and lowered his gaze. When he realized how uncharacteristic he was acting, he quickly composted himself by snorting and turning his back. "Well, don't expect anything like that again anythime soon."
Blaise nodded to Draco's back and stared down at the space between them. What could he expect after something like that? He licked his lips and smiled inwardly. It may not happen again, but he was happy it happened the first time.
(2) Harry tapped the erasure end of his pencil on his desk and rested his chin in his hand, propping his arm up on the corner of the desk. How long had it been since that incident at the park? Harry wished that Ron never took him out in the first place. He wanted to stay in his hole of solitude. But then again, if he hadn't met Ronald Weasley, he would never have met him.
Something bounced off his head and distracted him from his already faraway thoughts. Turning around, he spotted a crumpled up piece of paper in the middle of the isle. He glanced at the possibility of students who could have thrown it and almost immediately saw Ron flashing him a smile and a 'V' sign with his index and middle fingers. Harry frowned at his best friend and quickly stanched up the piece of paper before the teacher looked his way. As quietly as he could, he unraveled the paper and read the hastily scrawled note.
You've been staring at the front of the classroom for nearly 20 min. now, right? I bet I know what you're thinking about. Haha! It's Mr. What's-his-name, right? Jeez, Harry, grab a girlfriend, why don't you? That brunette at the club seemed pretty cute, if not for the fact she looked kinda like a whore. (Heh.) Oh, hey, did you want to go back to the club sometime? You can meet Prince Mysterious and Pompous again and I can go tangle with the women you just seem to attract by existing. Heck, you're a babe magnet, Harry! (As they say in movies.) Your whole dark aura crap draws them in! Whoo! We gotta go back sometime. Ya never know; girls might start becoming attracted to my red hair!
Let's march over to your house after school. We can go clubbing tonight!
Harry rolled his eyes inwardly and crumpled the paper again as he threw a look at the redhead. He shoved the note inside his desk and tried to get back to work on his test. It was hard; every time he couldn't think of an answer, his mind would go wandering to a certain blonde. He hadn't seen him for four weeks when he first went to the club. The following days afterwards he couldn't bring himself to go back. Either he was very busy, or couldn't sum up enough courage to go, even by himself. Ron wanted them to go back. Harry didn't know if he could. Since the incident behind the corner store, he avoided going out, especially by himself. He didn't want to run into those creeps again. He sighed and shook his head. Once again, he tried to get back to work.
After school, Harry snagged his things from his locker and waited under a tree by the parking lot, nearest to where Ron's assigned student parking spot was. The day was exceptionally bright, and even though he was under the shade of the tree, Harry had to put a hand over his eyes and wait while they adjusted. He blinked a few times, and by the fifth blink, a certain redhead filled his vision. Harry took a step back and cast his best friend an annoyed look.
"Ready to go?" Ron chirped with a grin. He turned around halfway and held out his arm to Harry as if he expected the black-haired boy to take it like a girl being led to her prom.
Harry smacked the arm away. "Just walk."
Ron grinned again and dropped his arm, leading the way to where his car was parked. They climbed in and Ron drove to Harry's house. Harry pulled out a key and let them in, not bothering to state his appearance to his relatives. They trudged up the stairs, skipped the steps that squeaked, and holed up in Harry's room. Harry threw his things on the bed while Ron disposed of his bags at the foot of the bed on the wooden trunk. The redhead sat on the edge of the bed and waited as his friend stripped of his outer shirt and un-looped his belt. His hung his shirt on the back of his desk chair, and wound up his belt and placed it on his desk. His pants now hung from his hips instead of just below his waist as the dress code required. He flopped down onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, pushing his things to the side with his foot.
"So, what's this about going clubbing?"
Ron tilted his head to the side and shrugged with one shoulder. "We haven't been there in four weeks, and since then you've been zoning out and acting paranoid. Well, you've been acting paranoid since last week, but still. We should go back to the club. Maybe we'll see the son again." He paused to shudder. "I don't want to meet that father again, though. Guy's a creep."
Harry snorted. "And why should I go, now?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "C'mon. Why wouldn't you? You went the first time, so why not again. Like I said, you could go see Prince Mysterious and Pompous again and have a drink and get married and have a bunch of kids running around your house on the countryside and live happily ever after. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever the bloody hell you want. You just gotta go, Harry! I'm commanding you. If you don't come with me, then I'll kidnap you or... uh, make you wear PINK and then drag you to the club!"
As much as the sound of wearing pink clothing horrified Harry, he had enough sense to rule that torment out. "Ron, the place only allows dark clothing."
Shot down but not out. Ron quickly thought of a replacement. "Well, then, I'll make you wear pink at school! It'll last for a week! I have a younger sister, and since you're so damn skinny, you'll probably fit into her clothes."
"I resent that," Harry snorted. "And no thank you. I'd rather do without the nightmares. Jeez, Ron, I'll go with you, but I don't see why."
Ron flashed him a smile. "Why, mate, it's all for your own good, of course. I'm just helping you out."
Harry immediately saw through his best friend's falsity and rolled his head. "Sure."
Ron rubbed his hands together. "Now, we have a lot of time to spare, so let's start cracking."
"Ron, we need to finish our homework," Harry stated as-a-matter-of-factly. He disliked homework and the assignments he was put through, but he still did them as best as he could, and FIRST before anything else. It wasn't like he had anything else to do whenever Ron wasn't dragging him all over the place.
Ron gave the black-haired boy a look that meant, "What else would I be talking about?" and said, "Well, of course I was talking about homework! What else?"
Once again, Harry knew that Ron hated homework like the plague and wouldn't touch it if unless Harry was there to make sure he did it. Shaking his head, Harry drew his things toward him and pulled out the supplies he needed to do his homework. He checked the clock before he began and frowned, knowing it was going to be a long night.
Ron and Harry pulled up to the parking space before Blood Fest and climbed out of the car. Harry tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to force it down. He couldn't believe Ron made him wear this trash. He was dressed in loose, but hip riding black pants, his fashion boots, and a fitted black shirt with sleeves and reached just above his elbow. The shirt was a bit small for him, and even though it was fitted, the bottom kept riding up to expose his navel. His pants weren't helping to fix this problem either, thanks to Ron's "handy and expert picking." Ron made sure Harry showed a bit of skin and couldn't so anything to hide himself besides cross his arms over his stomach (which would look so awkward and weird that it would probably attract more attention that way). Not to mention how Harry's skin sparkled strangely whenever he crossed a light on their way to the front of the line. Ron stole a make-up product from his sister, Ginny, that was meant for the stage. Ron, having been a make-up victim of his sister when they were younger, knew how to properly apply the product to Harry's skin so that he didn't look too terribly pale under the neon lights of the club. And under normal lamplights and streetlights, he glowed. His eyes, which already glowed like a cat's at night, radiated tonight. Harry didn't like it, nor the fact that all the people he passed stared at him, but he couldn't hide while Ron had hold of his arm and was practically hauling him into the club. When they passed the bouncers, one eyed Harry and quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed and naked. (Hell, he might as well have been with all the pairs of eyes landing on him.)
Harry ran a hand through his ever-messy hair and puffed as his bangs semi-curtained his eyes. He let Ron drag him past the dance floor and up the stairs to the second floor. Ron left him for the bar and Harry was able to slide along the wall and stay away from the action and all the raunchy dancing that scared him half to death. When Harry found a large enough blank spot on the wall, he stuck to it like a fly to flypaper. He crossed his arms over his stomach as best he could and kept an eye out for any drunks who might wander his way and mistake him for a bedmate. He shuddered at the thought and pressed his back against the wall, half hoping it would eat him or make him invisible. It didn't really work, because whenever someone would pass him, they would either stop and stare, or look over their shoulder as they continued to walk by. He didn't like the stares or the attention.
With a sigh, Harry watched the dancing lights that bounced off the peoples' bodies, sometimes changing their skin or hair a different color. He was memorized by the different patterns dancing off the people and walls, off the floor and ceiling. The dance, though not exactly the most appealing thing in the world, was nearly hypnotic. Harry felt his eyes droop a bit as he lost himself in the music and rhythm.
"Ah, Harry was your name, wasn't it?" a voice suddenly broke through to him.
Harry quickly turned to see a familiar blonde standing near him, smiling with his mouth closed again. "Uh, yeah. Draco, right?"
The blonde nodded. "Surprised to see you here again. Usually I don't remember all the names and faces of my guests since they always bring in new friends and sometimes disappear for a while before coming back. I only recognize my regulars and workers, really. So, you're back. Can I take it you like it here?" he quickly changed the subject.
Harry blinked. He looked around to try and find something to comment on. "Um. The music is really hypnotic, and the light patterns are really interesting." Harry smacked himself inwardly for saying such a stupid thing.
Draco didn't seem to find anything amiss and nodded. "Yes. You can thank the DJ for that. He works on the first floor, but if you pass by him, tell him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it. He might have on headphones, though. He doesn't like loud music, yet he's working the sound system." He chuckled at the irony and smiled.
Harry smiled back a bit. "Sure."
They stood there for a moment before Draco struck up the conversation again. "How about I treat you to a drink?"
Harry blinked. "Uh, no thanks. I don't drink. I have to stay sober for the ride home because I know my friend won't be."
Draco smiled again. "Don't worry, we can call you a cab to drive the two of you home and get someone to tow your vehicle wherever it needs to be. And if you're that worried about alcohol, I can have the bartender fix something up that's nonalcoholic, if you'd like."
Harry hesitantly nodded. If it had been someone else, he admitted to himself, he wouldn't have agreed. But it was Draco, and the blonde just had a strong sense of persuasion about him that Harry couldn't resist too well. Draco seemed pleased by his answer and gently took Harry by the elbow and led him back to the bar. They climbed over the metal rod and walked up to the bar.
Draco beckoned the bartender forward and grinned at him. "I'll take a Sanguisuga." (3)
The bartender widened his eyes and creased his brow in confusion. The Sanguisuga was a rare and special kind of drink. Whenever Draco ordered on, it was on a really special occasion. He looked over the blonde's shoulder to see the black-haired boy whom ducked his head. He looked him up and down and was intrigued. With a chuckle, the bartender nodded and turned back around to prepare the drink. When the other man left, Draco turned back to Harry and leaned against the bar table as he waited for the bartender to return. (4)
When the bartender came back with a fine glass of deep red liquid, he gave it to Draco who held it up in the dancing lights. The lights danced around the crystal, but didn't penetrate the liquid, for some odd reason. Harry was starting to doubt if he should drink the substance.
"The Sanguisuga is a deep red, darker and more rich than the Red Sea Moses parted to lead the slaves of Egypt across. People go through great trouble to obtain this drink, but very few are allowed to even see the bottle it's held in." Draco smiled as his eyes landed on Harry's. "It's very special. Not even money or death can persuade a seller into giving it away."
Harry glanced at the glass. "It's that great?" He shook his head and held up a hand to decline. "I can't take it, then. You can't spend your best wine, or beer, or whatever that is, on me. I don't deserve it as a 'treat'."
Draco lifted a brow. "A 'beer'? Harry, you must be kidding me. The Sanguisuga is not just any drink. It's the heaven (or hell, if you prefer) of all drinks. It does not fall under any category other than 'sinful delicacies.' It is like Godiva chocolate, or diamonds and gold; it's actually far better than even that! Please, I must insist. It is rare to get a glass of this, and I insist that you at least try some. Do not worry, my family is worthy of having a whole vat of it, so there is plenty to spare. Try some."
By now Draco had pushed the glass into Harry's raised hand and closed his fingers around it. Harry had no choice but to accept the glass and hold onto it or else drop it because Draco had let go almost immediately. Harry stared down at the dark liquid. In his shadow, it looked nearly black. He looked up at Draco and saw the anticipating look in his eyes that just begged for Harry to try it. Harry shook his head mentally and lifted the glass to his lips. The glass was cold, but the liquid it held was... lukewarm? Warm? There was no word for it. If Harry hadn't cut himself and bit his lip before, he would have guessed that it was blood. But the Sanguisuga was thinner than blood, and far less metal tasting.
Draco smiled fully when Harry took a gulp of the drink. He quickly pressed his lips together before the boy looked back up again. When he did, he took the cup from him and tok note of the strange look in his eyes. How amazing this creature looked in the dancing light of his club and after a taste of the Sanguisuga. Magnificent...
Draco took Harry by the arm and gently led him away from the bar, casting a certain look over his shoulder to the bartender who took the glass and rolled his eyes in response. There was hardly a doubt as to what Draconius was about to do... But would it be slightly different from the last human boy? Who knew...
AN: Yes, that's it! That's my chapter. A lot of surprises, no? I'm having some trouble keeping characters in order due to my bad vibe in writing, but I hope they're all still okay. Well, maybe except Harry (stupid --- yet lovely --- outcast boy), but other than that everyone should still be okay. Tell me if something's amiss. Or do you like the strangeness? Comments are supa' good!
1) Fwee! Are there any Draco/Blaise lovers out there? Ooh--- what do you say? Do you like that snip? It gave me the jitters just writing it! Please, if anyone enjoys sudden changes (in pace, in slash--- anything!) and adores my twists every now and then, please tell me so! I oh-so love encouragement and lovely, lovely reviews!
2) I'll have you know that this is the next day. Not the same day. Gotta follow day and logic-ness, of course. (But that obviously didn't happen when I thought of the whole "let's have a bar on the SECOND FLOOR so drunks can FALL DOWN THE STAIRS!!" thing. ...Eheh.)
3) Really, this name comes from the Triatoma Sanguisuga that's translated as the "assassin bug." Certainly not a drink, I'll say, but if you think about it, the name could work, right? (Uh, probably not, but who cares? I say it makes sense and that's that! Mleh!)
4) Hush! I am club/bar illiterate! I'm not even old enough to go into a bar! And I wouldn't want to anyway. I have no business there and I probably wouldn't have time to anyway with the way my life works. Meh. Anyway, if I ever say something stupidly wrong about a club or whatever, please correct me if you wish, because I wouldn't know the difference even if it came and ran me over.
PS: Ah, and yes! I almost forgot! Thanks a bunch to all my reviewers who helped me with Pansy's and Blaise's name. It made things a lot easier for me and typing more enjoyable. Encouraging and helpful reviews like that always remind me of how much my readers care. huggles fans and gives a big pack of Pocky