Claimed

Authors Note: As you may have already seen (If you read any of my other stories), I'll be on vacation for a few days later this week extending into early next week, so I won't be able to update on those days. But don't pout just yet. Because of that, I'll be posting an extra chapter of each story before Thursday so that none of the stories get behind while I'm away. I'll have all the stories caught up to chapter 8 before I leave. yay! Thanks to my beta Alexandra as who is lovely as always.

Chapter 7 Inner Turmoil

The door to Harry’s bedroom flung open with a crash, but he didn’t flinch or even bother to look up. He had heard Draco’s storming footfalls several moments before.

“Draco,” he said, not putting away his novel or even deigning to look up at the fuming boy. He could tell he was angry because his breath was coming in heavy gasps and his heart was racing.

His voice quivered like a leaf with his anger. “I’ve just been to see Father.”

“And how is our dear father?” Harry asked, knowing full well his condition.

“Did you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” Harry answered, sill not looking up from his book and instead flipping a page as if he weren’t paying any attention to Draco at all.

Harry was still angry over the stunt he had pulled the previous evening at dinner, and on top of the scene he caused, having the audacity to blame Harry for it all going wrong. He may be in love with the boy, but he wasn’t going to let him traipse all over him.

“You know what!” he said, his voice raising just slightly, and shaking just a bit less.

“Do I?” Harry asked. He could smell a tinge of blood in the air and when he finally did look up noticed the boy was digging fingernails into his palm. “And what awful thing have you imagined that I’ve done now?” he asked calmly.

“Father’s magic is gone,” Draco spat.

Harry smiled sweetly. “Oh that?”

Draco stared at him incredulously. “Yes, that! How did you do it? I demand you reverse it this instant!”

“It’s only temporary,” he said with a casual wave of his hand, mimicking the one Draco had used at dinner the night before. “Beside, I won’t be reversing it. Father needs to learn not to tamper with people’s lives just because he can.”

Draco’s face turned to confusion. “You did it to teach him a lesson?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I would think you of all people would be aware of what he did to me.”

Draco nodded, slightly meeker than before. “You’re certain it’s only temporary?”

Harry nodded. “It will dispel after a couple weeks.”

“And it won’t hurt him? I’ll not have you inflict some malicious injury on my father just because of what he did to you,” Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance.

“I would never do anything to hurt our father,” he answered, putting extra emphasis on the word ‘our.’

He seemed to contemplate Harry for several moments and then finally nodded. “Well, then I think it’s brilliant and he deserves it,” he said finally shooting him a wicked grin.

Harry let his amusement show and smiled back at Draco. A second later and the boy’s eyes shifted a bit, watching Harry’s mouth with great interest, then he gasped lightly and fled the room.

Harry frowned and listened to his footsteps hasten down the corridor, wondering what in Merlin’s name had spooked him so badly.

--

Draco slammed the door to his own room and leaned heavily against it, still trying to catch his breath and quiet his traitorous thoughts.

He had originally gone in to tell the vampire off for what he had done to his father, to make demands and yell his disgust at him. In the end he found himself agreeing with the bloodsucker.

If it really were only temporary it was the least his father deserved for what he had done to that boy and his own family. He hadn’t intended on siding with the monster, though.

And he had seemed so different.

The first time he met him, the bloodsucker practically fawned all over him, drool and all. Draco despised it and wanted nothing more than the thing to be out of his home and out of his sight.

Then the incident in Draco’s bedroom had left him feeling both oddly aroused and deeply disturbed all at once. He’d felt an attraction to him that he couldn’t explain, but that didn’t mean he had to act on it.

The previous night at dinner, he was angry for no reason and not at the vampire but at his old potions professor. He had been touching the vampire, rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand possessively, like a lover would.

At first he thought that his anger toward the man was based on Snape’s ignorance, but at the mention of jealousy, he realized at once that it was true. Part of him, however deep and dark and tucked carefully away, wanted the vampire, wanted to be with him in every possible way. The thought of Snape taking his place, conversing with him, holding him, comforting him, kissing him…

He shuddered at his other thoughts, thoughts that had recently turned into dreams… erotic dreams. It was part of what fueled his loathing toward the vampire. He was of age, and had graduated from a prestigious wizarding school. Draco should be settling on an important career, courting women and starting a family.

Instead he was having dirty dreams about the vampire.

All of that was compacted and put away that afternoon, though, when he saw him again. He had seemed so oblivious of Draco’s existence. He looked as though he could care less that Draco was in his quarters.

Then he’d smiled at him, and Draco’s world had shattered. All of his hopes and dreams suddenly hung in balance and were hinging on that smile, on those lips, on Harry’s favor.

It was the ‘Harry’ that had finally broken his fragile mind. Thinking of him in any other manner suddenly seemed impossible, and he willed himself to stop, to go back to vampire, monster, bloodsucker, anything else.

He was a person now, a flesh and blood person here in his home and in his life, and Draco wanted him.

He felt lucky that the logical part of his mind had finally kicked in and sent Draco running. Who knows what he would have done if Harry had realized he could have had his way with him?

--

Harry fell into an easy routine over the next few weeks. He would take tea in his room every morning; liquids being the only thing his body would keep down, he would then read until lunch. The house elves would make sure the house was properly shuttered for Harry to leave his quarters and join Narcissa and Lucius for lunch.

In the evening he would usually do research about vampires and their culture and origins, and just after sundown he would take a stroll through the gardens. He missed his daytime walks with Narcissa most of all from his human life. It was always so warm and cheerful to walk through the flowers with his mother.

Draco rarely left his room while Harry roamed the manor, and was careful to avoid him when he did. It made Harry’s heart ache to know the person he was most attracted to in the whole world hated him so purely.

He only saw Draco against his will, waiting until he could hear the boy fall to sleep and then skulking into his room. It felt wrong to watch him this way, so angelic and vulnerable, but he felt he had little choice.

To be separated from him was physically painful, and he could not handle it. His nightly voyeurism gave him at least a slight reprieve.

He wished he could lay with him, instead of perching on the edge of his bed. He wished he could run his pale fingers through Draco’s delicate blonde hair and he wished he could kiss his soft pink lips.

Normally he slept peacefully, lying with his arm curled gently under his pillow and facing the empty place beside him. Harry would imagine himself occupying that empty space and feeling Draco’s breath ghost across his skin.

Sometimes he would wrestle fitfully with nightmares and toss in his sleep. Harry wanted to reach out and comfort him, and sometimes if they went on to long, he would go to Draco’s side and sing softly to him, and the boy would relax and fall back into a gentle sleep.

The times Harry found the most difficult were when Draco would cry out and moan with pleasure in his sleep, obviously deep within the throws of passion with some unknown paramour. It was nearly impossible to resist touching him during those moments, as the boy writhed on the bed and exposed pale naked flesh to Harry’s hungry eyes.

The noises he made were so sensual and seductive that Harry yearned for them to be made for him. He wanted so badly the be the object of such wanton desire, and jealousy would bubble up within him for the person Draco had chosen.

He would leave those nights, utterly dejected and fully aroused, and silently cry to himself. He wanted to make Draco see him, really see him, but he knew it was a useless endeavor.

--

Authors Note: I hope to see lots of reviews when I get back!!