Burning Eyes

*Pulls the strings on my imaginary marionettes* Yes, I know. I don't own them. Just playing with them for a bit.

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I lay awake all that night, pondering events. I wanted her. She wanted me. We could not have each other. It was so Shakespearean and a completely untenable situation. As soon as it was first light, I threw on the first thing I could and went to see the one person who knew more about the dark arts than anyone else I could think of.



Yes. I went to see Lucius.



I know, I know. He would laugh his fool head off, but I had to try.



I stood there in the weak morning sun, shivering my arse off and contemplating whether or not to cast a Warming Charm when the door was finally answered by a house elf. The little green knobbly ushered me inside where the heat from a half-dozen fireplaces greeted me.



"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Mother's voice tinkled down the stairs ahead of her. She fairly glided down to the hall. Not as smoothly as Hermione - stop. Don't go down that route.



"I came to see Father. I need to ask him about something."



"Gracious. It must be serious to come out here at this time of morning. Usually you can't be roused before ten a.m." She gave me a concerned look. "Is everthing alright, son?"



"Not yet, but it could be."



"Mind telling me what it is?" Nosy woman. But then most mothers are.



"Not at present and definitely not if I can't solve the problem."



"Ah." She looked at me sagely. "Woman troubles."



"Of a sort." I looked chagrined. Was I that transparent?



"Well, if you ever want the true story on the opposite sex, you know where to find me." She set off down the hall. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

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I'd inherited my dislike for mornings from Lucius. He couldn't be awakened before eight, at the earliest. So, Mother and I ate and spoke of trivial things. She kept trying to pry but I remained tight-lipped. I went to get another rasher of bacon when a little tinkling bell went off and a house-elf appeared to begin filling a plate with all sorts of savouries from the buffet.



"He's awake. Finally." I looked up to the ceiling, as if Lucius were God.



"If you're that impatient, go ahead. Just don't come whinging to me when you get your head served to you on a platter."



I flashed her my most insouciant grin. "I won't, Mummy."



My parents' apartment was situated in a corner of the house, therefore they had excellent views of the grounds and surrounding countryside. I opened the door and went through the drawing room and into the bedroom proper.



Lucius was propped up in grey satin sheets and brocaded pillows. The very lap of luxury. I thought about my little flat in the City and almost groaned aloud. He was sipping on a cup of what had to be hand-ground coffee which was roasted to perfection. He wouldn't have expected anything less.



He raised an eyebrow at me in that superior way of his. It was slightly reminiscent of Hermione's habit of doing the same. Both of them were predators and they knew it. Damn them.



"Well?" he asked impatiently.



"Good morning to you, too, Father."



"Yes, yes. Get on with it Draco. I haven't had a chance to read the dailies yet." He curtly waved me into a chair and forked up a bit of scrambled eggs.



"I need to know if there's a way to reverse vampirism."



What wouldn't I give to see that look on Lucius's face again. He choked on his eggs as his eyes went wide and he promptly went into a coughing fit. I got up and slapped him smartly between the shoulder blades.



"Reverse vampirism?"



"Yes. I didn't stutter."



"So it *is* true."



"It figures."



"Of course I still keep an eye on you, my boy. You are my only heir. Although with the way you run about, I wonder if your mother and I shouldn't try for another." He sipped his coffee. "And this latest incident wasn't exactly discreet. Do you know how many Muggles had to be Obliviated after she smashed through that window?"



"It couldn't have been that many. It was early - 3am."



"They weren't many but there were enough." He gave me a censuring look.



"Do you know how to do it or don't you?" I was the impatient one now and not particularly in the mood for a friggin' lecture.



" I don't know how to do it myself. But I can put you in contact with someone who could," Lucius replied laconically.



"Well?" I was getting huffy and not particularly keen on his little games today.



"Go to Emmanuel Borgin."



"That old charlatan?" I couldn't believe it. After all his insipid toying with me, that's all Lucius could come up with?



"Borgin may be a charlatan, but he's also bloody well steeped in the Dark Arts. And this is dark stuff indeed!"



"I'd just as soon talk to Severus' portrait if that's the case."



"He didn't have a portrait done, the stupid half-breed."



"Damn." It seemed as if I'd have to fool with Borgin after all.

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I walked into Borgin and Burke's remembering the times when I was there as a child and later on, a doomed teenaged Death Eater. I still shuddered when I thought about that night on the parapet of Hogwarts. Pushing aside those thoughts, I looked around at the myriad of curiousities loaded onto every shelf. Neither Borgin nor Burke were in sight.



The place was thick with grime and dust. Not a window was open or clean, giving the shop an appropriately ominous air. I stepped on a squeaky floorboard and up popped Borgin from behind the counter. Seemed that the man had been taking a nap in lieu of having to serve any actual customers. His beady little eyes lit up at the sight of me.



"Ah! Young Master Malfoy! It's been far, far too long. What might I help you with? Pre-brewed Polyjuice? Murderous wands? A new cabinet?" He slipped that one in with a sly glance my way. It was all I could do not to wrap my hand around his wrinkled fucking neck.



"None of that today, Borgin." I took an internal breath. "I need to know how to go about reversing a case of vampirism."



That stopped the maniacal grinning of the old fool. "I don't think I heard you right."



"Yes, you did you slimy little toad. How does one do it?"



"Very carefully, if it's to be done at all." He shed his foolish exterior as he slipped on a pair of specs that sat on the end of his hooked nose. In that instant I noticed that he looked like the dirty old man version of Dumbledore. Quite disconcerting, that. He ambled over to one of the shelves that were in stacks behind the counter and began reading the spines of the books.



"Vampirism is a tricky thing. Some think it's a disease to be cured, others think it's a lifelong affliction." I'd never had the opportunity to listen to Borgin when he was in lecture mode. Fascinating, really. "Still, what most of the texts agree on is that when one wants to retract a case of vampirism in a certain person, you have to kill the vampire that did it."



"Damn." I had been afraid of that. A trip to Sri Lanka was not what I had been planning for.



"There are others, one in particular, that claim to have found a slightly more advanced "cure" for the curse."



"Which is?"



"A potion."



"Great. Sell me the formula and the ingredients."



"Not so fast, young Malfoy."



"Oh, what is it?" I asked in annoyance.



"Do you have the slightest idea of what you're contemplating?"



"I don't care. I need to do it - and soon." I was thinking of Hermione, trapped in between worlds and how I wanted her in mine.



"You're going to be breaking an ancient code. There are those who wouldn't want to see her leave them, whoever she is. Then, too, how would you explain how she came back to 'life' as it were? Publicity is never a good thing when it comes to situations such as these. You'd be on the run for the rest of your sorry little life." He paused while I took that in. "Besides, there's another way, an easier way, to remedy the situation."



Borgin smiled slyly as my muddled mind comprehended what he was saying.



"I'm not going to let her turn me."



"And why not?" He sounded a little affronted.



"Because I've no wish to be a blood-sucking demon from hell."



"Pity. The contrast would be delicious. On the outside, an archangel and on the inside, pure Lucifer."



"I grew up with the Devil himself, I'm not going to become him." I had run out of patience. "Sell me the formula. Now."



"If you can pull this off, I'll give it to you." He grinned nastily and plucked a slim vellum folder from the stacks.



I took it from him and flipped over the first set of papers. I looked up at Borgin, incredulous. "There's more than thirty sheets here."



"That's right. And it's not guaranteed. I told you what the most reliable method would be. But I think you're a little chicken for that, aren't you?"



"I'll do what I must." And I took the folder and left.

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About two hours later I had to admit that I was completely flummoxed. And that is not a word I would ever use in conjunction with myself. I'd never seen anything as complex as this and that's saying something. There were only two people that could've possibly helped me with this and one was dead. The other...she'd melted off into the night. Who knew when I would see her again?



However, I do know that when I did, and I would, I would have to be ready with it. This cure. How would we explain it to her friends? Teachers? The rest of them. She'd be a spectacle, a curiousity to be stared and whispered at. At least in the Wizarding world. Who knew what they would make of it in the Muggle world. They could always claim a case of mistaken identity. But those greedy goblins she'd worked for would want a return on the gold they'd poured into the coffers of the bereaved.



Christ. What a mess.



Then again, after Voldemort's return, I don't think much could shock our world anymore. The Dark Lord was supposedly dead, and then he wasn't. What would be another one returning to life? At least this time it would be one of the paragons of Society. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a hard thing to deal with after all. Then, too, there was the fact that, on occasion, vampires moved freely through the darker areas of Wizarding world.



I reminded myself that I was a decent potions student and that even though it would take time and effort, I could pull it off. And then she would be mine. Flesh and blood and bone. I set to work immediately.