I write a lot of Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy SLASH Fan-Fictions. Yes, Slash. That means a homosexual relationship between Harry and Draco, if you did not already know this. This is the first chapter to my newest FanFiction and I was wondering if I could get some critique on it. It is dark, morbid, and Draco's a vampire - are you intrigued yet? Hehe. Enjoy!
XX
If there ever was an end, he failed the sight for seeing it.
If there ever was a beginning, he had failed to avoid it.
It was bound to happen. He knew it would come down to this. To darkness. To nothingness. To an eternal emptiness, poisoning every last thought in his head.
Emotions had long since departed. All he felt was the cold underneath his skin; the growing apathy and submission into the void.
XX
Partial to the cool, unforgiving night his footsteps echoed off the hollow alley. He strode stiffly, hands in his long, black cloak pockets grasped tightly in the fabric he couldn't quite feel. His lean figure stalked perfectly in the blanket of shadows, his grey eyes rimmed blood red narrowed at the flickering light far ahead of him.
From such a vast distance, he could use his keen senses to peer into that window. He saw few in the Hogs Head, much as he had expected. He walked with such pace and percision it was unnatural. Upon entering, the few people inside all turned towards him. Silence.
He was used to that by now. Wherever he went, gawking stares and silence followed along with the distinct smell of fear. Always fear. He was sick of its stench, clogging his nostrils and overpowering his mind. He despised commonfolk's fear when they gazed upon him, able to instinctively feel his power over them.
With a quick, swift movement of his hand over his face he pushed strikingly silver strands of hair out of his eyes. What the other magick folk had not seen was the small glammer he set into place, veiling the dark red in them. But his unmatched pale skin still stood out, and the cold hard expression of stone.
He took a seat on the bar stool, attempting to relax as much as possible but all his extremeties were tensed. He looked up at the bartender, Abberforth (SP?) Dumbledore. He seethed just seeing the brother of the Hogwarts Headmaster. "Firewhiskey," he spat venomously.
"C-coming right up," he stuttered, to disappear behind the counter and return with the ordered drink.
Draco Malfoy curled his hand tightly around the cup, he took a large gulp of it and let the tasteless liquid slide down his throat. It would not inebriate him even on regular circumstances, but now...now it was just for appearances. What he was thirsting for was something else. Something much sweeter than any kind of whiskey. That was why he had left his temporary home that evening; he was salivating for a taste.
Slowly he surveyed the bar which was returning to normal. The small crowd chattered, joked, jostled about and drank. The more ragged vagabonds sat near the back, discussing in low voices, some looked up every once and awhile and across the dimly lit room eyed Draco suspiciously, scowls on their faces. He paid them no mind or reason. Why need he?
Holding all the patience in the world, he softly lidded his eyes and stayed on the edge of his seat. He breathed in slowly, heavily, though he need not it steadied himself for a different type of modified Legilmancy. He sensed the emotions and auras of those around him, he gently proded into them one-by-one careful not to be caught. He took his time finding the one that interested him most. He concentrated on the feeling of that aura, of that persons emotional outreach.
Snapping his eyes open, they were immediately upon his prey for the evening. A young woman, not passed her late twenties. She appeared to be shy, and was being courted by a man of the same age. She wore a light summers cloak, a blouse and long skirt that fell to her ankles. The conservative type.
But Draco was more intrigued by what the man beside her would taste like on his teeth. His flesh looked hard and warm, a vein throbbed at his revealed neck. He wore a cloak unclasped, a v-neck blouse beneath it with small chest hairs curling out of it. His dark, brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and he was chatting animatedly, his hands alive with conversation and he smiled gleefully. The woman pursed her lips and laughed when appropriate.
Draco watched them for awhile. They drank and flirted, and his eyes never lifted from the man as he moved. As he Breathed. He could hear his heart thudding against his eardrums, he could already feel the essence of the man's life running wild through his own, cold veins.
They moved to pay their bill, he wrapped his arm around her waist tightly and they continued out the door, still wrapped in one another's conversation. Draco left a few Galleons on the bar table and swiftly stood as well, he strode out of the door and back into the night. With the moon hanging low overhead, burning like a beacon in the sky, Draco followed the memorized scent of the man.
They had not gotten far, they were strolling the streets of Hogsmeade with ease. They were walking towards the Three Broomsticks. Draco had to get them beforehand if he wanted him at all. So he moved as fast as the soft wind around them.
The streets being nearly empty worked to his advantage as he advanced on the unsuspecting couple. He was glad for the swiftness in which he could move, for the lightness of his feet. He was behind them, an alley off to their right. That was all he needed. Two walls and one minute.
He was taller than them both, his leanness poured over them but they still were not alert of his presence. "Good evening," he whispered darkly, they shivered and jumped into action but he was much quicker. In one vast motion, he had his sharp nails pressed piercingly into the woman's neck, she squeaked but was otherwise silenced by his hard hold. The man attempted to attack with his wand but one dark glare from Draco set him back.
The platinum-haired boy had his wand in his hand and pressed into her side, "Stupefy," he whispered, his eyes never leaving the man whose breath was caught in his throat. The curse flooded through her, knocking her unconscious as he let her limp body fall to the cobblestone.
"W-what do you want?" the man stuttered.
Draco pocketed his wand and grabbed him by the throat, with little strength he dragged him kicking into the shadowed alley. He threw his frail figure up against the wall, knocking his head hard and tilting it to the side. Draco's cold breath ghosted across his cheek as he admired his catch. 'So beautiful,' he thought to himself.
"You," he hissed in response, the pleasurable need for that thick crimson raked through his bodies, his nerves screamed at him to fufill his desire. Draco wasted no more time and brought his lips down to the man's neck who shivered as he kissed him. Before the mortal could speak again, Draco let his fangs slide into place through his gums and he sunk them into the nape of his neck.
Blood poured immediately onto his lips, into his mouth and down his throat. He lapped and licked, sucking as hard as he could as the man's protests were muffled by vast exhaustion. All of his life was sucked dry by Draco, who fed hastily. Once he pulled back, the man was empty and dangled in his strong grasp. He dropped him to the ground and retracted his fangs and pointed his wand at the corpse, "Incendio," he whispered.
His senses heightened, he watched the body burn to black ashes. He did not know how long he stood there, admiring the flames of his kill as the blood settled inside of him, powering him, but once they went out he kicked the pile and walked away to allow the ashes to scatter in the alley along with the summer night wind.
Without even glancing at the stunned woman on his pass by, Draco sauntered through the center of Hogsmeade feeling much more lively than he had since his last feed. He licked his lips in appreciation of the taste of iron liquid, he lifted the glammer on his eyes as he strolled back down the alley from whence he came.
Blood was all that was now on his mind, which was a grand distraction from the usual emptiness. Sweet, sultry, blood.
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