Forbidden Union

Draco walked slowly back to his common room. Although it had taken Madame Pomfrey only a few minutes to fix his leg she had kept him at the infirmary for hours while she inspected the rest of him, healing bruises on her way, and then she had interrogated him, while he ignored her. Having already told her he’d tripped down some stairs he wasn’t going to complicate matters by lying any further. Really he didn’t even know why he’d bothered to lie. He could have told the truth and been rid of Potter for ever, but really, what was the point? He didn’t care about getting Potter expelled anymore and at least this afternoons little fight had been interesting; painful yes, but interesting. School was boring him, classes he’d struggled in before were suddenly easy, and the vast majority of students were predictable, the most interesting thing about them the lure of their blood. He could still feel the wave of Potter’s anger and hate flowing over him.



It was getting close to curfew but Draco couldn’t make himself care. The pain of his broken leg had exhausted him, and he found he was starving. He was forbidden to find food anywhere but from his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, but the thought of going to them, weak and hungry, and asking to feed off them made him feel sick and ashamed. Stopping in the middle of the corridor he came to a decision. He stood still and listened and felt out for the life forces around him, as he’d tried not to do since almost overwhelmed at the train station before the start of term. He could still feel the hundreds of students and teachers, but no-one was close to him, turning back he almost flew through the corridors to the front entrance, then he was outside. With his senses fully open he smelled the cold promise of snow in the air, although there were no clouds visible, but even without his coat he wasn’t cold. The forbidden forest beckoned, it looked like a dark shadow against the moonlit grounds, but he knew that once under the trees his predators eyes would adjust and he would see every detail clearly.



Draco had no clear plans, but thought it wouldn’t be too hard to find some small warm blooded creature to sate his desire for fresh blood; if not completely at least enough so he wouldn’t have to go to Crabbe or Goyle for another day or two. As he reached the cover of the trees he stopped and let his senses roam ahead. He could feel magical creatures the most strongly: the blinding white clear crystal of the unicorns; there was a small herd of them deeper in the forest to his left, and past them, much deeper in the forest was a network of silver lines he guessed were the centaurs, linked as house elves were. Darker and less distinct were the Thestrals. Deep in the forest, almost at the limits of his senses Draco could feel another vast network of linked creatures, cold and hollow, varying in size from small too huge, he could feel their hunger, but had no idea what type of creature they might be. Of the type of small mammal he had been hoping to find however, the forest was strangely empty, and the few he did feel were extremely cautious; he could feel them melting away from him, finding safe places to hide almost as soon as he sensed them. Despite that he was unwilling to return to the castle, and the dark forest, filled with strange magical life and huge trees so old they were almost sentient in themselves drew him in. He hunted.



The cold light of dawn was just beginning to permeate the forest when Draco returned, still hungry but strangely happy, to the castle. Using his senses to return to his dorm without being caught he went directly to the shower, knowing his dirt streaked skin and the twigs caught in his hair would give him away if anyone saw him. Letting the steaming water run in rivulets over him he tried to ignore the emptiness eating at his insides. He would have to feed tonight. When he finally left the shower he was almost running late his first class of the day; potions.



Sitting at a table in the back with Blaise Draco tried to ignore the beating hearts around him. He knew Blaise was watching him as he mangled his ingredients, but found it hard to care. Blaise smelled nice; of soap and lust and warm muskiness, but mostly of life. As he reached across to stir the cauldron between them the scent wafted stronger and Draco realised he had unconsciously leaned closer; he could see the pulse, strong and even under the smooth ebony skin of Blaise’s wrist. Damn. He leaned back and continued pretending to follow the instructions on the board. He would have to skip the rest of the day, there was no choice. He had been stupid last night; he should have fed of his friends, he had never been this hungry, and hadn’t known it would affect him so much.



“Ahh!” He heard the exclamation a second before he smelled the warm salty blood, he saw it welling, ruby red and delicious and realised he had already left his chair and was leaning over the clumsy Gryffindor; only Neville would be stupid enough to cut his finger with a hungry vampire sitting just behind him.



A warm hand on his shoulder restrained him, the long fingers pressed into a nerve, numbing his arm. He returned to his seat without being asked, ignoring the eyes questioning him from around the room. Severus healed the cut and spelled Neville’s hand clean immediately, not sending him to the infirmary as he might normally have done. Draco felt dark eyes bore into him and knew without words he was required to stay after class. Damn all Gryffindors. If only Neville wasn’t so clumsy Draco could have returned to his dorm after class and waited out the day, and no-one would have had to know how stupid he had been.



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Harry watched the blonde return to his seat. Malfoy hadn’t looked at him, seated beside Neville, but Harry had been close enough to see the single mindedness in his eyes as he had leaned over the other boy. Now he turned his seat around slightly to study the blonde out of the corner of his eyes as he worked. He was shocked that he hadn’t gotton in trouble after yesterday afternoon, and had come to the conclusion that Malfoy had not told on him, which was a mystery, and mystery’s were becoming more common where Malfoy was involved. Malfoy looked… strange. Pale and tired, dark shadows under his eyes…. His eyes! With a shiver he remembered the look in them as the Slytherin had leaned over Neville, they were wide, the white showing all around, and luminous, silver almost, the pupils huge, and his hands had stretched out like claws, ready to grab Neville’s arm. He turned to look at Hermione, and found her also studying Malfoy, a questioning look in her eyes. Even Hermione couldn’t deny this was definitely weird.