hpvamp | Fic: Bonds of Blood (Prequel to Companions in the Dark, R), PG-13

Both "Bonds of Blood" and "Companions in the Dark" are also available to read on my lj, but you'll need to be added to my friends list in order to access them or any future fics I'll be writing in this universe. Please just comment here or on my lj to ask to be added ;)

Title: Bonds of Blood (Prequel to Companions in the Dark)
Author:

yura_slash
Wordcount: 3583
Pairing: Harry/Draco (in next part)
Rating: PG-13 (R in next part)
Warnings: minor vampiric bloodlust
Summary: Severus sends Draco to the only place that he can be safe.
Author’s Note: The original story Companions in the Dark was written for the

hd_worldcup. I was a part of Team Fanon and, as an alternate, did not have as much time to work on my submission as I'd have liked. Here's hoping that people are still interested in my story, and want to know what preceded the events in the original. I'll probably work with this universe a lot more in the future.

Bonds of Blood

What's going on?

Draco can hear a sound—a wet, sucking sound—and feel something odd pulling at his neck.

And his eyelids are heavy. Something strokes against his bare chest and he tries to open his eyes, but it's impossible. He feels so tired . . .

"Wha −" he moans, and the strange feeling in his neck intensifies for a moment before disappearing.

A breath breaks against his ear and then a man's voice—a low, sinister voice that makes Draco wish he were still unconscious—whispers into the shell of his ear. "Awake, are you? I'm surprised . . ." A dark chuckle is exhaled across his face and Draco struggles against the arms he can now feel tightening around him.

"Nuh-nuh-no!" he cries out weakly, pathetically.

The arms around him tighten further and Draco's eyes finally manage to flutter open.

"How delightful! And you have such beautiful eyes!"

Draco is struck, first by the dark red eyes staring into his, and then by the blood-smeared mouth and glistening fangs below them, hovering over him. "Ohhhhh . . ." he moans in fear, and renews his pathetic struggling.

"You want to live, do you?" the vampire asks, amusement in his voice.

Draco whimpers and the vampire smiles in response, before licking his lips clean of Draco's blood lasciviously.

"You are very beautiful. And your magic must be strong if you can struggle against me, even now. It makes me regret drinking from you while you were still unconscious."

A hand, colder than the most bitter winter wind, strokes his face, and Draco resists the urge to whimper again.

"Such a great find you were, lying unconscious in that alley after being jumped like a common Muggle. Your blood is so delicious . . ." the vampire lowers his head and sinks his teeth into Draco's neck again and Draco cries out weakly.

This can't be happening! As the vampire drinks greedily of Draco's blood, Draco pushes against his strong upper body, too weak to deter him, but still resistant.

It is useless. The vampire groans in pleasure as Draco writhes against him, and Draco answers with his own groan of defeat.

I'm going to die . . . He can feel his heart slowing. Maybe if I stop fighting against it, my last moments of life can be filled with pleasure instead of pain. He takes one last shaky breath, Mother . . . Father . . . I couldn't . . . and then Draco lets go of his fear and loathing and just feels . . .

It's like flipping a switch. The sudden shock of pleasure is almost too much, and he lets out a breathy moan.

The teeth leave his neck in an instant. Draco is panting, heady with desire, and bloody lips press against his own and steal his breath away.

"Oh God . . . this is . . . this is . . ." the vampire is panting now, too, lost in the pleasure that has mounted between them. Draco can feel the other man's hard cock against his arse, and knows that he is just as hard and wanting. "They always said a wizard's blood was the strongest elixir, but this . . . it's so much more! I feel so strong . . . I feel alive!"

Magic is bouncing between them, trying to find a resting place, but unable. It's as if something needs to be done. Something . . .

But Draco can feel himself fading. The vampire has drunk too greedily from him already, and he's slipping . . . the magic is dissipating . . .

"No!" the vampire shrieks, and then he is turning his fangs on himself, tearing into the flesh of his wrist. He's balancing Draco's limp, cooling body in his lap and holding his bloody wrist to Draco's lips and telling him to drink. He’s telling him to stay with him. To stay with him forever.

And some strange compulsion—some last wish for life, no matter how damned—has Draco drinking from the vampire's offered wrist. He sucks the cursed blood down and when the change comes upon him minutes later, he's consumed by pain.

**********

When Draco awakes, he finds himself clutched tightly to the vampire's chest. He’s still bare-chested, but his pants and trousers are on thank Merlin. The other man is asleep and very cold, though they are somewhere soft and warm. A bed? It's too dark to see.

Draco stirs a little bit, trying to loosen the vampire's grip on him, and manages to gain some freedom of movement without waking him. A million questions race through his head. Where am I? What time is it? What day is it? What . . . why can I smell things so, well? Draco can smell the lingering scents of fear and arousal and spilt blood. And, pressed as he is against the vampire in bed with him, he can smell the blood moving sluggishly through his veins. It calls to him. I want to . . .

It's all Draco can do not to scream in horror as he feels his canine teeth elongating, growing sharp. Oh Merlin! Oh . . . oh Merlin, no! I'm . . . I'm a vampire! A dark creature! Cursed! Damned! Despite the anxiety mounting inside him, Draco begins to wriggle out of other man's grasp as slowly and quietly as possible. Can I escape? Could it be this simple? To escape while he’s asleep . . . is it daylight? Can I even go outside?

The other man doesn't stir as Draco leaves his arms, and Draco edges off the bed and lands with bare feet on the floor, as silent as a cat.

He feels . . . stealthier than before. More agile. When he finally finds the door out of the room he's in, he crushes the knob in his frantic grip, bending metal with his fingers alone.

So I’m stronger, too. But damned. Still damned. Even though I don’t feel like a monster now, it’s only a matter of time before I become one. The hunger will turn me into a monster, one that should be exterminated, just like Father always said. Father . . . will he want me killed, as well? His own son?

Draco banishes such thoughts. I need to escape before I can worry about anything else. The vampire wants to keep me here, I know it. And the magic before, it was trying to pull us together . . .

Draco darts out of the room and finds himself at the end of a dimly lit hallway. He pulls the door to the bedroom closed behind him softly and proceeds down the hall, swiftly but silently. There are no windows, and all of the doors leading off the hallway are closed, except for one at the end. It's an open doorway leading into what seems like a kitchen. Light is coming from there.

Out. Out. Have to get out. Have to get out now, before it’s too late!

He is in the kitchen. A small living room is to his right. A door Out is to his left. The only light is from a single candle that flickers on the kitchen table, so low that the flame seems to be resting on a small puddle. At second glance he sees his wand, his precious wand, is resting next to it, and he snatches it up before moving towards the door, ready to escape this place . . .

he takes a step back.

What am I . . .?

He takes two steps forward, his hand reaching for the doorknob . . .

and then pulls his hand away, as if burned, and retreats further. He hunches over the table and the dying flame at its center.

Why can't I leave?

It's a strange feeling that coils in the bottom of his stomach. It's the blood in his veins. He raises a wrist to his nose and smells . . .

His blood – it smells like the other man. The other vampire.

Sire . . . can't leave the Sire . . .

Draco shudders and grips the edge of the kitchen table.

Sire is important. Sire is family . . .

He's sweating now, leaning against the table, staring at the candle as it struggles not to be extinguished in its own melted wax. A strong compulsion to return to his Sire in his bed, to lay with him, threatens to overcome him.

Draco grits his teeth. No! He is not a part of me! He is not my family!

Wood splinters under his fingers and then he is pushing away from the table. Striding across the kitchen. Gripping the door knob. Stepping out . . .

Light assails him. Not direct, but still agony. He drops to his knees before he can muster the necessary determination to Apparate away. Somewhere dark . . . safe . . . He feels like he’s being squeezed, and he knows that he’s finally going, but where, he’s not sure.

**********

The pain is gone. Draco is reclined, again in a soft bed, but he is alone. It smells like musty herbs and molding things, with a fresh scent of mint overlying it all . . .

He opens his eyes. The room is dark except for a low light coming from underneath the door across from him, but it is enough to illuminate the entire room in Draco’s sight. Something about the room, and the scent in the air, is familiar . . .

Severus! It smells like Severus! And this must be a room in his house . . . I Apparated here?

He runs his hands over his body quickly: his naked chest, his arms, his groin. He moves his legs and wiggles his toes, but nothing seems amiss there, either. He must have made it safely to his destination, despite the extreme emotional stress and pain that he had been experiencing. Of course, I’ve always been an exceptional wizard.

He lets himself relax in the bed. He can feel his heart beating hard in his chest for a moment longer before it slows, his brief moment of panic passed.

All is still . . .

And then there’s movement. A shadow blocks the light from under the door, and Draco looks up. A sharp knock rings out, assailing his ears, followed by a familiar and very welcome voice.

“Draco, are you awake?”

Severus! Draco clears his throat, which feels dry, and answers in a hoarse rasp. “Yes – yes, I’m awake now.”

The door doesn’t open. “Are you coherent?”

Draco frowns. “Yes, I should think so!”

A key can be heard rattling in the lock, and then the doorknob turns. “One can never be too careful with a newly turned vampire, Draco,” Severus scolds, coming into the room slowly. He holds a goblet in his hand, and Draco can smell a sickly sweet odor coming from it.

He sits up quickly, licking his lips. “Is that . . . ?”

Severus holds the goblet out to him wordlessly. Draco notices that his stance is defensive: he’s presenting his side to make a smaller target, and his other hand is on his wand.

Draco narrows his eyes at him Is he a threat? but takes the goblet and gulps down the bloody potion it holds as quickly as possible. His teeth, sharp and seeking non-existent flesh, clang against the metal of the goblet as he swallows, and when it’s all gone his hunger, which he hadn’t been aware of until he’d smelled the goblet’s contents, is sated. He gives the goblet back to Severus and looks up at him solemnly. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

Severus sighs and then sits on the edge of the bed, goblet still in hand and obviously much more relaxed now that Draco’s quaffed the potion. “That is yet to be seen. That potion should keep the hunger at bay for at least a few days, so we can talk seriously about your situation without fear.” Draco nods. “As you can see,” Severus waves a hand, gesturing around the room, “you made it to my home in one piece.”

Another quick glance around the room and Draco realizes that he must be in Severus’ bed, as he’s never known the man to have a guest room in his small, dingy house.

“It’s nightfall now—you’ve been sleeping for five hours. I have no idea how you were able to wake up, much less Apparate, during the daylight hours, but at least you were able to escape whatever beast it was that Sired you. A Childe should not be able to leave his Sire so soon after turning; you should have felt a strong desire to stay with him or her, to learn what you could. I’m surprised by your strength in this case, Draco.”

Draco closes his eyes and exhales hard. I will not cry. Not now. Not when I’m already safe with Severus . . .

“Most newly turned vampires stay with their Sires years. Some decades. Some for an eternity.”

Draco’s eyes snap open. “No!” he cries out. “No! He was a monster! A beast! He wanted . . . He’s not my family! I want to be with my real family!”

Severus is staring at him with a stoic expression, but his eyes are wide, and Draco realizes that he’s crying. He wipes the tears from his face and licks his fingers dry. The taste is sweet—bloody. “You must not go into hysterics, Draco. You were lucky to escape him when you did, but now is not the time to mourn your old life. You must move somewhere else, somewhere safe, and soon.”

“Move somewhere safe? How can I not be safe here? Why do I have to leave?”

There’s a hint of a whine to his voice, and Severus moves closer to him on the bed and lays a hand on his shoulder. Draco finds the hand warm, and is comforted by the weight of it. “There are many reasons why you must leave here. The first of which is that you are already missed, though you have only been gone a mere two days. The Dark Lord is still not convinced of your loyalty, and such an absence is inexcusable. When he finds you here, and find you he would, you will be questioned, and he will discover what you are and then either kill you or use you for his own dark purposes.”

Draco swallows hard. “I’m not afraid of him. I am a loyal follower, and he would not –”

Severus’ grip on his shoulder tightens. “You are a dark creature! You are nothing to him, now! Or your father! Do you understand? Lucius will disown you the moment he learns of your turning.” Fresh, bloody tears are running down Draco’s face now, but Severus ignores them. “The second reason you cannot stay here is that your Sire will be searching for you. You share a bond now, and unless that bond is forcibly broken, he will always be able to find you, wherever you are and within a few days. Until we can determine how to break the bond, you must be somewhere that will render you completely undetectable. My home is not under the Fidelius Charm, but there are a few places I know of that are, and I can secure you passage to one.”

Draco is calming now, and he wipes his face once more and takes Severus’ hand, still on his shoulder, in his.

“I’d like to thank you, Severus, for your invaluable –”

“Hush!” Severus scolds him again, pulling his hand back and out of Draco’s grip. “There is no time for such social niceties now. The third reason you cannot stay here is that I need your help. Because you’ve found yourself in need of mine, I thought it only practical that we exchange favors.”

Draco’s eyes narrow and he tenses in anticipation. “What exactly do you need me to do?”

Severus stands. “Wait for me here a moment, there is something I must retrieve,” he says, before moving towards the door.

Draco nods and then turns to grab the pillows behind him so that he can rearrange them upright against the bed’s headboard. When he turns back and settles against them, he sees that Severus is still standing in the doorway, his back to him. “Severus?”

“There is much we need to discuss, and I am asking for your complete confidence in this, Draco. If you betray me . . .”

“I wouldn’t!” Draco exclaims. “After all you’ve done for me, how could I?”

Severus doesn’t answer, just leaves the room with a dramatic swish of his robes.

**********

“You’re joking.”

“No, Draco, I’m not.”

“Yes, Severus, you are. If you want me to betray –”

“Betray what? What has Voldemort ever done for you, except threaten the lives of yourself and your family! And what does it matter now, when your own survival necessitates that you go against that half-blood megalomaniac?!”

“Half-blood? Who are you calling a –”

“I’m sure you’ll hear plenty of information about the man you call “Lord” where you’re going, Draco. But now is not the time. Here is the diadem. You will deliver it to Potter. You will explain that it is from me, and that I am still acting as a double agent for the Order of the Phoenix. It is the only way you will get into Number 12 Grimmauld Place. And it is the only way you will escape your Sire. The only way you will escape the Dark Lord.”

“But won’t Father look for me? He’ll worry about me if I just disappear, and the Dark Lord may punish him or mother if he thinks I’ve betrayed him –”

“Don’t worry, Draco. I planned a way around that while you were sleeping. I’ll just need a few of your hairs –”

“And what? You’ll find a replacement for me? I’m sorry, but no one would be able to Polyjuice into me and then actually impersonate me for however long –”

“Of course not. They would only need to impersonate you long enough to die.”

“What . . . no. No, you’re joking.”

“I’m actually quite serious. I will be killing for you yet again, and this time I’ll be doing it in front of the Dark Lord and all of his followers, just so there’s no confusion.”

“But . . . me? You’d kill someone that looks like me? And Father wouldn’t allow it! He’d stop you –”

“No he wouldn’t, Draco, and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter. Now, if you’re feeling strong enough, you should get dressed. I have a spare cloak in the hall closet.”

“Y-yes, Severus. But –”

“Once you’re dressed, you should leave as soon as possible.”

“I understand, but Severus . . .”

“I’ll be waiting for you by the door.”

**********

It took a few minutes for Draco to compose himself—so many thoughts were running through his head—and then he was throwing back the bed covers and leaning over the side of the bed to find his shoes.

Of course, his shoes were nowhere to be seen. Whoever had jumped him behind the bar had probably taken those, as well as his wallet with all his Muggle money. The Muggle world was just as dangerous as his Father had always made it out to be . . . and apparently just as intolerant as the Wizarding world was of men coming out of gay bars with their lips kissed raw and their hair tossled.

He’d had such an eye-opening experience that night, but had it been worth it? He ran his tongue over his still-sharp canines and shuddered. He very much doubted it.

He walked out of Severus’ room, not bothering to straighten the bed, and turned to see Severus waiting for him by the front door of his house, cloak in hand.

“I shrank a pair of my shoes for you, as well, though Merlin knows I can hardly afford to buy another pair to replace them.”

Draco moved towards him, a sheepish smile on his face. “Thank you for your kindness, Severus. If I could pay you back, I would . . .”

Severus just waved a hand at him and waited for him to step into the simple pair of loafers before presenting him with a cloak, obviously secondhand.

Draco put his arms through its sleeves and clasped it at his neck with a smile, grateful for its high collar.

“Try not to rub against your neck, Draco. I applied a salve to the bite marks, but it’s still a bit tender.”

“Yes, okay.”

“Now give me a few of your hairs, and then secure the payment for your passage in your cloak’s inner pocket before you go.”

Draco eyes dropped to the floor and he nodded once, but he made no move to pluck out his hairs.

Severus sighed. “Draco, there is no time to delay. Your Sire is probably awake and beginning his search for you at this very moment.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Severus, I appreciate that you’ve always looked out for me. I just wish I could stay here with you . . .”

continued in: Companions in the Dark