Harry Potter 1. History Lessons

**Attention: Character change! I took the liberty of changing a side character, Blaise Zabini into a black/Mediterranean with a dash of irish descent. I am fully aware the original character is very different but this is a fanfiction, he's not canon and I took the liberty of changing him, essentially making him into an original character since the original Blaise was never fully developed. Thank you!**

Dark Angelus: A discourse in the viscosity of Blood

Some believe that one should never betray your own family. Family is the only thing in this world that sticks with you. Your parents are the ones who brought you into this world and they are the ones that raised you. The blood ties of family was once very strong in Draco Malfoy's family. Past the bitterness of war and the horrors of being a Deatheater, the Malfoys stood strong and together. Then something happened and it all got twisted in the mess.

Hogwarts: History Lessons

Touch sends an electric current running from the spot being touched, straight to the brain like a heavy shock drilled into the senses, awakening different reactions in the body. A soft, light touch produces a low reaction that spreads out, lingers while a sharp prick of pain against say the neck produces another abrupt reaction entirely. Draco sat bouncing his knee in class, desperately trying to focus on the front of the class room where the very thoroughly dead history teacher, Prof. Binns was droning on about some great useless battle during the dark ages. He glanced around the room for what seemed to him like the billionth time, trying not to look at the clock hanging above the door. Blaise nudged his elbow, he looked down on his nails digging into his flesh. Blood was starting to puddle around the tips, he instantly let go of his arm, ripping down his sleeve and started tapping the nub of his quill against the wood desk, it made a light scratching sound as it hit, barely perceptible above Binns' monotone. He glanced back at the 'golden trio' who were whispering heatedly back and forth to each other. He felt a snarl descend over his face but turned back around when he felt the overwhelming emotions rise to the surface once again. The Boy Who Should Die a Horrible Fucking Death because he didn't have the right to be so lucky or pretty, oh, not to mention the fact that he had all the attention while Draco was nothing more than dog meat on a spit. The three Gryffindorks were nothing more than a distraction to him in all actuality. A way to get his mind off of other things, darker things.

The dismissal bell had much of the same effect as a gunshot before a race. The room was cleared in less than thirty seconds. Blaise had hold of Draco's arm as soon as they cleared the classroom. The short rust red head yanked him down a side corridor, away from the milling student body and threw him into an empty classroom. Draco's fellow Slytherin and best friend since they were born, paced before him, a look of deep thought on his round, gorgeous face. Draco looked away from the baby soft look of Blaise's face, throwing himself to the window and looked down onto the green, lush grounds below.

"You could…you know…I mean, you know-" Blaise stuttered out behind him.

"No, no," Draco shook his head, his eyes fixedly unfocused on the green and blue blur before him. "I'll deal with this on my own," Draco hissed as he turned and pushed past his friend, disappearing out the door. Blaise took a deep breathe and then sighed, he would have to do something drastic pretty soon but he didn't really want to know what that was.

"Are you around?" Draco knocked on Snape's door to his office later that night after dinner.

"Draco? What can I help you with?" A very sincere and real look of concern on Snape's more than pale features as he opened the door.

"I can sense them, I can't figure out where they are though," Draco burst out, collapsing onto a near by seat.

"Here? In Hogwarts?" Snape asked, laying his hand on Draco's arm.

"Yes," Draco looked up into his most trusted mentor.

"Oh dear," Snape murmured, a frown falling over his face.

"Vampyrs are here," Draco growled, his voice leaving no room for argument.


	2. Sordid

Draco looked around the Great Hall with Snape next to him as he glossed over face after young face. He kept wanting to run, he wasn't ready, he knew he wasn't ready. He didn't want to become his father, a man so torn by duty, family and evil that he was a twisted shell of the man Draco once knew. Lucius had hidden so much from his family, including the fact that he was a three hundred year old half vampyr. It was rumored that Draco wasn't entirely human, he was too ethereal looking, he could even be part veela. Vampyrs maybe a distant cousin from the harpy like beauties but his father was something more ambitious and dangerous.

All vampyrs have one thing in mind, to keep themselves alive so it stood to reason that they should keep their identities a secret, that being said, they must lead normal lives. Lucius' mother was a vampyr, his father a wealthy noble pureblood wizard. His father or in Draco's case grand father, needed no, he demanded an heir from his beloved, gorgeous wife. She pulled a lot of strings to get the right spell and Lucius was born.

"Well?" Snape hissed impatiently.

"There's too many distractions, I can feel so many different energies," Draco replied distractedly. The Malfoy's weren't the only wizarding family to have magical creature blood in their family.

"We don't have time before I have to join the others at the front table," Snape worriedly glanced at the gathering professors.

"Go, we won't find them tonight," Draco replied, walking into the Great Hall and taking his seat across from Blaise and next to Pansy.

"Them?" Snape breathed, a sinking sensation beginning in his gut.

~~~!~~~

Draco sat rocking on the battlement of the astrology tower. He felt the hunger pains coursing through his body as the wind blasted his platinum locks away from his face. He felt like he wanted to die, he felt more than cursed, he felt betrayed. The feeling never went away. His father had told him that he would live for a very long time and that he didn't have to worry about disease or about being weak. He could do anything but his father never mentioned the pain, about the cravings, about the never ending hunger. Snape tried to help with different potions but because he wasn't a full vampyr, they never really worked. He didn't need blood but it was still there, eating away at the back of his skull, constantly making itself known. He couldn't get close to anyone, the touch of another person on his bare skin brought him near to convulsions at times, other times it was a shock straight to his brain that left him blinded. He wanted to rip his spinal cord from his body and beat his grandmother with it but she had been murdered a long time ago during some misguided witch hunt.

"Thought you would be up here," Blaise murmured as he opened the hatch and climbed up.

"This isn't the time to be around me, you know that," Draco breathed, trying to keep himself still.

"I wish you would trust me," Blaise said, standing next to him.

"I do but I don't want to put you in danger…don't want to kill you," Draco glanced up at his childhood friend.

"I know you better than that, I think you have more strength than what you give yourself credit for," Blaise smirked.

"I've been such a fool, thinking only about how great it'll be to become this all powerful vampyr, they don't tell you about the costs," Draco replied. He had been a sniveling, self centered brat until he turned 17 and his vampyr blood came to age within him. He had brute strength but crippling hunger pangs.

"There's something that's been bothering you lately besides the blood," Blaise observed.

"I think it's because Dumbledore is dead, I think the vampyrs have come to Hogwarts. I can smell them, they're dead corpses and I can sense them, they don't try to even hide themselves," Draco breathed, looking off into the darkness. To think he had once been afraid of it, now he was something that went bump in the night.

"That is bad," Blaise replied, Draco buried his chin into his knees again.

"Leave me, I just need time to think this out," Draco looked pleadingly up at his friend who finally nodded and left. His father was once called the Dark Angelus and had lived to kill The Blood Clan, vampyrs who hunted without reason or conscious, demons all of them. Now his father had become one of them, he had given into the darkness and it fell on Draco to be the next Dark Angelus. He wanted to shoot a bullet through his own cursed heart. He sighed and got up, turning and walking back down the way he came. He stopped at the sound of voices arguing. He peered into an empty classroom where Harry and Hermione were shouting back and forth while Ron lurked in the background.

"I don't think you need to put yourself in that kind of danger," Hermione screamed.

"I'm the only one who can do it, you know this 'Mione," Harry protested, desperately trying to make her understand.

"You have to be careful, don't go looking for more than you can handle is all I'm saying," she growled back, Draco moved on. They had no idea about evil. They played war with a madman. In the end, Voldemort was just another mortal, Draco had bigger problems.

He made it to his dorm, he was named Head Boy along with Hermione as Head Girl. He was the smartest even if it didn't show all that much. He collapsed onto his bed and tried to contemplate his next move. The vampyrs were looking for something and he almost didn't care. He just wanted to be normal, like he had been. Be a wealthy pureblood with wealthy pureblood problems, not this, anything but this. A long life of killing, hunting for a cause he really didn't believe in. The world was a big place out past the Forbidden Forest while his life was small like a bubble, what did he care of vamps taking over, he had a leg up on all the rest of the cattle around him.

The sun slammed into his eyelids. He groaned and rolled over, not wanting to get up just yet. He felt hands cup his face. He breathed in deep, feeling completely at peace as fingertips ran over his cheeks comfortingly. He blinked open his eyes to an empty room, he started to panic, sitting up as the feeling disintegrated around him. He walked numbly to the bathroom, to look into the mirror.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed, hurriedly covering herself with her towel, she looked just about ready to get into the shower.

"Sorry," He mumbled and made to leave.

"Nice hicky by the way," Hermione smirked at him, he frowned and turned back to the mirror. A bruise ringed two puncture wounds on his upper neck, right underneath his left ear.

"Fuck me," he breathed and walked out, slamming the bathroom door behind him. He didn't want to admit Hermione looked gorgeous in just a fluffy white towel or that she actually had an appreciative look on her face as she ran her eyes down his bare torso.

He got dressed and made it to breakfast. He found himself staring at Hermione who was staring right back at him, a slight smirk on her face. He felt a light blush run over his cheeks as he looked down on his untouched food. He felt his stomach churn at the sight before getting up and leaving to his first class, thankfully devoid of Gryffindors.


	3. Drained

"Hey, could you help me with these prefect patrolling schedules?" Hermione asked as he walked through the portrait hole into their shared common room. They were on civil terms since they found out that they had to work together and that suited Draco just fine. He had been an outcast of the Slytherins since he had come back from the events last year. The only ones that talked to him were Blaise and Pansy, the ones who had known him since he was born and had been there through everything. He shrugged, sitting down across from her. They talked about the different prefects, Draco fell silent as soon as he felt toes running up his leg.

"Hermione, what's your game?" Draco asked, moving back away from her.

"Come on, we've been living together for half a year now…don't tell me it's never crossed your mind. I've seen the way you look at me sometimes," she answered, Draco frowned in thought. It was probably the look of hunger that she was mistaking as lust.

"I've got things to do, I'll continue this subject later," Draco got to his feet and went to his room. Hermione followed, forcing the door to his room open.

"I want to continue this now," she demanded. Draco felt his teeth start to morph, it happened whenever he really thought about a human and he had been studying Hermione the entire conversation. Her bringing up looks and touching him had pushed him farther than he had liked, especially in the state he was currently in.

"I think you should leave," Draco stayed turned away from her, bowing his head.

"First you give me answers," she hissed, Draco spun around, exposing his teeth. Real Vampyrs have eight elongated, sharp teeth. And that sudden knowledge hit him like a bag of bricks, why hadn't the full set showed up on his neck?

"Leave," he snarled, focusing on her frightened face. The fear slowly melted as realization dawned.

"You're…a" she trailed off.

"Quarter actually, now get out," he took a step towards her, she retreated back to the door. She lingered still and he literally growled at her and she ran off. Draco walked to the mirror in the bathroom, inspecting his teeth. They were the eye teeth situated next to the two front ones and four on the bottom. The top two next to the front teeth acted like a snake's that produced a very real drug. It gave the victim a nice, docile sense of euphoria. Once in a while an unlucky vamp would be dumb enough to be caught, the stuff was milked out of their teeth and sold on the street for a very hefty price. The bottom teeth acted like hyena jaws or a sharks, clamping down on the neck to keep the body from moving away so the drug can go to work and the blood could flow unhindered by struggles. Draco had seen some victims with their throats completely torn out, not a pretty sight.

"I need a fucking break," Draco looked up into the mirror.

"What about me?" Hermione appeared at the open door to her room.

"What about you?" He growled back.

"Seems to me that you really need something and I really need something, why don't we satisfy each other's needs?" Hermione offered.

"Are you always this slutty or did you drink a bunch before I walked in the door?" Draco raised an eyebrow, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Actually, I've been doing a lot of thinking, big surprise there, right? Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that being the last girl, probably the last person in the seventh year class that hasn't given it up is a bad thing. Also it satisfies my teenager hormones and relieves stress, all things that allow me to go back to my studies. You being…you, I was hoping to appeal to your better nature. After that didn't work, I tried previously unknown waters, seems you respond the best to direct persuasion," Hermione pushed off from the door frame and walked towards him.

"So why me? Why not the Weasel or Scarface?" Draco started taking steps back, away from her.

"Ron is taken while Harry is most decidedly gay. You see the dilemma?" She answered.

"And the rest of the student body just isn't appetizing?" Draco tried not to let his anxiety show.

"Funny you should choose those words," she smirked as Draco hit the bathroom wall next to the door, he had been more focused on the vixen in front of him than where the exit was, bad mistake. She slowly laid her body flush against his, the sensation sent flashes of light through his vision. He felt like grabbing his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Stop," He hissed, he felt her lips on his neck, a moan escaped his mouth as he closed his eyes. His vampyr teeth ached as every cell in his body cried out for the warm, pulsing body against him.

"Come on, you know you want to bite me," she whispered against his skin, sending him even higher. With strength he didn't know he had, he pushed Hermione away from him, slamming the door in her face and crawling to his bed where he curled up on it, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart.

"Oh fucking kill me already," he ground out, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees as he stared at the bathroom door.


	4. Mystery and Intrigue

He contemplated the mystery dream bite, it was completely wrong. Two puncture wounds on top of that it was too high up. Any vampyr would go lower to where the artery was closest to the skin and easiest to get to. Also there's more room down there, easier to rip into and widen. Definitely fucked is what he was, he found himself waking up at four in the morning and couldn't go back to sleep. He finally got up and wandered down to the common room where he sat before the slow fizzing embers. Today was Saturday so he didn't have to worry about class or anything.

Real vampyrs don't disintegrate in the sun and they aren't allergic to holy items of any kind. But they can only be killed by beheading or a puncture of the heart. The heart is the main organ of the vampyr, the one muscle that feeds blood to the rest of the body and so the most important. Also immortality, super strength and other senses was what made the Vampyr a superior hunter of the magical world.

He growled in frustration and went down to the dungeons where Snape was cleaning up after his fourth year tutoring session. He sat down and waited for the tall, dark professor to finish.

"I was hoping you would stop by. I've been meaning to look up information on the real vampyrs but you are a more…direct source," Snape turned back around to his favorite student.

"Father never told you about us?" Draco leaned forward, putting his arms on the wooden table before him.

"He was too busy saving the world and being in love with Narcissa," Snape grumbled, sitting down across from him.

"Well, where do I start?" Draco asked.

"How much did your father tell you?" Snape asked.

"Everything or almost everything, he wanted me to be prepared when I turned 17," Draco answered then took a deep breathe. "I know you've done a lot to try and ease my hunger pain and I've been so wrapped up in it that I've neglected to explain about my own species."

"Now is as good a time as any," Snape leaned forward in earnest.

"There are two types, the Vampyrs and the vampires. The Vampyr are the true vamps, the originals. They are the most powerful, holy water, day time, nothing but destruction of the heart or decapitation would stop them. They are strong, you've seen me at work on a good day. Vampires are what everyone writes about, little more than humans with fangs, they have a slight advantage with strength but they can go up in flames and ash in the daytime, subject to castings, spells and holy items of any kind. They are weak and powerless compared to the Vampyr," Draco explained.

"So what are we dealing with?" Snape asked.

"Vampyr, if it was just a few vampires, I would have taken care of them already, no problem but we're dealing with something extremely powerful. I don't like it," Draco answered.

"I see," Snape murmured thoughtfully.

"I've also been under attack, I don't know what or who it could be," Draco brought up and explained his mystery bite which had already healed.

"I don't know what to make of that either, I'm lacking in the magical creatures category and I would hate to send you to that oaf Hagrid," Snape curled his lip in disgust which Draco nodded distractedly to.

"No, I have another person who could help me and would be ten times more competent than Hagrid," Draco stood up, an idea dropping onto his head.

"What?" Snape asked as Draco moved to the door.

"Granger, she'll know exactly," Draco said before dashing out the door.

"I don't quite like that idea," Snape called to the empty doorway but Draco was already a flight of stairs away.

He slammed into the common room where Hermione was working on an essay for Arithmancy. She looked up at him as he sat down across from her. He studied her for a while, trying to see if she was ready to talk to him on civil terms.

"Are you a Vampyr or a vampire?" She asked finally as their staring contest ended, she blinked first.

"Quarter Vampyr," Dracon answered.

"That's the original race, right?" She continued.

"Correct, I need your help," he said, she smirked evilly.

"Well, seems like we're both in need of each other's services," Hermione leered, Draco rolled his eyes.

"You're fucking gorgeous Granger, why do you need me to get laid?" He exclaimed.

"Because I hate you," she simply replied, Draco sputtered.

"That usually means I'm out of the running," he ground out.

"No, that means nothing will come of our tryst, it will be a one night stand so I can get on with my school year," she answered in a rational voice.

"You bookish women are something else," Draco shook his head.

"So?"

"We'll see but you have to agree to help me," he held out his hand to her, she shook it.

"Now what is it?" She asked.

"I need your help…" Draco rambled off the events leading up to now including his lineage and all his suspicions.

"Sounds like something a Vampyr would do," she sat back.

"What do you mean?" He looked puzzled.

"A Vampyr can suck the life force out of a victim with out ever touching them. It's mostly done between a very old Vampyr and their younger fledglings. They crave the power of a Vampyr, especially a Vampyr that hasn't tasted mortal human blood. The life force isn't tainted by mortals you see but the cravings eat away at a Vampyr, they may go insane if the blood is withheld for too long. They become part of the Blood Clan," she explained, pulling out a book from her bag, it was ancient and looked like it was from the restricted section.

"I didn't know Hogwarts had something like this," Draco breathed.

"I didn't get it from the restricted section," Hermione smirked up at him. "When we last had our encounter…I ordered this from a bookseller I know very well in Hogsmeade," she explained.

"I'll have to get the name later on," Draco replied, flipping through the ancient tome. "So whoever I'm sensing is sucking energy out of me?" Draco looked up to confirm with Hermione.

"Basically, they must be drawn to you. You said something about your father fighting the Blood Clan before turning to the Dark Lord?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, he was called the Dark Angelus," Draco answered.

"Have there been others like your family?" Hermione probed deeper.

"I don't think so, our type usually…dies out quickly," realization started to dawn on his features.

"There's got to be a reason why, maybe they were all killed off incase something like your father happened but he managed to live past all of that," Hermione mused.

"No, my father said something about us being stronger than most Vampyrs, it's why we're such a danger…because we're near invincible but that doesn't explain me. I can do things any normal Vampyr would do now," Draco frowned in thought some more.

"You also said something about cravings…maybe the human blood does something for you," Hermione offered, Draco shrugged.

"It's one explanation," Draco replied, thinking it over.

"Maybe you should try it," Hermione leaned forward with a grin on her face, Draco leaned back.

"I don't think so," he said as he stood up to leave.

"Wait, we had a deal here," she protested.

"Yeah, I said we'll see, I never really agreed to anything," Draco smirked back at her then walked back up to his room, leaving a fuming Hermione behind.


	5. Clash

Draco floated a good thirty feet in the air, staring down on the Quidditch game going on below him. He was trying to keep his head in the game but he was a bit more distracted than usual. The cravings were getting worse and he was feeling even more drained. The puncture holes were still there even though the bruise had gone away. He needed to know who was taking a bite out of him night after night before he wasted away to nothing.

He spotted a gold glint and zoomed after it, Potter on his heels. He growled, reaching for the snitch when suddenly he was knocked nearly off his broom by Harry who had a surprised look on his face when he looked back at Draco. Harry had the snitch in his palm as they floated down to the ground.

"Are you alright? When I knocked into you…have you been keeping your weight up?" Harry looked genuinely concerned before his team mates ambushed him.

"What are you, my fucking dietician? Leave me the fuck alone Pothead," Draco snarled at the other before storming back to the Slytherin locker rooms in defeat. He didn't want to admit it felt like he was losing weight on top of everything or that Potter, the gorgeous freak actually cared enough to notice that he was easier to knock out of the way than usual. He grumbled to himself as he scrubbed up in the shower, the other Slytherins joking around him. Blaise was grinning as he slammed into the locker next to Draco as he dressed.

"Come on mate, we're going to Hogsmeade this weekend, ge' plastered," Blaise shouted to the rest of the team who cheered in return.

"I'll try and make it," Draco slammed his locker closed and walked out, leaving a concerned Blaise behind.

"Mr. Malfoy," the new DADA professor called after him. Draco stopped and turned around, he didn't even remember the dolt's name. He was a descent guy if a bit dimwitted. He even recited phrases from the textbook, long phrases.

"Yes sir?" Draco asked, walking back to the man, he was an intimidating figure with grizzly gray hair and broad shoulders. He looked the part but it stopped there.

"I want to see you later on tonight if I may. You seemed quite knowledgeable on the current subject, vampires. I was hoping to offer you a spot of tea and compare notes?" The man offered hopefully, Draco shrugged. It was an excuse to getting out of dealing with obnoxious drunken idiots for the night.

"Sure," Draco answered.

"Excellent, I'll meet you in the library at eight," he smiled and walked off in the opposite direction back to his room. Just then the man's name popped into his head, Professor Shacklebolt, related directly to the Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt and distant cousin to himself. He sighed, he was related to everyone it seemed like. At least he wasn't related to Hermione, he shivered at that thought. There was just some things he didn't want to think about. He walked on back to his room before dinner. He entered the common room and instantly felt like banging his head against the nearest wall. Hermione was bending over, picking up something she had dropped on the floor. She had worn a short pleated gray and black skirt. Her silk ivory legs smoothly slid down to knee high matching socks and black heels.

"You are a hateful wench," Draco snarled as he passed her to his room. He came back down after dropping off his flying gear to find Hermione leaning over her homework. She wore a low cut sweater that showed off her creamy delicious cleavage. She was also lightly chewing on her quill, drawing attention to her full rose lips. He walked over and gripped the table hard as he snarled down on her.

"What do you want? To drive me insane woman?" Draco growled, she slowly looked up at him with a sweet smile.

"Like you said, Draco, I'm a gorgeous woman, just showing it off," Hermione replied with a smug look on her face. He leaned down to get into her face.

"You are a slutty whore," Draco ground out.

"And you are a bloodsucking demon bastard," she replied, smile firmly in place. "At least we aren't denying what we are," Draco took a deep breathe.

"See I only want one man so that indicates that I'm not a slut or a whore," she pointed out.

"But it's so much fun calling you one you pristine perfect little princess," Draco hissed back.

"You're just unhappy because you have problems, everyone has problems," she replied.

"Not like I do," Draco smirked back.

"You aren't worrying about a monster-" she started.

"Voldemort? You've got to be kidding me, he's a mortal wizard, nothing like what I'm expected to hunt out and kill over and over again," he shouted back, she stood up.

"Oh well sorry for saving everyone's sorry asses these past seven years. The three of us have been fighting all sorts of horrible things since we were children!" Hermione fired back.

"You haven't been trying to figure out who you are, wondering if there really is a demon inside of you like some legends say. There's even laws against my kind, we're labeled as magical creatures! Not even fucking human, just a monster to fear in the night. Run away or else the Vamp'll get you," Draco shouted back.

"You're so selfish and ignorant. All you think about is yourself, woe is me, poor Draco, have pity on the little rich brat who's been given everything his entire life. Figure out who you are? What about me who was never told a thing about real magic, everything was fantasy and mists, nothing to believe in," Hermione tried to be heard over his shouting until they were dissolving back into name calling back and forth. She suddenly reached forward and pulled him towards her. His lips latched onto hers and they instantly battled their tongues against each other. Her arms tightly wrapped around his neck and his hands wrapped around her waist.

"No," Draco growled, pushing her away from him.

"You're afraid of me," she observed. "Afraid I'll push you too far and you'll do something you'll regret."

"Leave me the fuck alone," he hissed and disappeared up to his room, slamming the door behind him childishly. He didn't want to deal with her or what she did to him or that he really needed to figure out was how to regain his strength before whatever it was came out of the darkness and killed him. He needed help but he didn't know who to turn to for it, who wouldn't demand a too high of a price in return.

Author Notes: Please review! I want to know if everyone likes the story line enough for me to continue on with a sequel. If not I can always move on to editing my older stuff and continuing with other things.


	6. Unexpected

Draco found himself leaning back as he chatted lightly with Professor Shacklebolt, the man was quite tolerable outside of class. It must be stage fright because he actually seemed intelligent and even amiable. They sipped tea while going over what little literature the library had in the way of Vampires, even the wizarding world was rather ignorant when it came to the true subject of these fanged humanoids. Shacklebolt professed that he was also disappointed by the missing knowledge. It was mostly because mortal humans only came across the vampires and lived to tell the tale which Draco wanted to correct but didn't want to explain how he came across his personal knowledge on the subject.

Vampyrs rarely drained their mortal food and mostly used a memory erasing charm. Vampyrs actually could cast spells as quickly and powerfully as a wizard could unlike most magical creatures who were more in tuned with the chaotic elemental magic. It was the difference and also why they were called 'magical' creatures. But Draco didn't know this professor well enough to correct. There is one thing that isn't discussed in regular conversation unless you were looking for a fight and that was religion and politics. In the wizarding world it was the same. Magical creatures dropped neatly into both highly controversial categories depending on how you looked at them.

"So Draco, how is your father doing?" He asked delicately, he shrugged in return.

"I haven't heard from him, he seemed to me quite insane last time I saw him," Draco answered, Shacklebolt nodded thoughtfully into his tea cup.

"He was a very influential man in his time," Shacklebolt commented.

"Yeah, I suppose," Draco shrugged.

"I used to work at the Ministry for a while, Secrets Dept and all that but he was a man of power," Shacklebolt shook his head then glanced at the window. "It must be getting late and I don't want you to neglect your duties," Shacklebolt straightened up.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll see you in class then sir?" Draco got up, gathering his things.

"Yes of course, have a good evening, Draco," he said as he headed to the door, he waved in return and disappeared out into the hall. He walked up to his common room but stopped, he sensed that there was someone near by, someone that was waiting. He snuck up and realized that it was Harry.

"Who're you waiting for Potter?" Draco said, the golden boy jumped, startled as he spun around, his eyes wide as he took in Draco standing before him, a stuttering reply ensued.

"Calm down, barely understood you at all," Draco growled out, Harry jumped again, his hands twisting in anxiety before him.

"I'm sorry, it's just I…well…I need to talk to you," he finally forced out of his mouth, Draco frowned darkly.

"You were waiting for me," Draco stated, Harry nodded like a dashboard bobble head.

"Well, get on with it," Draco gestured, Harry looked around the corridor.

"Here? I was hoping we could talk in private for a moment," Harry almost squeaked out. Draco raised an eyebrow at that, this was becoming a very interesting night. He finally gestured for Harry to move down the corridor, they made it to the Head's common room. Harry was still fidgety, he sighed and moved to his room where Harry finally settled down enough as he looked around the dark mahogany four poster bed to the expensive ancient looking writing desk to the silver accented wardrobe.

"Well?" Draco finally ground out after a few tense moments of silence.

"Sorry, I wanted to know what was wrong, really," Harry finally answered.

"You Gryffindolts must all be addled in the brain or something. Why the sudden change of heart? I'm your school rival, you hate me, I hate you…all that shite," Draco reminded him.

"Right, well, you didn't kill Dumbledore and you're pretty much orphaned like I am…you've also been pretty decent to us this year, even to 'Mione. Just don't like seeing anyone suffer needlessly," Harry trailed off.

"And I being the irresistible sex god of Slytherin has nothing to do with it?" Draco watched in horror as a bright blush blossomed on Harry's cheeks.

"Look, I've must have been stark raving mad to think I could ever really have a civil conversation with you so I'm going to go now, okay?" Harry got to his feet and started for the door, Draco stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Alright, I'm…I didn't mean to upset you. We're almost adults here, I think we can handle a civil conversation as you say," Draco offered, Harry finally nodded and walked back to his seat on a pretty Victorian straight backed chair.

"Potter, I just don't understand how you can be forgiving, I was a pretty big brat growing up," Draco paced back and forth.

"Sure but that's the past, I'm fighting an underground war against a man who won't get out of my head. Who's so engrained into everything that I do, that I'm almost afraid that when he dies, I won't have a reason to live on past him. I don't have a desire for fame or glory or money. I just want to live a normal life for once and why am I telling you all of this?" Harry asked himself, Draco shrugged.

"Because I'm not interrupting," Draco offered.

"But you are you and I have two best friends who I can't even get a word in edge wise because they're always screaming at me about either their problems or about how I should handle mine," Harry took a deep cleansing breathe.

"You need an objective ear and I'm the closest thing you have to it," Draco answered, Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"So why have you been acting weird or I should say more weird than usual?" Harry turned his attention on Draco who shrugged.

"I didn't think anybody really noticed. I've been dealing with a lot of things lately a-" Draco started slowly, trying to figure out a good lie to tell him but he really didn't have to.

"Oh so have I, there's this big gathering about to happen soon, we think it's my chance of getting Voldemort but…" Harry rambled on about this for quite some time and Draco let him, he didn't feel like divulging all of his secrets to the Boy Who Lived a Not so Interesting but Still Dangerous Life or so Draco tried to rationalize. Harry was just another teenager when it really came down to the essentials. He was forced into saving the wizarding world against a madman who plagued his every thought, literally and his own growing up wasn't too easy for him either. Draco was forced to admit that Harry had some valid points but he had the support of the wizarding world and he had real friends who cared about him, even if they were a bit selfish and unrelenting. Draco had himself, he had always had only himself but that was something he was just now getting comfortable with now that his father wasn't lording over him. Sorry, Draco was kind of zoning out during Harry's long ramble about Deatheaters and Voldemort…let's go back, shall we?

"…And so I don't know why I should even worry, I've defeated him multiple times before so why shouldn't I be able to do it one more time?" Harry took a deep breathe and let it out.

"Because the last time is always the hardest, it's a true, all ending defeat but once done, you won't have to worry about him anymore," Draco answered, Harry nodded, a feeling of relief washing over him.

"I'm sorry for going on, what were you saying?" Harry asked, looking up at Draco.

"No, don't worry about it, maybe some other time but I think it's getting late and we both have school tomorrow," Draco saw Harry to the door and walked back to his own room. He leaned back against his closed door and took a deep breathe. He needed to have a clear head now, he needed to stop ranting about how the golden boy gets everything, how he's always in the spotlight and always the one with all the support. He'll be able to get out of this upcoming war alive while Draco felt like his life was more and more dead. He was slowly forgetting all the reasons why he loved his father, why he cared about his life, about any of it. He just wanted to forget and move on. He didn't want to go hunting vamps, he didn't want to drive everything he believed in, into the dirt before he ever discovered the true meaning of it. He felt hopeless and that was something he could almost live with, deep down inside he just wanted to run away.

Notes: To explain the pronunciation, vampyr: vam-pier (like the ship docking to) vampire: vam-pyre (funerary stack of wooden stuff) (Just kind of the way I thought it up of course. Vampyr just sounds more sophisticated than the usual pronunciation of the word.) Sorry, not very good at explaining phonics…but I hope I got the point across.


	7. The Rose Dies

Draco sat staring at the game going on before him. It was Ravenclaw against the Gryffindors and the Gryffindors were trashing their opponent. Ron had turned out to be a good player along with the Weaselette. People still counted on Harry to get the job done and it almost disgusted him, a Quidditch team, a really good one didn't have to strictly rely one team member, there should be more and it just seemed to him that Potter saved the day time and again. Granted that suited Hogwarts and all but Potter was on to other things besides Quidditch while Draco was on to fighting Vampyrs.

He looked down on his gloved hands. He had a nightmare right before waking up of his hands splitting open and bleeding black, he just didn't want to see them right now until he could get that image out of his head. He looked over to where Hermione was cheering on her best friends. She was rather gorgeous in that good girl sort of way but she was still not his type. True his type turned out to be slutty, big breasted slightly older women who frequented the Malfoy parties and was mostly looking to latch onto his extravagant amount of money. Draco felt depressed and it all started when he turned 17. He really didn't want to but it came anyway.

He got up after the game, Gryffindor had predictably won and headed back to his room for another study session. He needed something to help him feel worth something, anything but he had a feeling there really wasn't anything that could do that. Harry sat on his broom watching Draco walk back to Hogwarts. He studied the silver blonde hair as it floated on the breeze, the curve of his slender body as he gracefully floated away with the crowd. He was like a porcelain god among the plain, stumbling masses that plagued this school. He shook his head clear of such thoughts and told his team that he'd be along for the celebrations tonight but wanted some time alone.

They wandered off back to the showers and he stayed in the air. He wanted to be free, that's why he was so good at flying because that's when he felt like a bird, free. He felt like some bleeding sacrificed savior that was giving too much, forced to give too much while he heard his own death whispering in his ear. He didn't know what he wanted in the end. He only knew he couldn't love anyone, he tried with Ginny, Cho…countless other girls after them but none of them held any sort of reality to them. They didn't bring life from his dying veins. He felt like he was spiraling into a void and soon he'd be in hell with Voldemort, eternally forced to fight him, like he wasn't there already.

He snorted and finally floated down to the ground. The gray clouds above him was a dark prophecy of a soaking rain. He wanted to be out for a good clear, freezing natural shower but decided against it. He didn't want to explain to the others why he had a cold so he opted for the steaming hot shower where he would try and scrub himself clean. He felt eyes on him as he turned off the water, he spun around but no one was there.

"Hello?" Harry walked into the locker room but it was empty. He finally shrugged and started getting dressed.

"Hello," a voice coiled out from the darkness, he noticed the lights start to flicker above him. He looked around wildly but still didn't see anyone as he pulled out his wand.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, still looking around.

"Nobody," they whispered, Harry took a deep breathe as he felt himself being suddenly grabbed and dragged away. He started to scream when the thought hit him but it was too late, he was already somewhere else.

~~~~~!~~~~~

Draco felt like he was drowning in a vat of blood, he was choking, trying not to swallow any of it but it was an impossible task. He felt the metal sides and tried to latch on to something. He pushed angrily away from it when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He gasped, trying to wipe the blood from his eyes as he tried to see.

"Welcome at long last my child," a voice called from the darkness. Draco looked down on the man before him, it was Harry standing there but he looked vacant, like he was under the Imperious.

"Who are you?" Draco asked, looking up at Blaise who was holding him above the blood.

"I am your benefactor, you have given me so much and now I will repay you because I am a giving master," Harry answered.

"What are you giving me?" Draco looked down, he wasn't in a vat of blood, it was warm water.

"I am giving you what you most desire, drink from them and be strong," Harry pulled out a knife from his pocket and held it to his neck. "No!" Draco screamed, struggling against Blaise who also seemed like he was under the same spell.

"They are nothing but food and so you must understand. They hold no real meaning to ones such as powerful as us. We are gods and you must learn this or perish," Harry explained as Blaise pulled him out of the water and let go of him.

"Where are you? I wanted to see my master's face," Draco spat out, looking around the dark warehouse.

"I am far from where you are. You have given me such strength that I can do a great many things. Anger me in any way and I will be forced to bring you down," Harry hissed. Slowly the spell started to weaken, Draco could see the emerald shine of Harry's true will start to break through the cloudy haze over his eyes.

"Do it," he gasped out.

"No, I will not," Draco took a step back into Blaise's strong arm who held him in place.

"I want you to," Harry rasped. "I need to die…"

"I won't do this," Draco shouted. "You have to live, go on, defeat Voldemort, destroy the evil before you because if you don't then I don't have a chance at defeating my own demons," Draco explained as tears started to fall down Harry's face.

"I'm useless, broken," Harry shook his head, looking away from Draco.

"No, you are the strongest person I know," he held Harry's chin up, forcing eye contact.

"I want you to kill me instead of Voldemort doing it," Harry replied, Draco snarled and let go of the other, turning to Blaise.

"You, do you want the same?" Draco shouted at his best friend.

"Do you really think they have any real choice? Kill them both my child and embrace me, I am your father and you will obey me," Blaise growled.

"You would drain your own son?" Horror washed over Draco's body. "Exploit my powers and hide from me?" He felt numb and betrayed as he stumbled away from the other two.

"Don't suffer like I have suffered, there are worlds out there that these mortals could only dream about. Come with me and I'll show you all of it," Lucius' voice was suddenly apparent in Blaise's voice.

"You're disgusting and I hate you, hear me, Lucius Malfoy, I am no longer your son but now your eternal enemy," Draco shouted and ran. He didn't know where he was going but he knew if he got far enough he would stop hearing his heart break down.


	8. War

Draco stood on the battle field, panting. The world had collided around him and he was in a sea of people fighting against each other. Hogwarts had pushed out it's seventh years into a full out war against the Deatheaters. Draco had been on the supposed neutral side but really he was searching for one man that had escaped Azkaban. He wanted his father dead and he didn't care how he did it. He had managed to avoid everyone until graduation, even going so far as to wait until Hermione went to her room late at night after studying. Of course the Golden Trio had much to do before the big battle, they had been rarely seen anymore and that suited Draco's purposes perfectly. He didn't need distractions and that is all they were. He looked around at the carnage and started to drift, he had killed off a few Deatheaters, keeping out of the way of the Aurors and other such wizards, making sure that he stayed alive long enough to find his father. He stopped, his eyes falling on Hermione who was fighting, she looked unreal covered in dirt and was moving with a great power that came deep within her. She looked like some wrathful goddess bent on the destruction of her enemies. She was everything he had dreamed to want, she was perfect just like that and he was sad that he had passed up the chance to be with her. He looked towards Voldemort who was just waiting at the top of the hill for Harry to reach him. Draco decided that this wasn't the place for him, his father would never leave himself so open. He'd be hiding, waiting for him and so he decided to make his name as the next Dark Angelus by killing off the little vampires his father had made out of a few of the Deatheaters…

~~~~!~~~~

Hermione was screaming at the walls, she pounded on the wooden door. She was reduced to pacing, random thoughts jumped out of her mouth. There was noise on the other side and she stared at it.

"Who's there!" She demanded at long last, she felt so desperately trapped as she started to recognize the sounds coming from the other side. Screams of pain, someone was being brutally tortured. She was shaking as she slowly lowered herself to the cold stone floor. She felt her eyes start to droop, she had a long day of celebration over the defeat of Voldemort. It had been a month since the end of the long war that had left them all scarred, dead in a way. She felt like she had lost so much, what more could they do to her? Then it all ended in one blaze of glory, the shock wore off and then the grief started, so many parties were thrown in her and her friend's honor that she drowned herself in alcohol, drugs and loud music. It was all she could do to forget and now she was here.

"You'll obey," she heard a voice hiss, she vaguely recognized it. "Don't make me bring out all the tricks I have in my bag," the older male voice continued.

"Fuck you," another voice replied, she also vaguely recognized that one. Both had cultured accents, silver blonde hair flashed through her mind but she was so tired that it barely registered, soon she was fully asleep.

Draco crawled towards the body laying curled on her side, Hermione looked untouched but anything could have happened to her. He had trouble seeing, his vision was starting to go, the blood cravings were so hard to overcome, it had weakened him so much that it was almost too easy for his father to capture him. He had failed and now the ones that he cared for paid the price.

"Please, leave her alone," Draco breathed, rolling her onto her back, she looked fast asleep, peaceful even.

"I'll leave you two alone but I promise you, if you don't obey me and drain her completely, I will kill her myself, painfully," Lucius threatened before walking out, slamming the door behind him. Draco clutched at his stomach and curled up into a corner far from Hermione.

"Draco?" Hermione breathed, blinking her eyes open on someone who looked like Draco but couldn't really be, he was so starved looking, blood covered half his face and was matted into his once beautiful silk hair. She got up and looked down on his curled form. She kneeled down and lightly touched the good side of his face, he groaned and curled even tighter into himself.

"G'way," he murmured, swatting at the air, she smiled lightly then leaned down towards him. She saw him take a deep breathe, inhaling her scent, his eyes opened, they looked extremely glazed, he was almost blind she thought distractedly.

"Please…just go away," He repeated weakly, she tilted her head.

"Always refusing what you truly are," she shook her head, her soft honey colored hair caressing his arm.

"Don't," he closed his eyes and tried to go back into his pain filled mind. She sighed once more and leaned even further forward, turning her head to fully reveal her soft creamy neck to him. She put her hand on the floor behind him to balance herself, she felt her skin touch his soft lips as his hand snaked up, wrapping around her waist. There was a growl floating through the air as she felt eight fully developed fangs sink into her neck.

She aligned herself fully against his body as she felt the drug from his teeth wash over her. It was a soft delirium that plummeted her into a strange, unknown place that she really didn't want to leave. Draco ran his fingers through her soft honey silk waves, her heartbeat slamming through his body as blood washed over his tongue. As soon as he felt her heart start to skip, horror reverberated down his spinal cord like a quick electric shock. He unhook his teeth from her neck, he had rolled over so he was on top. He stared down on her pasty unhealthy looking skin, her eyes were closed, she was completely limp, docile. He moved away from her, lightly casting a healing charm on her neck. The skin knitted up and only a light bruise remained.

He ran a nervous hand through his matted hair and felt his back hit the door. It opened and he was staring into his father's eyes. He hadn't realized how tall he had grown, he was nearly level with his towering father.

"Have you killed her?" Lucius looked past him to Hermione.

"No," Draco responded, he growled in return.

"Then I will finish her," Lucius moved to shove Draco out of the way. He was too fast, he slammed into his father, they tumbled back into the Malfoy Dungeon. Lucius choked, blood started to come out of his mouth. He had fallen on a morning star that was laying on the table behind them.

"I'm taking back what's mine," he said, hooking his arms around his father's to keep him from moving and descended, taking a bite out of Lucius' neck. He screamed, feeling his strength drain away as Draco tore out his throat savagely. Behind them Hermione stumbled to her feet and leaned against the door, fighting the dizziness of blood loss. She finally registered what was going on right before her. Blood was everywhere and Lucius Malfoy was nearly decapitated. That was about the time she started screaming. Draco turned to her and she stumbled backwards, falling and banging her head against the stone floor. Draco dashed towards her, scooping her up and getting the fuck out of there. He didn't look back or he would have known that his father was trying to crawl after him, holding his ravaged neck together.


	9. Choices

Hermione woke up screaming. She sat up in luxury, she stared uncomprehendingly at the hotel room she found herself in. Draco was seated in an overstuffed chair in the corner by the window, waiting for her to wake up. She finally leveled out her breathing and looked down on her shaking hands.

"You'll regain your strength within a couple of days. That was a stupid thing you did," Draco murmured, he was in the dark so she could only see his silhouette.

"I had to do something. You couldn't fight him weakened as you were," She answered, clenching her fists and balling them up in the silk sheets.

"Yes, we got out of there in one piece but I lost something-" Draco started.

"Bugger off, we all have sacrifices we make in order to get through even the day. Don't give me that bullshit, we did what we had to do, the both of us," she returned heatedly. He leaned forward and she gasped, his eyes were like twin neon blue flames, he had a shine to his skin that exuded power. It was like watching God.

"I could destroy you with out ever saying a word, just barely a thought and you would keel over without anyone the wiser. You've given me more power than even I can control, it's a constant struggle. Do you think that's good?" Draco asked, his voice was deeper than she remembered, darker.

"Why are you so afraid of it?" She breathed, suddenly he had her pinned to the bed, his hands clutching her wrists above her head.

"I can smell your fear," Draco observed, leaning forward and taking in a deep breathe. She turned her face away from him, unconsciously exposing her long, pulsing neck. She shivered as he licked a long wet line along her main artery.

"Do you want me?" He breathed hotly into her ear, he felt her shiver once again. She turned her eyes back to him.

"Always," she answered, he descended on her lips. She met him halfway as he slid his hand down her body and wrapped his fingers tightly around her hip as her free arm came up to wrap around him. She moaned into his mouth as he ground his hips against hers. There was a sharp beep from somewhere which startled Draco, he looked around confused.

"My cell, must be Harry," she replied, fumbling into her pockets, soon she came up with a small black box which she flipped open and started pushing buttons, he stared at it, fascinated.

"Sent me a text, he's wondering where I am," she glanced up at him, they were seated across from each other.

"Cell? Text?" He tried the new vocabulary words out.

"Yeah, cell phone?" She shook the contraption up in front of him then returned to it as it beeped again.

"Muggle technology right?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, do you even know what a telephone is?" She asked, looking up at him after she had pushed a few buttons.

"Sure, we're staying in a muggle hotel right now, it's that thing, right?" He pointed at the phone that was sitting on the bedside table.

"Yeah well this is a mobile telephone. Uses satellite technology in order to connect the call," she explained, completely loosing him.

"What's a satellite?" His voice got smaller as he got more and more unsure, it was like she was speaking a different language suddenly.

"You really need to take a class on muggle studies…then again, that class really wasn't all that up to date. We'll get you into the new millennium soon enough my sexy vamp," She grinned up at him before returning back to the…cell phone.

"Well, looks like we won't be doing anything more interesting right now. I'm going down to the restaurant, want to come with," He offered.

"You mean, like eat dinner with you? As in a date?" She stared up at him, Draco shrugged.

"If you want it to be, I'm just kind of hungry is all," Draco answered, she nodded and got up, he followed her out of the room. She felt butterflies start to flutter in her stomach as she sat across from him. It was a beautiful restaurant and for once he was charming. She found herself laughing, actually laughing at what he was saying. It was strange, very strange because she was supposed to be hating this man before her. She finally realized that he did grow up among nobility, that he was part of the wealthy aristocratic world way up above the regular people. She was amazed at even how he ate, she felt awkward and clumsy across from him and way underdressed.

Soon they were walking along the streets of London, just talking about mundane things, anything but the war and vamps. She felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. It was a beautiful feeling and she hoped it would never end.

"So are you going to go back?" Draco asked as they sat down in a park to watch the sunset.

"Back to my friends?" She clarified, Draco shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, Potter and the Order…your job at the ministry and all that," he said, she sighed in return, looking down on her hands folded in her lap.

"I kind of have to but I don't want to. I feel like…" she searched for the appropriate words but she couldn't find them.

"I haven't gone this long without thinking about my father and all the kinds of pain I want to bring him," Draco commented, smiling at her. Knowing exactly what she was feeling because for once he felt that way also.

~~~~!~~~~

Hermione stared up at the moon, wondering why life had to do this. Why she had to be the one to take this immeasurable burden. She had friends she could count on, people that would sacrifice their life for hers and vice versa but she wondered what it would be like to take a chance. She had been trying to take this chance for a long time and finally Draco was responding to her. Finally she had what she truly wanted but was it truly wanted? She felt right when she was with him and that should be the one thing that counted. But what was she to do?


	10. Hellbind

Hermione stared out the window of her office, it was a beautiful day with white fluffy clouds floating by and a flock of birds soaring high among them. There was a knock on her door and she turned, calling for them to come in. Professor Shacklebolt walked in and sat down before her.

"Ms. Granger, I was hoping to talk to you about a case you were working on earlier. My brother mentioned that you were investigating the whereabouts of one Lucius Malfoy," He explained, Hermione frowned, giving him an inquiring look.

"Well, yes, I was but I was pulled off that case when I got too close," Hermione answered. Actually she had pulled herself off that case with little explanation but she had enough clout in order to get away with it.

"Yes, that's what my brother said. I was hoping I could talk with you about Mr. Malfoy's son, Draco," he explained, Hermione felt a cold hand clench her heart. She had decided to leave in the end, she had a life and she couldn't leave that, he had let her go, telling her that if she ever needed anything, just to call for him and he would help her.

"What about him?" Hermione asked stiffly, trying to cover up her true feelings.

"He's been missing for a very long time. There are rumors that his father has finally murdered the young man," Shacklebolt answered, Hermione looked down on the files scattered over her desk.

"I have no idea what happened to Draco Malfoy, I was only going after his dad," Hermione shrugged, looking back up at the once professor, he had lasted a year like the rest appointed to the Hogwarts DADA position. He had gone on to fight in the war instead of stick around the school.

"I was hoping you knew something about him because I need to speak with him about his condition," he explained.

"Condition?" Hermione leaned forward.

"Draco Malfoy was neutral during the war, his condition as a wanted man on both sides became apparent when he started killing off deatheaters and then disappearing without so much as a how do you do. He was brutal, you saw him as much as I did, targeting certain cloaked individuals and tearing them apart with his will. I could barely connect him with the boy I tutored during his final year," Shacklebolt shook his head and looked up at Hermione who was patiently staring at him.

"And you came to me because?" Hermione leaned back.

"You were the Head of your class along with Draco. You would know where he would be better than any one and I need to talk to him," he answered.

"And why do you need to talk to him?"

"I think you know why," Shacklebolt pulled out a long black metal, medieval looking dagger and slammed it's point into the wood of her desk. She jumped, eyeing it warily before she recognized exactly what was thoroughly stuck into her desk, then she jumped and moved back away from it.

"Where the fuck did you get that?" Hermione demanded, staring at the dark, blood red ruby glinting in the bright sunlight set at the end of the pummel.

"I take it you know what this is then," Shacklebolt smirked, leaning forward next to it.

"I'm not some shiny penny off the street, of course I know what that is," she growled in return.

"So you also know why Draco would need it."

"He's been doing fine with out that…that demon possessed contraption," she shouted.

"It's not going to suddenly jump forward and take a big ole' bite out of you," Shacklebolt couldn't help the smile crawling over his face.

"It might, that's the Knife of Hellbind. It can kill a Vampyr as easily as a slash across the throat," Hermione growled, Shacklebolt nodded, grinning up at her.

"He's also the next Dark Angelus," Shacklebolt announced, she shook her head.

"Draco isn't the type to go after the Blood Clan, he's a little busy with his own life," Hermione answered.

"You know he's the only one who can wield this thing, it's made with his grandfather's blood," Shacklebolt told her.

"So how did you come by it?" Hermione asked, shifting her eyes to him.

"I know a guy who knows a guy. Look, the main deal is, we have to get it to him before something bad happens to him. There's a lot of vamps out there looking for him and so far he's been lucky but pretty soon that luck'll run out," Shacklebolt growled.

"What about the other weapons Lucius Malfoy wielded at his height of vamp hunting? Would you know where those might be?" Hermione asked once the thought dawned on her.

"Ragnarok and Apocalypse? I might," Shacklebolt shrugged. Hermione took a deep breathe and let it out slowly. Ragnarok was a large broadsword that had been handed down from one Malfoy to the next since way before the dark ages. It could kill anything, not just vampyrs. Apocalypse had been made during the Spanish Inquisition to fight against the angry mobs, it was a very mean looking cat o' nine tails whip with magical barbs along the ends, very effective if you ever find yourself out numbered and the Blood Clan usually traveled in packs.

"Why didn't Lucius Malfoy keep his most powerful family weapons?" Hermione asked.

"Voldemort knew that the Lord Malfoy would be too powerful with the weapons in hand, too hard to control so he made his right hand sell the relics off. I recently acquired this gem and I have a good lead on Apocalypse but Ragnarok is turning out to be the hardest to find. Of course it's also the most magical out of the three," Shacklebolt cast an admiring glance at Hellbind. It had been the only weapon out of the three specially designed to destroy vamps.

"Why? I thought Hellbind was the best," Hermione didn't even want to look at the dagger.

"Yeah, for the situation but Ragnarok is old, very old. Almost as old as the Hogwarts founders. It has more energy locked inside of it than any sword I have ever laid eyes on," Shacklebolt explained, Hermione frowned.

"Wait, you've actually seen it?"

"I was Lord Malfoy's squire once, back when I was a boy and Lucius was still fighting vamps. How I admired and loved the man, he was different then. Draco reminds me a lot of him but enough of days long gone. We have a lot to do," Shacklebolt pulled the dagger out of Hermione's desk and sheathed it into his robes, standing up.

"And what do I have to do with any of this?" Hermione growled.

"You my dear have no choice in the matter. He's marked you and you are now linked to him. If he dies then you also die," Shacklebolt explained.

"That's vague, cryptic and ludicrous!"

"He took some your blood, correct?"

"Well, yes."

"That means that your blood is running through his veins. Only Vampyrs have a special link to who they bite, that's why they usually only pick one mortal to take blood from and keep them around. They use your magically infused blood to make their own magical powers stronger. If you die by another's hand then he dies, if he gets killed then you die," Shacklebolt heatedly answered.

"Instantly?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"He has around ten minutes to find who killed you to kill them but either way he dies," he fired back, annoyed as he turned to the door and opened it for her.

"What if nobody is murdered?" Hermione found herself walking out her door and following Shacklebolt out of the Ministry of Magic.

"Then we all live happily ever after. Look, I know you know where he is so we better get to him as quick as possible."

"Do you know something that I don't know?" Hermione asked.

"I'm alive aren't I?" He growled, turning back to her, she looked puzzled.

"Lucius Malfoy is not dead, that's what me being alive means," he hissed into her face before turning and carrying on, she hurried to catch up.

"Why are you giving Draco the weapons to kill his father if it means you'll die to?" Hermione exclaimed as they almost ran through the busy hallways of the Ministry.

"Because I know what Lucius Malfoy is capable of and I also know that the man is evil. I can't let evil go on destroying because I'm too selfish," he growled, stopping at an apparating point and grabbing onto Hermione before she could fire off another question.


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure, Horror