Fic: In the Wake of Change, HP, Harry/Draco, NC17/18

[beren_writes]

Merry Month of Masturbation – Day 08
My MMOM Master List 2010
Title: In the Wake of Change
Author: Beren
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC17/18
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: explicit sex, EWE
Summary: On his twenty first birthday Draco discovers he has vampire blood and he end up hunting Harry Potter.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word count: 4,727
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Draco was going to be twenty one in, he cast a Tempus charm, ten minutes and what was he doing? He was sitting alone in the Malfoy library drinking expensive cognac and becoming depressed. Twenty one, a year when he finally became, completely and totally an adult in the eyes of all laws both magical and muggle; which was the problem really. His father had decreed that he was going to have to do his duty, get married and produce the next Malfoy heir. Not overly irksome if he and his wife came to the same type of arrangement his mother and father had, but there was the whole producing an heir thing. Draco found women distasteful. Oh he had nothing against them on a social or an intellectual level, it was at a purely base, sexual level he wanted nothing to do with them.

They had round bits where he preferred defined muscle and curves where he preferred angles and frankly the idea of having to get it up on his wedding night was depressing. Of course there were potions to help that along, but it was the principle of the thing. He liked being young and free and only careful enough not to end up in the Prophet; when he was married he would have to be discrete for the sake of the family name.

His mother would probably have it all arranged within the month and as soon as he was engaged all bachelor behaviour would be expected to stop.

He sighed and took another sip of his cognac. It would have been fitting to be out celebrating his last few weeks of freedom, but he hadn't felt like it. No doubt Blaise would demand that he spend his actual birthday rip roaringly drunk, so he was enjoying the solitude while it lasted. Sometimes being a pureblood was really a royal pain in the arse, not that he would ever say that out loud of course. He bet that Potter didn't have to worry about such things as being forced into marriage. It had been a bit of a shock to most of the Wizarding world when Potter and his Weaselette had called off their engagement the previous year, but Draco had seen it coming. The two were better friends than they were lovers; it had been written all over them.

Why he was thinking about Potter he had no idea; it wasn't as if they were friends. They were on nodding terms when they happened to pass each other in the Ministry and Potter had helped him out after the war when he had proposed a plan to help heal the rift in their society and Potter had backed him up. It had been part reputation rebuilding and part genuine concern for the complete collapse he had seen coming and it seemed to have worked for now. Potter had done exactly what was expected of him and run off to join the Aurors as soon as he left school and was, even barely out of the training, one of the best the Ministry had. Even Draco agreed with that assessment; he'd seen the reports. Potter would probably be head Auror by the time he was thirty.

Putting his cognac down, he looked over at the large grandfather clock that was in the corner of the library; only another minute to go. Waiting up to see his birthday in was a tradition he had had since he was a small boy. His mother had always allowed him to have one present as soon as it was midnight. It had been a tradition and she had always told him he had been born only seconds after midnight. so he deserved a gift as soon as the change in day chimed. His mother and father were in France where they had taken up residence ever since his father had completed a short sentence in Azkaban after the war, so there would be no kisses and no present this year, but he still couldn't make himself go to bed.

No doubt there would be owls and gifts showing up over the next day and his mother would undoubtedly return to start arranging a bride for him very shortly, but until then he had Malfoy Manor to himself. As the clock began to chime he did manage to raise a smile for himself and he felt the magic of the house shift just a little. Twenty one was also the age where the old fashioned wards finally recognised him as one of the men in the family. Three times seven; two very magical numbers multiplied together to make a supposedly very magical time of life.

Draco was not sure why twenty one was supposed to be such a significant age, but as the twelth chime sounded he could feel his core magic shifting. It was a little odd, but not alarming, since the change in the wards were most likely just setting him off a little. He had always been sensitive to magical fields, something his father told him he had inherited from his great grandfather, and he didn't let it bother him. Now that he had seen his birthday in, tradition was satisfied and it was time for bed.

He made it halfway to the door before he felt the room spin and he had to grab for the side of the table he was passing. At the same time his magic lurched in a most unsettling fashion and he had just enough time to figure out something was not right before his vision began to grey out and his knees went weak. His grip on the table prevented him hitting the floor too hard, but he couldn't even hold on to that for long and he crumpled forward onto his hands and knees. Magic was swirling through him from his core, he could feel it, and as it moved it wiped away any control he had over his body. The antique rug seemed to jump up to meet his face as his limbs gave out completely and he had just enough time to wonder what the hell was going on before blackness reached up to grab him and trumped the panic that was building.

The clock was striking quarter to one when Draco opened his eyes again. He was still lying on the floor in exactly the same position he had been, but the library, which had only been lit by one lamp when he passed out seemed much brighter. Blinking and making a mental note to get one of the house elves to clean the rug, because it smelt thoroughly awful, he pushed himself into a kneeling position. It took him a few moments to give himself a mental check over, but to his surprise he felt fine, in fact he felt incredibly good; strong, healthy and buzzing with energy. The only thing he noticed out of place was the fact that he was incredibly thirsty.

Standing up, he brushed himself off and decided to have words with his father about not warning him what the change in wards could do. That had not been a pleasant experience and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why his parents wouldn't have mentioned it, but his father could be strange with life lessons like that sometimes. What he needed was a drink and then to get some sleep before Blaise showed up, although he felt very, very awake, so he wasn't sure how well that was going to go. He walked over to the door and took the handle. It was an old lock that needed repairing and it was always getting stuck so it required a swift jerk to open it. Draco applied the normal amount of effort he usually did to pull it open and came back with the broken handle in his hand.

"What in Merlin's name?" he said, blinking in surprise.

The door swung open with a squeak as the handle on the other side fell onto the floor and rolled down the hallway.

It really did not seem to be his day, which was a shame given that it was his birthday. He had been intending to take a walk to the kitchens and find himself something to drink, but he wasn't in the mood to push his luck, so he called for a house elf as he stepped into the hallway. Elley, his newest elf, popped up right beside him.

"Ah, Elley," he said, having found that being nice to house elves actually got him a lot better service than being nasty to them, "please ..."

The elf's ears trembled, her huge eyes opened even wider and she screamed and vanished. Draco was left with his mouth open talking to empty air. That was even stranger behaviour than he was used to from the flighty creatures and he had a sinking feeling. It was when he glanced up and caught sight of himself in the huge mirror that hung opposite the entrance to the library that his world momentarily ground to a halt. For a little while he did not believe what he was seeing and he moved closer to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

After staring at himself for a good thirty seconds he concluded that he was in fact seeing what he thought he was seeing; he eyes were blood red and not just the irises either; his whole eyes. The only variations were the inky black pupils. His skin was incredibly pale, even more so than usual and when he opened his mouth he could see slightly elongated fangs. He was looking at all the signs of a vampire, only that didn't make any sense, because he was very sure he had not been bitten and drained. In fact he hadn't taken any potions or done any magic or taken part in anything that could have caused this at all, all he had done was turned twenty one.

That thought caught in his brain and he turned swiftly round and walked back into the library. He had read something once, something about twenty one and vampires; it had been for a dark arts project over one of his summer holidays. He'd always been a little bit fascinated by vampires, not that he'd ever wanted to be one, and he headed straight for the corner of the library where he knew they had books on them. He remembered the huge tome he had looked through as soon as he saw it and pulled it off the shelf, all but throwing it on the desk with a thump. Scanning the index he tried to find something that looked familiar and then he saw it: 'Hereditary Vampires'. In his haste to find the page he almost ripped the book in half and he made a mental note to remember he was stronger now.

"Hereditary Vampires," he read when he found the right chapter, "are only marginally similar to normal vampires. A hereditary vampire is a rare creature and is usually created accidentally when vampire blood is introduced into a magical lineage by some form of magical mishap or deliberate intent. Vampire blood can lie dormant in a line or show itself immediately; but exposure of a foetus in the womb to dark magic has been shown to make sure instances more likely. A hereditary vampire may be born as such or may develop vampire traits at the two significant times of life: eleven or twenty one. Hereditary vampires have superior strength, sight, hearing and smell and sometimes gain an animagus form, but they do not develop the speed or ability to transform themselves into gaseous form that a normal vampire has. They require blood and, when thirsty, will display the red eyes and fangs associated with regular vampires. A hereditary vampire is not undead and hence will be sensitive to, but not damaged by sunlight and they are not immortal, but do have superior healing capabilities. Like normal vampires, hereditary vampires are fussy eaters and will find that only certain types of humans satisfy their need for blood. Every vampire has to discover this for themselves and most vampires offer sex in return for blood from their donors. A hereditary vampire will only usually need to feed once in every seven days and cannot create more of its own kind."

Draco stopped reading. How vampire blood had made in into the Malfoy line he had no idea, but he could guess why it had come out in him. He had been born at the height of Voldemort's first reign; there had to have been dark magic everywhere. Why he was a vampire wasn't really the overriding issue, however; the main thing was, was that he was thirsty, very thirsty, which meant he needed blood. He didn't know exactly what would happen if he did not feed, but he remembered reading about some nasty side effects for normal vampires and he could not risk leaving it too long. It appeared he was going out after all and he knew one place it shouldn't be too hard to pick someone up. There were always wizards who were a little kinky and he was sure he could find one to satisfy his needs.

In the morning he could worry about the long term effects of what he was, but right then he had more immediate things to worry about.

It took him about twenty minutes to get ready and then he cast a glamour on his eyes to hide the red and flooed to Diagon Alley. The club was situated down one of the side streets right at the end and he walked towards it quickly. What drew him to a halt, however, was the crowd outside it and some very familiar figures. It was just his luck that the Aurors had chosen that night to raid the club for some reason; just what he needed.

"Potter," he heard someone call and he stepped into the shadows as he saw his one time nemesis standing off to the side, "we've got them; you can let everyone back in. Jones is going to handle it from here, so once you're done you can go straight home."

"Thanks, Wade," Potter replied, although he didn't sound overly pleased as he walked forward.

Things were beginning to look up and so Draco continued to lurk.

"Can I have your attention," Potter called to all the club goers who were milling around. "Thank you for your time, sorry about the inconvenience; you are now free to return to the club or leave as you see fit."

"About bloody time," was one disgruntled comment, but Potter didn't seem to care.

Draco began to edge his way towards the edge of the crowd; if he was lucky he could get in without anyone he knew seeing him. It was as he made it within about ten feet, still hidden in the shadows, that the most amazing smell reached him. It was like strawberries and chocolate and fresh bread and brewing coffee and, well, everything he loved all rolled into one. He zeroed in on Potter as his nose told him exactly where the scent was coming from and barely managed to stop himself walking forward there and then. A little voice at the back of his brain began to cry at his luck and bang its little head against the virtual brick wall, but most of him was just totally focused. He stood there, completely still and silent as Potter went about his work and, when Potter began to walk back down the alley towards the Leaky Cauldron, he followed.

He had no plan, no devious scheme, he was just enrapt. They even made it half way towards the pub before Potter suddenly stopped and turned around.

"Who's there?" Potter asked plainly, eyes searching all over the street.

It turned out Potter was even better than his reputation, because Potter's eyes stopped directly on him.

"Come out where I can see you," Potter said, hand on his sleeve where Draco had no doubt there was a standard issue wand holster.

There was nothing for it now so he stepped into the pool of light one of the street lamps was giving.

"Malfoy?" Potter asked, relaxing almost instantly. "What are you doing lurking around Diagon Alley at this time of night?"

"I was planning on celebrating my birthday," he said, still having nothing that even resembled a Gryffindor plan, let alone a Slytherin one, "but your raid kind of got in the way."

"Yeah, well that raid got in everyone's way," Potter replied with an apologetic shrug; "complete waste of time; could have been done tomorrow morning with much less fuss. The club's open again now, though."

Draco couldn't help walking forward so he could smell more of that wonderful scent.

"I'm not interested in the club anymore," he said, not doing very well at controlling his new, peculiar impulses.

The smell coming from Potter really was amazing and he licked his lips; he so wanted to taste.

"Malfoy," Potter said, frowning at him; "are you wearing a glamour?"

Now Potter was one of the few people who had a right to be a paranoid bastard, because there were still several people out to kill him because of his defeat of the Dark Lord. People wearing glamours in dark alleys probably wasn't a good thing in Potter's book, so Draco cancelled his because he didn't want Potter to go away. It made sense at the time he did it, but the way Potter gasped made his brain come online a little more.

"Malfoy, what the hell?" Potter asked, wand almost instantly in hand.

"Hereditary vampire," he said, really hoping Potter wasn't going to try and arrest him; "happened tonight. I'm really thirsty and you smell really good."

To his surprise Potter did not instantly ask him what that was; seemed Auror training was better than he expected.

"Malfoy, focus," Potter said rather unexpectedly and it brought him up a little short.

He blinked and realised what he was doing, freezing a couple of feet from his prey.

"Um," he said, not wanting to move forward, but unable to move back.

"This happened tonight," Potter asked, "and you haven't fed yet?"

He nodded, about all he could do as he felt mortification begin to set in; Potter would never let him forget this and would probably throw him in a cell for his own good. He didn't know what he'd been thinking.

"Why are you stalking me?" Potter wanted to know, not an unreasonable question. "There are plenty of people back at the club and I'm sure one of them would be willing."

"You really do smell very, very good," Draco said, not bothering to try and lie; he didn't want Potter to get the wrong idea.

"I would have thought you would have prepared better for this," Potter said, looking him over and still not lowering his wand; "from what I know of Hereditary vampires it can only happen at two times in your life."

Draco almost laughed at that.

"Didn't know it was going to happen, didn't have a clue," he replied, too needy to pretend otherwise.

What he really should be doing was turning round and heading back to the club and finding a nice, nubile young thing who was interested in kinky sex, but his feet were rooted to the spot.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" were Potter's next words and it was incredibly embarrassing, but Draco had no choice but to admit the truth with a nod.

Potter shook his head and rolled his eyes and then, to his shock, stepped up to him and took hold of his arm. Before he realised what was happening he felt the familiar sensation of slide along Aparation and Diagon Alley vanished. He expected to find himself in the Ministry and on the way to the Auror section, but, when he looked around, was shocked to see a rather small kitchen.

"Sit down," Potter said simply, indicating one of the chairs; "I can't just let you run around. I'll be back in a moment."

Draco was so confused he actually did as he was told; he had no idea what was going on. Looking around he noticed all the signs of a bachelor's kitchen and he could come to only one conclusion; he was in Potter's home. Potter reappeared a couple of minutes after he had come to this realisation, Auror robes gone and jeans and t-shirt in their place. Draco almost purred at the sight; Potter had turned out to be what could only be described as buff.

"Do you always eat people with your eyes like that, or am I special?" Potter asked and Draco realised he was staring.

He almost said 'You're special', but caught himself in time. The whole not being in control thing was really beginning to get to him.

"Wow, you really are having trouble, aren't you?" Potter said, looking at him closely.

It was humiliating, but he had to agree; "yes."

There wasn't a lot else he could say; not when his mind could not seem to get off the whole smell issue.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Potter said after a moment, "but if I give you some blood will it bring you back to your senses?"

Draco blinked; that was more than a little unexpected.

"Why would you do that?" he asked, his Slytherin tendencies kicking back in just at what could possibly have been considered the wrong moment.

"Because I'd rather not wake up tomorrow to the headline that you are in custody for jumping someone else," Potter replied with a grin that said he saw the irony of the situation.

Potter really was a complete Gryffindor.

"Blood can be tricky between wizards," Draco said, at least remembering that much; "if you just give it to me it might cause a debt between us. I'd rather trade."

That made Potter lift one eyebrow at him and he suspected Potter knew what he was suggesting.

"What would you like to trade?" Potter asked nevertheless.

"Sex?" Draco said, since it was supposed to be the usual currency.

He had always wondered what it would be like to get Potter in bed; he had heard a couple of rumours since Potter's breakup with his fiancé.

"You're offering sex in return for blood?" Potter said, just standing there and looking delicious.

"Think of it as mutual pleasure," Draco replied, growing in confidence since Potter hadn't turned him down outright; "I get blood and get you off; a trade. I would have suggested a blow job, but I'm not too sure about these fangs yet, but I am very good with my hands."

His nose picked up a shift in the delicious smell coming from Potter and he liked it even more.

"I can tell you're interested," he said, sitting forward in his seat, "and I am very discrete."

"Bites heal quickly, but they still take at least two days to fade," Potter pointed out; clearly his knowledge was extensive, but then vampires were considered dark creatures so it wasn't overly surprising.

"Then I'll just have to pick somewhere that doesn't show," Draco said, deciding to take control.

Potter was leaning against the side board and Draco stood up and took the couple of steps to bring them all but nose to nose.

"How about here?" he asked and ran the tips of his fingers over Potter's inside thigh. "No one will ever know."

He felt the smallest of tremors run through Potter and he watched the other man's pupils begin to dilate.

"Okay," Potter said, a little breathlessly and Draco smiled.

Without any futher ado he slid to his knees; it wasn't as if it was the first time he'd done something similar, and he popped the button on Potter's jeans. The zip slipped down just as easily and then he gathered the waistband of Potter's jeans and boxers in his hands and pulled downwards. The half hard cock that bobbed free of the material as it descended showed only too clearly that Potter was definitely up for the whole escapade.

"My, my," Draco said at the sight, feeling much more with it now he was getting what he wanted; "you're a big boy aren't you, Potter. I never realised what those robes were hiding or I might have visited earlier."

Draco quite liked blow jobs, both giving and receiving and he would have liked to have taken that cock into his mouth, but he really wasn't sure about the fangs, so he wrapped his fingers around it instead. The sharp intake of breath and the way Potter gripped the edge of the sideboard was nice to see and Draco slowly stroked the other man to full hardness. His own cock wanted to respond, he could feel it, but he could not feel the familiar sensation of getting hard and it occurred to him that he probably needed the blood first.

The wonderful smell seemed to permeate all the way through his senses now that he had Potter so close and he was more thirsty than ever. He hoped that with practice he could draw out what he was doing, but he did not have the patience right then and he found a rhythm that seemed to do it for Potter and stuck with it. Potter was definitely into the whole thing, because it didn't take very long at all before he recognised the signs that said Potter was almost there. With his free hand he pulled Potter's clothes even lower and urged Potter's legs apart, pushing one knee up so that he had access to Potter's inner thigh. His mouth was literally watering and, as he stroked Potter firmly, he leant in and swiped his tongue across Potter's pale skin, tasting him for the first time. He heard himself moan at the promise that taste gave him, but he held back, bringing Potter back to the edge with his hand after the disruption of moving. Looking up, he could see Potter's eyes were closed and his head was back and there was that look on his face Draco had seen so many times on other men; the one that spoke of the chase to ecstasy.

That was all Draco needed and he felt his fangs growing more as he opened his mouth and, for the first time in his life, bit down into human flesh. He heard Potter give a strangled cry, felt come hit the side of his face, but before he could make sense of any of it the most incredible flavour hit his tongue and his senses were carried away on a wave of bliss. It was honestly like nothing he had ever experienced; not like eating, not like sex, not even like doing magic. He drank and felt life entering him and it satisfied him in ways he had never dreamed of being satisfied.

Time didn't have a lot of meaning as the experience seemed to stretch out within him, but it could not have been long before he found himself withdrawing his fangs and licking shut the wound, because Potter was still shuddering from the after effects of his orgasm. It had felt so much longer, but then he'd had some orgasms like that in his time as well, only this was so completely different that it lived in a whole other place in his head.

Very gently he let Potter's leg lower back down, but other than that he didn't move, he just knelt there looking up until Potter's bright green eyes finally opened and looked down at him. There was still hunger in that gaze; hunger and just a little bit of surprise, especially since Draco still had his fingers wrapped around Potter's cock.

"Harry," he said, very deliberately choosing his onetime rival's first name, "maybe we should take this to the bedroom?"

He hadn't actually thought much past the blood before, but now he was and now he found himself hungry for something else entirely. It probably wasn't wise; having sex with Gryffindors always led to complications, but it was his birthday; he deserved a treat.

The End