Disclaimer: JK Rowling
Disclaimer: JK Rowling

A/N: Originally I wasn't going to do another chapter to this story. But I got inspired, and felt there were a few things left to explain (like why Ginny can walk in the sunlight) so here is the second part. This is all to the entire story, and the ending shan't be too dreary.

Bold = thoughts, book text, and exaggerated words

Chapter Two A Vampire Temptress

Ginny loosened her grip on Harry's head, and he fell back onto the floor lifelessly. She stared down at him, no guilt or sadness etched on her gorgeous face. In fact, she was smiling, and licked a dribble of blood from underneath her bottom lip.

    "I did you a favor, Harry," she whispered, her eyes glowing with a surreal light. "Now you won't hurt any more poor innocent girls, like the one I used to be."

    Laughing, she jumped and danced around the room gracefully, feeling a sense of energy from the blood she had just consumed. There was no thirst bothering her anymore – she was free, just her and her powers.

    Nothing could stop her! She stopped moving, panting slightly, and racked her brain for the information on vampires she had acquired over her past few years of Defense Against Dark Arts.

    For one thing, sunlight couldn't kill her. Vampires could survive sunlight, it just hurt their eyes and they preferred the night, where they could slink around, unnoticed. Since Ginny was officially dead, she didn't need sleep. The one thing she needed was blood. That was all.

    Crosses wouldn't do anything to her skin. She wasn't sure how that belief got started, but it sure was far from the truth.

    There was only one way to stop a vampire – and that was to chop of their head. A stake through the heart would merely puncture a hole in their chest. If they didn't use their heart, then why would a hole in it stop them from walking like the living?

    Some of Ginny's happiness faded a bit when she remembered something else. Vampires also needed a mate. Not someone to produce offspring with, but someone to be their partner in hunting.

    Ginny struggled to remember her lessons on vampires. How stupid she felt not knowing everything about what she was!

    In her frustrations, her eyes fell on Harry's body again. If someone came in, they'd catch her in the same room with him and know she somehow killed him. She needed to get out. While she waited for someone to find him dead, she'd research about her own kind.

    She took her robes from the top of the desk and put them back on. Then she carefully stepped over Harry's body, blew him one final kiss, and shut the door firmly behind her.

    First she needed to go into the bathroom to see if she was clean of any blood. When she found just a few splatters on her T-shirt under her robes, she fixed it quickly then hurried down to breakfast. She would need to tell Ron and Hermione something so they wouldn't say she was the last one with Harry.

    "Where's Harry?" Hermione asked suspiciously as Ginny sat down at her usual spot.

    Ginny put on a hurt face. "I don't know," she said quietly, adding a sniff for effect. "We got into a fight and he stormed off somewhere . . ."

    "Well, I guess he'll need some time to calm down," Ron said nonchalantly, putting eggs into his mouth. "He should be back soon."

    Hermione nodded, but still looked troubled.

    Ginny didn't eat anything. The sight of the food revolted her. But she couldn't help but notice necks. It seemed her eyes were drawn like magnets to the throats of the people at her table, and she had the strongest urge to grab them by the head and bite into them. Surprisingly, Harry's blood seemed to be thinning and she was starting to feel thirsty again.

    Afterwards, she excused herself. Since it was a Saturday, thankfully, there wasn't anywhere she had to be, so she headed straight to the library. While the librarian was busy scolding a bunch of first years being too noisy, Ginny crept to the Restricted Section and grabbed the first book on vampires she could. Then she hurried to a table to sit down and read, all without being noticed.

    She scanned the table of contents and then flipped to the chapter called Vampires and Their Mates. She quickly read the beginning.

    No one is quite sure why, but vampires need a mate before they reach the age of seventeen. If someone is made a vampire after that age, then they have one year to find a member of the opposite sex in which to "initiate." The use of this mate is not to produce children, since vampires are not alive and cannot form a living thing, but to always have a partner. Some researchers believe this is because deep down vampires are lonely and don't like the thought of living for eternity by themselves. Others aren't sure. But either way, if a vampire does not have a mate by seventeen, they shrivel up into nothing and die. It's a proven, though unexplainable, fact.

    There is an exception when a vampire finds a mate: the victim has to be willing. If they aren't, then it is impossible for them to be made into a vampire. Unfortunately, the vampire will just probably kill them if they don't agree, but being dead is better than staying on earth forever and hunting the living.

    Ginny slammed the book shut. That was all she needed to know.

    She would be seventeen that summer. So she had time . . . but who would she chose to be her mate? Better yet, who would be willing? No one she knew would want to be a vampire. Perhaps if she had known sooner, she could've made Harry one . . . but it was too late now.

    Ginny quickly thought of all the boys she knew. Most of them were too nice – they would be horrified at the thought of surviving off human blood. Hell, twenty-four hours ago she would've been revolted by it. That man who had made her into what she was . . . he had been clever. He had took advantage of her and had made her willing, even though she hadn't known what she was being willing for.

    She could turn on the charm for some boys, but how would she be as smooth and witty about asking them to be a vampire? All sorts of phrases ran through her mind, and she tried to think of putting them in a situation like the one she had been in the night before. But there was no way around it – the only way she could make them willing was to ask them straight out if they wanted to become a vampire. She needed to find someone who wanted to be one.

    Why didn't that man make me his mate last night? Ginny thought, angry. But the answer was simple – he probably already had one. Perhaps he just went around making vulnerable girls into vampires all the time when he really didn't need them. He probably just did it for fun.

    Of course, she had a few months. She could wait and see if fate was on her side and brought her a man that was willing to become a vampire, or who would be easy to take advantage of and convince him what a wonderful life he could have with her.

    Just then, movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked up to see Draco Malfoy sitting down three tables from her, completely absorbed in his books and not even glancing at her. 

    A slow smile spread over her face. He was handsome, maybe even more so than Harry. He had fine, white blond hair that was constantly falling into his cold gray eyes. And he was a bit more muscle toned than Harry was, and slightly taller, too.

    Draco Malfoy, she thought carefully. His father is a Death Eater . . . he will probably have to become one when he gets older. Now there is a situation I can take advantage of.

    Ginny stood up. Besides, she told herself, he does seem like the type who would want to be a vampire just for the hell of it, doesn't he?

Filch found Harry's body later that night. By breakfast the next morning everybody knew – the Boy Who Lived was now dead.

    Mostly all of the Gryffindors were upset, but the looks on Hermione and Ron's faces almost made Ginny feel guilty for what she'd done.


    There were many rumors going around the school of how he died. Ginny heard people whisper that Voldemort had gotten past Dumbledore's defenses and had murdered him. Finally, at lunch, Dumbledore announced that Harry had been killed by a vampire.

    "A vampire?" Ron hissed, his eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed from crying all day. "Harry can survive the greatest wizard of all repeatedly, but he is killed by a vampire?"

    Hermione just put her head down on the table and sobbed.

    Ginny felt annoyed that he underestimated her power. Did Voldemort have sex appeal? No. Harry's hormones had been his undoing.

    She had to force herself and cry with everyone else. On Monday classes were canceled and there was a huge funeral outside near the lake. It was a cold, dreary day with dark clouds and a drizzle. Over the distant rolls of thunder everyone could hear Hagrid crying incredibly loudly, blowing his nose that sounded like a foghorn into a large hankie.

    Everyone around her was too wrapped up in his or her own misery to acknowledge her. Ginny scowled and was glad for the rain so no one could tell if she was crying or not.

    This would be the perfect time to lure Draco up to the castle, she thought. No one will be there. We'll have the dormitories to ourselves for at least an hour, and that's all the time I'll need.

    She quickly looked for his silver hair, standing on tiptoes to see above peoples' heads. Finally, she found him, even though he wore a hood over his hair and was standing slightly apart from the Slytherins. Ginny couldn't read his expression but it was quite obvious he was more shocked than sad.

    Trying to cover her grin, Ginny slipped into the back of the crowd and made her way around to him. Dumbledore was making a speech about Harry now, and she was slightly glad for Hagrid's loud crying.

    Ginny tugged on Draco's sleeve. "Draco," she hissed.

    He turned and saw her, his gray eyes barely widening in surprise. "Weasley?" he drawled, uninterested. "Since when do you have permission to use my first name?"

    Ginny smiled seductively at him. "Since now," she whispered. "Come on, it's freezing out here." She was lying – the cold didn't bother her at all. "Come inside and warm up with me."

    "You want to miss your beloved Potter's funeral?" he asked, slightly more surprised then before. "I expected you to be crying louder than that fool Hagrid right now."

    "Oh, are you trying to tell me you want to stay and hear all the great things Harry has ever done?" Ginny snapped, knowing that would make him move.

    He blinked. "Are you kidding? I would rather go inside with you then stay out here and listen to this crap."

    "Then come on."

    Holding onto his wrist, she led him away from the crowd. No one even noticed them slipping away back into the castle. When they got inside, Ginny calmly brushed the rainwater off her cloak.

    "I hate being wet, don't you?" she asked, shaking out her hair. She nearly laughed in delight when she saw him from the corner of her eye staring at her body. She had purposely chosen the tightest cloak she could find that would show every curve she had, to show that she wasn't a child anymore.

    "I have a feeling," he said, sounding annoyed and yet a little gruff at the same time, "that you brought me in here for a reason. I don't think you wanted to save me from hearing all the goodness Potter brought into the world, do you?"

    She grinned at him. "Very good, Draco," she said.

    "Don't call me –" he started through clenched teeth.

    "Come," she said, grabbing his hand with hers. "Let's go to my dormitory. Or would you prefer yours?"

    Draco stared at her for an instant before yanking his hand back. "Okay, what's going on, Weasley? First you want to miss Potter's funeral, and now you want me in your dormitory? This is some kind of plot, isn't it? What, you think I was born yesterday? I'm not falling for it."

    Ginny frowned. This was going to be a bit more difficult then she expected. Harry had been so simple, but Draco would be a challenge.

    "There is no 'plot'," she purred, rubbing her body against his. "I just want you, Draco. It took me a while to realize it . . . but I do. Since everyone is out for Harry's funeral we'll have the whole school to ourselves."

    Ginny could've sworn she saw something close to lust in his storm-colored eyes before he pushed her away. "A lot of girls want me, Weasley. That doesn't mean I want them."

    Damn! she thought. This might take longer than an hour!

    So she just went for the punch. Grabbing the front of robes she pressed her lips firmly against his. She felt him trying to undo her grip on his clothes, but she held on fast. He didn't respond to her kiss, but he didn't pull away either. Even so, Ginny found pleasure of the warmth of his lips, and she tried her best to get them apart with her tongue.

    Finally, he stopped trying to get her to let go of him. It took another second or two before he started to return her kiss, his hands going to her waist and pulling her closer.

    Ginny grinned into his mouth and kissed him harder. He kissed her just as fiercely, and didn't put up resistance as she pushed him hard against the wall. She could feel his heart beating against her, and the sound drove her mad, knowing that blood was coursing through his veins at that very moment. She hadn't eaten since Harry's death – she was close to starving. Her mouth left his and she began to trail kissing down off his chin to his neck. She could feel the flutter of his pulse under her lips and her fangs grew. She needed blood – now.

    Just when she was about to plunge them into his neck, he said, "Wait."

    The sound of his voice snapped her out of her frenzy. She closed her mouth and pulled her head away, thankful he had stopped her. She hadn't made him willing yet – she would've ended up killing her potential mate.

    She stepped away from him, trying to get the thought of his blood out of her mind so teeth would shrink to normal.

    "We should finish this in the dormitory," Draco said.

    She nodded. "Mine," she told him simply, making sure her upper lip protected her sharp teeth from sight.

    It was odd to see the common room empty, but Ginny was so set on getting Draco into her dormitory she didn't pay it much mind. No sooner had she shut the door behind them did she turn and begin to kiss Draco once more. This time he responded instantly.

    They backed up until the back of Ginny's legs touched a bed – whose bed, she didn't know, but it didn't matter. Draco pushed her back down onto it, coming on top of her. He pinned her wrists above her and began to kiss down her neck and around her collarbone.

    "Nothing can come of this, Weasley," he said a little breathlessly.

    Ginny grinned up to the ceiling. "Of course not Draco."

    Now, a voice in her head told her. He'll be willing now.

    With a sudden burst of strength, Ginny flipped them around so she was now on top of him, holding his wrists down on the bed. He stared up at her, his eyes wide. "Where did that come from, Weasley?" he sneered.

    "Draco, I'm going to ask you a question," she said softly, keeping her eyes glued to his. If she looked down, down at his throat, she knew her teeth would grow again, and she didn't want that just yet. "You never liked Harry, did you?"

    He stared at her for a moment, not expecting such an inquiry. "Of course not. The prat had everything when he practically did nothing. Just had a bunch of luck on his side and everyone thought he was this great hero. Why would I like him?"

    "Then you wouldn't mind that I killed him," she said, slowly grinning.

    "What? You killed Harry Potter? Weasley, I'm not daft. They said it was a vampire who killed him."

    Ginny allowed herself to think of his blood, her eyes traveling down his pale neck, and could feel her fangs grow. Still grinning, she returned her gaze to meet his, and saw his pupils dilated with disbelief, though he sneered.

    "Well, I would've never thought it was you," he said. "I always thought you had a big conscience, not to mention I thought you loved Potter more than anything."

    Ginny leaned down and trailed her tongue along the base of his throat. "Let's not talk about Harry," she said huskily. "It's you I want to talk about."

    "Me?" She felt him shift slightly under her. "What about me?"

    "I need a mate, Draco," she said, lifting her head so she could look down at him once more. "Being a vampire really is quite wonderful. You have all the power in the world. You're nearly invincible. And the blood . . . oh, Draco, that's the best part."

    He kept his expression unreadable, but she saw conflict in his eyes. "You want to make me a vampire," he said simply.

    "Correct," she whispered, brushing her lips across his cheek. "If not, then I'll have to kill you. Like I did Harry. And I will find as much – no, more – joy in killing you then when I did him."

    That got to him. He began to thrash underneath her, trying to throw her off. But she just laughed, enjoying his attempts to get free.

    "Damn it, Weasley, get off of me!" he screamed, finally going still.

    "No use for language, Draco," she said sweetly. "I would gladly get off you if you say you'll become a vampire with me."

    "Fine. Fine, you can make me a vampire. Now get off me."

    Ginny didn't move. He had said it, but did it mean he meant it? Did the victim have to be more willing then saying something? She could tell he didn't mean what he said. To be on the safe side, she would have to try and convince him otherwise.

    She leaned down and kissed him again. He kept his lips sealed tight, and she felt him clench his hands into fists. She kept working, trying desperately to get some sort of response. Finally, after a full minute, his mouth softened, yet he still didn't respond. She could feel his skin heating beneath her, could tell there was a struggle going on in his head to resist and to just give up and kiss her back. How come he was so hard to get through to?

    We're running out of time, Ginny thought. Damn you, Draco, kiss me back!

    As if he heard her command, he finally began to move his lips. The kiss was deep, full of heat and passion, and Ginny found herself reluctant to pull away and attempt to make him willing again. But she had to, because soon the funeral would be breaking up or someone would notice she was missing. She lifted her head up and stared down at Draco, who kept his eyes sealed shut.

    "Just do it, Weasley," he said, turning his head to the side to expose his neck. "Quick."

    She didn't need to be told twice. He was willing, that much was clear. Once more she plunged her head down and sunk her fangs into the soft flesh of his neck. His muscles tightened beneath her from the pain, but he didn't make a noise. After a few minutes he went slack.

    Ginny wasn't sure how she knew the difference between killing someone and making them a vampire. She just did. It was gut instinct. When she finally finished, she relaxed her grip on his wrists and sat up. He was unconscious, and would be for quite a while. But the soft rise and fall of his chest showed Ginny that she had accomplished what she wanted.

     And she finally felt something besides ruthless power. She felt something she had often experienced back when she had been human. It was a softer emotion . . . she couldn't quite tell, but it was a mixture between compassion and love.


Draco woke up about five hours later, still in the Gryffindor sixth-year-dormitory. He was now in Ginny's bed, and Ginny had made sure the curtains had stayed closed when she went to rejoin the funeral.

    But she was sitting right beside him when he opened his eyes, and she was the first thing he saw. She smiled gently at him, and there wasn't just coldness in her dark brown eyes.

    "It worked?" he croaked, his voice still thick with sleep.

    "Yes," she said, and kissed him softly on the lips. "It worked."

     And suddenly, being a vampire didn't seem so bad. At least he'd have Ginny Weasley by his side for the rest of eternity.

A/N: There, now they can adopt kids and make them little vampire people and have one huge vampire family! Yay!! Draco and Ginny forever!

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