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hpvampTitle: Sliver of Red
Authort:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
khateh
Pairing: Al/Scorpius
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and I'm not making any profit from this.
Original request/Bunny: Scorpius and Al have been best friends ever since they were both sorted into Slytherin. Draco had come to like Al even though he still couldn't stand Harry. For Scorpius' seventeenth birthday, Draco reluctantly let him travel with Al. There was a vampire attack, Al was injured and Scorpius was turned.
Draco was not best pleased, to say the least. To Harry's horror, Al offered to "take responsibility" and become Scorpius' blood supply.
Notes: Many thanks to Mona for her help.
Sliver of Red
There was a knock at the door and Scorpius closed the book, its old, leather cover rough against his skin as he tapped it lightly with his fingers. There was another knock, a bit louder than the first.
He could ignore it and let his father walk away, but then he’d worry and he didn’t need that.
“Come in,” he said, and watched as the door was opened slowly.
“Am I disturbing you?”
Scorpius’ father was tall and had it not been for the lines on his face and the pallor brought by worry and torment, he would have been good looking. Had things gone differently, he would have had power and would have been feared by some and followed by many.
“No, Father, I was reading.” Scorpius set the book on the coffee table and got up from his armchair.
“Did you find anything useful?” Draco Malfoy’s voice was low and a bit tired, but interested. He walked to the coffee table and deposited two letters and a goblet on it.
“The usual things.” His eyes drifted to the goblet, full of the red liquid that the book said he was lusting for. Scorpius felt no lust for blood, nor did he feel invigorated after drinking it; all he felt was a hollowness that nothing could fill.
“You have two letters,” his father said, glancing at the table. “They arrived an hour ago, but I… I waited.”
In another life, or maybe for another man, his father wouldn’t have used small words to conceal sacrifices. But his father was doing this for him, and damned be the Malfoy pride, Draco Malfoy didn’t think any sacrifice too small.
In acknowledgment to his father’s words, he took the goblet and sipped the blood, trying to block the taste, the smell, the knowledge that he was drinking his father’s blood.
“I spoke with Father,” Draco said when Scorpius placed the empty goblet back on the table. “I told him about what happened and he said he’s proud of you for being strong.”
Scorpius nodded. He hadn’t expected anything else.
“The letters are from the Ministry and the Potions Division,” his father added.
Scorpius took the Ministry letter and opened it, walking closer to the window.
It had taken his father a day to prepare this room, with the magical window and the custom made furniture that would easily change to accommodate his needs. He could have done with a bed and a desk, but his father had insisted for comfort. As if having a big bed would help him sleep better.
Mr. Malfoy,
The Ministry has conducted an investigation about the circumstances in which you became a vampire on the 7th of August, in Paris.
Our investigation determined that you are not accountable for your afflictions, nor are you responsible for the wounds inflicted on Mr. Albus Severus Potter.
Therefore, the Ministry declares you free of charge, with the following restrictions imposed by your condition:
1. You may not have any encounters with witches or wizards other than your relatives without their prior written agreement.
2. You may not force any witches or wizards to give you their blood.
3. You may not use any means to persuade other witches or wizards to give you their blood.
Breaking any of these rules will result in your immediate imprisonment in Azkaban.
Stella Threwton,
Division for Magical Creatures,
Ministry for Magic
“They decided I’m innocent.”
His father answered with a snort.
Scorpius opened the other letter and skimmed it. He already knew what it contained – a notice that Suppomirua, the potion which could be used a blood substitute for up to five days in a row, was available to him in exchange to five hundred Galleons per dose.
“Can you brew the Suppomirua?” he asked his father after folding the letter.
“I can, but I will not.” Draco crossed his arms and glared at Scorpius. “As long as our current arrangement works, I will not endanger you by giving you that potion.”
It was said to have all kinds of effects, from hair loss to pain and even unconsciousness. He was willing to give it a try, but his father was determined not to give him the opportunity. It was just unfortunate that Scorpius wasn’t good enough at potions to try it himself.
It was Al who knew how to brew and what to do during Potions class, and since that awful night in Paris, Scorpius hadn’t seen him at all. And that… that hurt more than anything.
He only had himself to blame for waiting for so long. He only had himself to blame for not saying what he needed to say and not doing what he needed to do and losing Al before he’d had the chance to have him and –
“There’s something else.” Draco took a little package from his pocket and with a wand tap restored it to its original size, which was as big as an unrolled parchment and two inches thick. “It’s from Albus.”
Scorpius quickly took the package from his father and set it on the table. He willed his fingers to stop trembling and opened it.
There was a note on top of everything else, written in Headmistress McGonagall’s tidy script.
As per Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s request, the contents of this parcel were checked and the only personal note attached is the one on this page.
Scorpius’ eyes drifted to the bottom of the page.
Dear Scorp,
You have here my essays and tests. I hope they’ll be useful and that you’ll take the NEWTs this summer.
Yours,
Al
Scorpius wanted to cry and scream and break everything. He set the note on the table and closed his eyes. He heard his father taking the notes, his snort at reading McGonagall’s note and soft sigh at reading Al’s.
“You will, won’t you?”
His father hoped that one day, people would understand that walking next to a vampire – as much as any of them walked during the night – wouldn’t harm them. They would understand that vampires didn’t lust for blood, nor did they feel the need to coerce others into giving it.
Scorpius thought his father was a fool.
But maybe he was the fool. “I will.”
“Let’s look at these.” He had started with the Potions essays and Scorpius opened his eyes to see his awed expression. “I never thought a son of Potter’s would be able to write a passable Potions essay.”
“Oh, you should see his Charms essays.”
What they spent most time on were the Divination essays, where Al enjoyed predicting how his brother was going to turn into a criminal and attack the Ministry. When all the essays were properly inspected, Draco got up from the chair and took the wrapping paper.
“I’ll leave you to the essays and –” as he turned the paper in his hands a thud was heard from under it. “I think there was something else in the package.”
Scorpius felt heat rise in his face. Surely Al wouldn’t have… he kneeled on the floor and moved his fingers on the carpet until they touched the soft material. He closed his fingers around it and got up.
“It’s his Invisibility cloak, his father’s, actually, but his now.” He slowly untangled it and revealed a note on top of a mirror.
It was a nice gesture, but the thought that Al didn’t consider this through hurt. He opened the note.
I hope you have enough room for me in that Manor of yours, because I will come after the exams are over, whether my father disinherits me for doing so or not. Until then, please look into the mirror.
“He’ll come,” Scorpius whispered, and Draco smiled, somewhere between pride and happiness.
Scorpius turned the mirror so he could look into the side that would have reflected his image had he been human. He didn’t have the time to think about what it felt like to see the ceiling instead of his reflected face, because Al’s face appeared in the mirror, grinning broadly.
“Hey, Scorp.”
Authort:
khatehPairing: Al/Scorpius
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and I'm not making any profit from this.
Original request/Bunny: Scorpius and Al have been best friends ever since they were both sorted into Slytherin. Draco had come to like Al even though he still couldn't stand Harry. For Scorpius' seventeenth birthday, Draco reluctantly let him travel with Al. There was a vampire attack, Al was injured and Scorpius was turned.
Draco was not best pleased, to say the least. To Harry's horror, Al offered to "take responsibility" and become Scorpius' blood supply.
Notes: Many thanks to Mona for her help.
Sliver of Red
There was a knock at the door and Scorpius closed the book, its old, leather cover rough against his skin as he tapped it lightly with his fingers. There was another knock, a bit louder than the first.
He could ignore it and let his father walk away, but then he’d worry and he didn’t need that.
“Come in,” he said, and watched as the door was opened slowly.
“Am I disturbing you?”
Scorpius’ father was tall and had it not been for the lines on his face and the pallor brought by worry and torment, he would have been good looking. Had things gone differently, he would have had power and would have been feared by some and followed by many.
“No, Father, I was reading.” Scorpius set the book on the coffee table and got up from his armchair.
“Did you find anything useful?” Draco Malfoy’s voice was low and a bit tired, but interested. He walked to the coffee table and deposited two letters and a goblet on it.
“The usual things.” His eyes drifted to the goblet, full of the red liquid that the book said he was lusting for. Scorpius felt no lust for blood, nor did he feel invigorated after drinking it; all he felt was a hollowness that nothing could fill.
“You have two letters,” his father said, glancing at the table. “They arrived an hour ago, but I… I waited.”
In another life, or maybe for another man, his father wouldn’t have used small words to conceal sacrifices. But his father was doing this for him, and damned be the Malfoy pride, Draco Malfoy didn’t think any sacrifice too small.
In acknowledgment to his father’s words, he took the goblet and sipped the blood, trying to block the taste, the smell, the knowledge that he was drinking his father’s blood.
“I spoke with Father,” Draco said when Scorpius placed the empty goblet back on the table. “I told him about what happened and he said he’s proud of you for being strong.”
Scorpius nodded. He hadn’t expected anything else.
“The letters are from the Ministry and the Potions Division,” his father added.
Scorpius took the Ministry letter and opened it, walking closer to the window.
It had taken his father a day to prepare this room, with the magical window and the custom made furniture that would easily change to accommodate his needs. He could have done with a bed and a desk, but his father had insisted for comfort. As if having a big bed would help him sleep better.
Mr. Malfoy,
The Ministry has conducted an investigation about the circumstances in which you became a vampire on the 7th of August, in Paris.
Our investigation determined that you are not accountable for your afflictions, nor are you responsible for the wounds inflicted on Mr. Albus Severus Potter.
Therefore, the Ministry declares you free of charge, with the following restrictions imposed by your condition:
1. You may not have any encounters with witches or wizards other than your relatives without their prior written agreement.
2. You may not force any witches or wizards to give you their blood.
3. You may not use any means to persuade other witches or wizards to give you their blood.
Breaking any of these rules will result in your immediate imprisonment in Azkaban.
Stella Threwton,
Division for Magical Creatures,
Ministry for Magic
“They decided I’m innocent.”
His father answered with a snort.
Scorpius opened the other letter and skimmed it. He already knew what it contained – a notice that Suppomirua, the potion which could be used a blood substitute for up to five days in a row, was available to him in exchange to five hundred Galleons per dose.
“Can you brew the Suppomirua?” he asked his father after folding the letter.
“I can, but I will not.” Draco crossed his arms and glared at Scorpius. “As long as our current arrangement works, I will not endanger you by giving you that potion.”
It was said to have all kinds of effects, from hair loss to pain and even unconsciousness. He was willing to give it a try, but his father was determined not to give him the opportunity. It was just unfortunate that Scorpius wasn’t good enough at potions to try it himself.
It was Al who knew how to brew and what to do during Potions class, and since that awful night in Paris, Scorpius hadn’t seen him at all. And that… that hurt more than anything.
He only had himself to blame for waiting for so long. He only had himself to blame for not saying what he needed to say and not doing what he needed to do and losing Al before he’d had the chance to have him and –
“There’s something else.” Draco took a little package from his pocket and with a wand tap restored it to its original size, which was as big as an unrolled parchment and two inches thick. “It’s from Albus.”
Scorpius quickly took the package from his father and set it on the table. He willed his fingers to stop trembling and opened it.
There was a note on top of everything else, written in Headmistress McGonagall’s tidy script.
As per Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s request, the contents of this parcel were checked and the only personal note attached is the one on this page.
Scorpius’ eyes drifted to the bottom of the page.
Dear Scorp,
You have here my essays and tests. I hope they’ll be useful and that you’ll take the NEWTs this summer.
Yours,
Al
Scorpius wanted to cry and scream and break everything. He set the note on the table and closed his eyes. He heard his father taking the notes, his snort at reading McGonagall’s note and soft sigh at reading Al’s.
“You will, won’t you?”
His father hoped that one day, people would understand that walking next to a vampire – as much as any of them walked during the night – wouldn’t harm them. They would understand that vampires didn’t lust for blood, nor did they feel the need to coerce others into giving it.
Scorpius thought his father was a fool.
But maybe he was the fool. “I will.”
“Let’s look at these.” He had started with the Potions essays and Scorpius opened his eyes to see his awed expression. “I never thought a son of Potter’s would be able to write a passable Potions essay.”
“Oh, you should see his Charms essays.”
What they spent most time on were the Divination essays, where Al enjoyed predicting how his brother was going to turn into a criminal and attack the Ministry. When all the essays were properly inspected, Draco got up from the chair and took the wrapping paper.
“I’ll leave you to the essays and –” as he turned the paper in his hands a thud was heard from under it. “I think there was something else in the package.”
Scorpius felt heat rise in his face. Surely Al wouldn’t have… he kneeled on the floor and moved his fingers on the carpet until they touched the soft material. He closed his fingers around it and got up.
“It’s his Invisibility cloak, his father’s, actually, but his now.” He slowly untangled it and revealed a note on top of a mirror.
It was a nice gesture, but the thought that Al didn’t consider this through hurt. He opened the note.
I hope you have enough room for me in that Manor of yours, because I will come after the exams are over, whether my father disinherits me for doing so or not. Until then, please look into the mirror.
“He’ll come,” Scorpius whispered, and Draco smiled, somewhere between pride and happiness.
Scorpius turned the mirror so he could look into the side that would have reflected his image had he been human. He didn’t have the time to think about what it felt like to see the ceiling instead of his reflected face, because Al’s face appeared in the mirror, grinning broadly.
“Hey, Scorp.”
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