Title: At the Soundless Dawn
Summary: Voldemort won. Everything is over – or so Harry thinks. But maybe not all hope is lost...
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): AU, some angst, creature!fic (vampire), (very) light bloodplay, sexual situations.
Epilogue compliant? Nope! EWE.
Word Count: ~5,000
Author's Notes: Big thanks to J. for betaing this. I really enjoyed writing this after a bit of a struggle at the beginning, and... I hope you like it!
Harry gasped as he sat up in his bed, his skin glistening with sweat, his body hot and flushed. He was panting and staring frantically through the darkness of his room, his fingers closing tightly around the wand he'd instinctively grabbed from the bedside table.
"Fuck." He let out a relieved sigh when he realised that he was safe, that it had just been another awful nightmare. He collapsed back against the mattress and brushed his sweaty hair off his forehead, his heart slowing down and his breathing evening out after a few moments of rest. He rubbed his forehead absent-mindedly, frowning up at the ceiling and shaking his head. For some reason he still couldn't shake off the feeling that he wasn't alone in his room.
Looking around once again, however, he saw nothing but darkness. Swallowing hard, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for his glasses and slid them on.
Suddenly he felt the back of his neck prickling and blinked before whirling around, pointing his wand at the moonlit room. He stayed alert for a long moment before realising that he was apparently just being completely paranoid. He let out a breathless chuckle and shook his head at himself. Those weird dreams he'd been having lately really messed with his head. And the fact that he lived here on his own didn't exactly help.
Life had changed for all of them. Harry wasn't even sure if he could still call it 'life'. Hiding and waiting for... for what exactly? Harry didn't know, but waiting was all he'd been doing for the past few years. He knew he should either just move on, or find a way to fix everything but he couldn't find the motivation to do either. Yes, he could live a long life. But Harry wasn't sure if this life was really worth living.
He had failed. He had disappointed everyone who'd believed in him. He'd subjected his friends and the entire Wizarding world to this – a life in fear and hiding. He'd let Voldemort survive, and most days, he wasn't sure if the fact that he himself had survived was a blessing or a curse. He had to live with the knowledge that he'd let everyone who'd counted on him down. Everyone had been so sure that the Boy Who Lived would save them, and he'd disappointed all of them.
Harry snorted. The Boy Who Lived. If they could only see what had become of their 'saviour'...
He was drowning in self-pity and seemed unable to snap out of it. Most days, he was drunk; it seemed to be the only way he could forget. Sometimes he punished himself by not drinking and letting the weight of the world crash down on him which made him fall into an even worse depression.
He was safe, for now. After failing to kill Voldemort, he and his friends had left England and settled down in various foreign cities. It was safer for them to spread around and not all live in the same neighbourhood. At least this way, if Voldemort found one of them, they wouldn't all die. Harry didn't know why he'd chosen Prague. The city had always fascinated him, and people left him alone.
He knew that Ron and Hermione hadn't given up. They were still looking for ways to destroy Voldemort once and for all. They sent weekly updates to Harry; most of the letters remained unopened. Harry couldn't bring himself to care; he knew that they had lost and he had accepted that fact, more or less.
Sighing and lowering his wand which had still been pointing at a random spot in the darkness, Harry found himself trying to remember his dream. He'd been having many odd nightmares lately and had spent an awful lot of time trying to figure out what they could mean. He'd even considered sending an owl to Hermione; he was sure that she'd have a couple of theories. But he didn't want her to worry more than she did already, so he decided against it. His brain was an odd place sometimes; he didn't think it was necessary to share that fact with the world. Or, well, his friends.
Harry frowned as he tried to remember tonight's dream; the details were fuzzy but he did remember one detail that had thrown him off. He'd been attacked by some sort of odd Inferi-like creatures when he'd been saved by an angel with black wings. He had been beautiful, and naked.
Harry furrowed his brow as he tried to remember; the angel had seemed oddly familiar but no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't remember who it had been. Dismissing the thought, he turned around, about to leave the room when the door slammed shut and he saw the outline of someone who'd been hiding behind his door.
He froze and it took him too long to lift his wand. By the time he'd processed the fact that someone was actually in his room, that he hadn't just imagined it, the person had already kicked his wand out of his hand and pressed him against the nearest wall. Harry tried to struggle and push them away but they were surprisingly strong. "Get off me!" He cursed and pressed his hands against the stranger's chest, still trying to get them to release him.
"Stop it! Don't make me hurt you, Potter," an oddly familiar voice suddenly hissed in his ear and Harry went still in shock, his eyes widening when it suddenly became painfully clear who it was. At the same time, the face of the angel in his dream appeared before his eyes and Harry couldn't hold back a gasp.
"Malfoy?! What the fuck are you doing here?" Harry hissed, trying harder than ever to get Malfoy to move away from him. When had that bastard gotten so strong? No matter how much he tried, Harry just didn't manage to push him away. When he stopped struggling, Malfoy took a step back, and Harry blinked when he finally got a good look at the other man.
Malfoy had changed... but not really. Harry couldn't explain it and seemed unable to take his eyes off of him. For some reason, Malfoy didn't look much older than when Harry had last seen him at the Battle of Hogwarts. In fact, he didn't seem to have aged a day! And still, there was something decidedly different about him. He looked paler in the soft light of the moon, his features more defined than before and his eyes...
Harry's breath caught in his throat when he noticed Malfoy's eyes. They looked almost red. Convinced that he was imagining things and unable to say another word or do anything but stare, Harry swallowed hard, feeling an odd sensation in his stomach. He wasn't scared, even though Malfoy's presence in his room made him feel oddly disquieted. "What," he finally managed, blinking hard, "what are you doing here, Malfoy?"
He licked his suddenly dry lips, feeling Malfoy's eyes bore into him. "I've been looking for you, Potter," Malfoy replied after a moment. Even his voice seemed to have changed. It was low and soft, and sounded almost seductive. "You did a bloody good job at hiding, I have to say. Took me a while to figure out where to look for you."
Harry's brain needed longer than usual to process what Malfoy was saying, and he felt himself blinking again as he tried to form a response. "Why on earth would you look for me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "If you want to kill me, go ahead. You would be doing me a favour."
He hadn't heard anything about Malfoy's loyalties or whereabouts in the past five years. But then again, he hadn't really been keeping up with what was happening in the Wizarding world either.
Malfoy arched one pale eyebrow, eyeing Harry with that same intense (and annoying) look, and Harry reached up to rub the back of his own neck. The way Malfoy was staring at him made him unaccountably nervous. "Kill you?" Malfoy asked after a moment, a small grin playing around his lips. "Now why would I do that, Potter?"
It was Harry's turn to raise his eyebrows before furrowing them in confusion. He rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Gee, I don't know. Last time I checked, you were working for Voldemort, so I don't know why you would possibly want to kill me." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and as much as he wanted to, he didn't break the eye contact.
Malfoy's face darkened at that and he lowered his eyes for a moment. "That was a long time ago, Potter," he said quietly, his voice sounding oddly resigned. "A lot has changed since then and..." He let out a breathless laugh. "Let's just say I've... changed my mind."
Harry snorted. "Oh, have you now? Well, I'm glad to hear it. It still doesn't explain why you are here."
Malfoy looked up and his eyes flashed red, silencing Harry immediately. Harry suddenly found himself pressed against the wall again, and Malfoy was close; too close. Harry held his breath, shivering when he felt Malfoy's cold fingers brush his neck. He felt his eyes flutter closed as his body reacted to the surprisingly gentle touch, and he swallowed hard again, staying perfectly still.
"I needed to see you," Malfoy whispered, his mouth inches away from Harry's ear. Harry felt his knees go weak at the sound of Malfoy's voice while his brain seemed to shut off completely. Unable to form a clear thought, Harry shivered when Malfoy's body pressed against his own, and, horrified, he realised that he was hard. Painfully hard. Before he could protest or try to put some distance between the two of them, he felt Malfoy's lips brush over his neck and his eyes flew open.
His breathing sped up while his heart pounded in his chest, his entire body fully aware that Malfoy had to know what effect his close proximity had on Harry. "Malfoy," Harry said, trying to make his voice sound steady but only managing a whisper. "Wha– what are you doing?"
His eyes widened comically when he felt two sharp, pointy teeth graze his neck, and his shock at the realisation gave him enough strength to push Malfoy away. He covered the side of his neck with a hand and stared at Malfoy in utter shock when he understood.
Malfoy was a vampire. Why hadn't he seen it before? The pale, cold skin, the red eyes, his strength and incredible speed; it all fell into place. "When? H-how?"
Malfoy looked haunted – hauntingly beautiful, Harry's brain supplied helpfully – as he opened his mouth to reply, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "Caught up on it finally, did you, Potter?" He tried to provoke Harry but gave up quickly and sighed. "A year after you disappeared," he said quietly, meeting Harry's eyes again. "The Dark Lord wasn't pleased with my father's work, so he threatened to kill me to get my father to realise what was at stake. My father completed the task the Dark Lord had given him successfully but Voldemort apparently thought he had to make a statement, so he let the vampires that work for him take care of me. I had no chance."
His eyes narrowed momentarily, and Harry felt a sudden surge of... something wash over him, shocked at what Malfoy was telling him. "I killed my sire," Malfoy continued after a moment, "and then obviously had to flee." He chuckled darkly. "They were not happy."
Starting to pace slightly, Malfoy ran a hand through his blond hair. "Voldemort can't track vampires, so I knew he wouldn't be able to find me. I just... hid for a while before it occurred to me that you were the only one who could help. I tried to find you, thinking that you had to be hiding somewhere, secretly working on a plan to get back at Voldemort, but I suppose I was mistaken." He stopped suddenly and glanced back at Harry thoughtfully. "I've been watching you for a while, Potter. I have to admit I was disappointed when I saw that you've clearly given up. I thought you actually cared what was happening to the people you left behind but... I must've been wrong about you all along."
At that, Harry narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, glaring at Malfoy. "Shut up, Malfoy. You don't know me. I do–"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Who are you kidding, Potter? I told you I've been watching you. You're not doing anything. You just sit around in your fancy apartment, drinking all day and being miserable." He took a step towards Harry, pressing his hand against the wall on one side of Harry's head, his face dangerously close to Harry's. "I came here, hoping you had some sort of plan, but now I see that I was wrong about you. You don't care. You're drowning in self-pity, wondering all day why you are such a failure. Well, let me enlighten you, Potter. People still believe in you. They're waiting for you to finally fucking do something. And even though I have no idea what makes you of all people so special, I just know that you are. Get off your lazy arse and go back. Show them that they didn't make a huge mistake by trusting you."
Harry lowered his head and frowned, hating Malfoy more than ever for making him feel guiltier than he had been in the past five years. Who did he think he was? He couldn't just come here out of the blue and expect Harry to save the world. Everyone always expected him to know what to do but the truth was that Harry had no clue. And Malfoy had some nerve coming here and throwing this in his face.
But the worst thing was that Harry knew he was right. Some part of him, deep down, knew that Malfoy had struck a nerve. The git probably knew that he was the only one who could provoke such a reaction in Harry, and Harry hated him for it. He hated him for making him face the truth.
When Harry looked up, he realised that Malfoy had stepped even closer. His palms were pressed against the wall on either side of Harry's head, his deep red eyes watching him intently. Harry felt his heartbeat speed up again, convinced his heart was trying to break out of his chest; even more so when Malfoy suddenly tilted his head and leaned in...
Harry couldn't suppress a soft noise when Malfoy's cool lips brushed his own, the coldness both unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. Still trying to fight the urge to answer the kiss, Harry tried to pull back, his breath hitching in surprise when Malfoy cupped his cheek and parted his lips slightly, kissing Harry more fully.
Harry felt the last bit of his resolve crumbling when he tasted Malfoy and, still trying to process the fact that he was kissing Draco Malfoy, he let himself give in and slid his arms around Malfoy's waist, pulling him closer. Encouraged by Harry's response, Draco closed the distance between them entirely and slid a hand around the back of Harry's neck, keeping his head in place firmly as he deepened the kiss and brushed his tongue over Harry's bottom lip.
Still overwhelmed by the unfamiliar coldness of Draco's body, Harry opened his mouth to suck in a breath, and Draco used the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, brushing it along Harry's and making a soft content sound in the back of his throat. Harry felt his knees go weak at that sound and he held onto Draco unconsciously as their kiss grew more passionate. Draco seemed to notice because a moment later he'd pushed Harry to the bed, breaking the kiss only when Harry's knees hit the mattress and he flopped down on it.
Draco licked his lips, baring his teeth, and Harry felt his cock twitch in his pyjama bottoms as he saw the sharp eyeteeth lightly digging into Draco's bottom lip. He let out an involuntary moan and sat up to grab Draco's shirt, pulling him down on top of him and once again pressing their lips together in an almost desperate kiss.
The feel of Draco's fangs brushing his lips went straight to Harry's cock and he thrust up against Draco's heavy body on top of him, breath catching at the amazing friction.
"Fuck, Potter," Draco muttered, forcing his way between Harry's legs and starting to grind against him, their erections pressed together firmly. Harry moaned and decided that he needed to see more of Draco. He clumsily tugged at his shirt, managing, with Draco's help, to pull it over his head. His hands trailed down Draco's back, feeling the muscles flexing beneath his cold skin. He broke the kiss, needing air, and stared up at Draco reverently, seeing the same look reflected in the vampire's eyes.
His eyes fluttered closed when Draco pushed up Harry's shirt, bending his head to lick a trail from his navel up to his chest. He nipped on Harry's nipples, making a desperate mewl escape Harry's lips. "Malfoy," he whispered, tangling his fingers in Draco's hair and moaning again when he suddenly felt sharp teeth grazing over his sensitive skin. "Fuck, Draco..."
Rather than see, Harry could feel Malfoy smirking against his skin and he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress a grin himself. He felt his cheeks flushing a little and pulled himself up on his elbows, watching as Draco slowly pulled down Harry's pyjama bottoms, tossing them onto the floor. Harry had never seen anything as arousing as the look on Draco's face when he sat up to take a long look at Harry's semi-naked body. Sitting up to pull off his shirt, Harry reached for Draco's belt, opening it with shaky hands and yanking down Draco's trousers to reveal his cock.
He licked his lips and, unable to stop himself, reached for Draco's erection, wrapping his hand around it and stroking it lightly as he looked up at Draco with dark eyes. Draco closed his own eyes and moaned while Harry watched him, entranced. He had never considered Malfoy particularly attractive back at Hogwarts but now...
He remembered his dream, and realised that Draco looked exactly how he'd looked in his dream. It was a little creepy that his subconscious had so vividly depictured Draco's beauty. He might not be an angel but that didn't change the fact that he looked amazingly beautiful.
Harry blushed a little when Draco caught him staring, and he gave him a sheepish grin. Draco raised an eyebrow, then leaned forward and brushed cool lips over Harry's neck, nipping teasingly at it with his fangs while his fingers slid down Harry's body to gently brush them over his erection. The cool touch felt pleasant rather than uncomfortable, and Harry let out another needy moan.
The sensation of Draco's sharp fangs grazing his skin was driving him insane; he wanted, needed, more. He was terrified of the pain but at the same time, he knew he wanted it. "Bite me," he panted, digging the fingers of his free hand into Draco's back, leaving marks. "Hurt me."
Harry was glad when Draco didn't question him and just licked a spot on his neck affectionately and soothingly before his fangs broke the delicate skin. Harry's eyes snapped open and he let out a whimper in shock. The pain was intense and sweet, and when Draco started sucking, Harry thought it was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.
"Fuck," he breathed when Draco sucked harder and Harry was hit by the sudden realisation of how strong Draco was. Harry was at his mercy and would be dead within seconds if Draco wanted to kill him. For some sick, twisted reason that fact turned him on even more, and it only took one more tug of Draco's exceptionally skilled hand before he cried out and spilled his seed all over Draco's hand and his own stomach.
Withdrawing his teeth, Draco licked up the blood that was trickling down Harry's neck and drew back. Harry, recovering from what was undoubtedly the most intense orgasm of his life, stared up at him in wonder, panting heavily.
"Well, well, Potter." A small smile played around Draco's lips as he moved to straddle Harry's chest, looking down at him with dark red eyes, his lips blood-smeared and his eyeteeth poking out just a little. Harry was transfixed, unable to decide whether the sight of his own blood on Draco's lips, or the inviting sight of his cock just in front of him was more worth looking at. Draco made the choice for him as he leaned forward to lick Harry's neck again, sliding a hand into his hair and yanking his head back roughly. He licked the shell of Harry's ear and hissed, "Suck, Potter."
Never before had the sound of his last name spilling from those sinful lips had this effect on him, and Harry realised that he was getting hard again. He usually never recovered this quickly, and for a moment he was stunned. Licking his dry lips, he turned his attention to Draco's cock, moaning softly when Draco leaned forward to brush the tip of his already leaking erection against Harry's lips. Harry's tongue darted out to lick up the thin sheet of pre-come before he opened his mouth and sucked Draco's erection inside. He moaned around it, loving the feel of the thick, heavy cock on his tongue. After exploring Draco's length with his tongue for a moment, wanting to memorise every detail about it, Harry tightened his mouth around him and started sucking, moving his head back and forth and revelling in the soft moans coming from Draco's mouth.
Harry could tell that Draco was doing his best trying not to thrust but after a while he seemed to give in, capable of telling that Harry didn't mind at all. Harry gagged slightly when the tip of Draco's cock hit the back of his throat, then slowly got used to the feel of Draco inside his mouth and throat, finding a rhythm that worked for both of them.
He swirled his tongue around the head of Draco's cock and looked up at his face as Draco fucked his mouth, moaning when he saw the vampire staring down at him. Before Harry could bring Draco to completion, Draco pulled back and moved down Harry's body, crushing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Harry closed his eyes and kissed back eagerly, craning his neck when he felt Draco kiss his way over to his neck again and sink his teeth back into it. Harry groaned and felt his cock twitch at the sensation.
Draco nudged Harry's legs apart and slid between them, pressing their cocks together and grinding against Harry hard, their bodies slick with sweat as they slid against each other. Harry bit his lip when Draco kissed his way down his body, and when he opened his eyes and stared down at himself, he noticed the faint traces of blood all over his body. It aroused him more than he had thought possible and he gasped when Draco sank his teeth into his thigh.
The realisation that he would have bite marks all over his body didn't bother him. On the contrary, it made him feel like he belonged to Malfoy. For the first time in five years, he felt alive, and he wasn't sure whether it was the fact that he'd been abstinent all of this time, or that it was Malfoy – who was technically dead – who was here with him. It was a nice feeling.
Letting his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, he then watched Draco lick up the warm blood that ran down the inside of his thigh, then trail his fingers through it, sliding two of them into Harry's mouth, letting him taste himself. Harry groaned; he had never particularly liked the taste of blood but combined with the feeling of Draco's face nuzzling his cock, it was the best thing he'd tasted in his life.
His body tensed when he suddenly felt Draco's fingers at his entrance, pushing in slowly but steadily. He wasn't surprised to find that Draco had used his blood as lube, and even that turned him on. Not for the first time that night, he wondered how sick he really was.
It didn't take long until Draco had prepared him and positioned himself, pushing into Harry's tense body in one steady thrust. Harry's fingers dug into Draco's back and he held onto him as he whimpered into his neck, trying to get used to the feel of Draco's cock inside of him. Draco was stroking his hair and Harry felt himself relax, almost purring at the gentle, comfortable touch. Then Draco started moving and Harry was sure he had never felt anything so good in his entire life.
They rocked against each other in a perfect rhythm for a while, kissing intensely as their bodies rubbed against each other. When Draco knew they were both close, he leaned in and sank his teeth into Harry's neck one last time, the sensation sending Harry over the edge and forcing his orgasm out of him with a force he never thought possible. His clenching triggered Draco's orgasm and soon both of them lay spent in each other's arms. Harry was panting while Draco lay perfectly still, and the fact that Draco didn't need to breathe didn't freak Harry out but made the entire experience even more... thrilling.
When he'd caught his breath, Harry lifted his head and kissed Draco's jaw gently, looking into his eyes thoughtfully. He blinked when something he'd learned at school occurred to him. "Wait, don't you vampires have that whole thing going on where you need to be invited into a house before you can enter it? How did you get in here?"
Draco looked down at him thoughtfully. "Truthfully? I was rather stunned myself when I discovered I could come in here without an invitation," he said quietly. "I think it has to do with the fact that... you don't really consider this place your home." He watched Harry attentively. "Part of you still knows that you won't be here forever; that you will go back to England sooner or later."
He rolled onto his side and looked deep into Harry's eyes. "Harry... Isn't that proof enough? Don't you see that you need to do something? You know the Dark Lord better than anyone else, and even I am convinced by now that you are the only one who can beat him." He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes in thought. "What's keeping you? Why can't you bring yourself to care about your home?"
Harry stared at him and shook his head, rolling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. He draped an arm over his forehead, rubbing his scar absentmindedly, and shrugging. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I just... Do you really think I can do it? I failed, Draco. What makes you so sure that I can really make a difference?"
Draco leaned over and kissed his cheek, sliding an arm across Harry's chest and resting his chin on his shoulder. "Because you're you. If anyone can do it, it's you, Potter. I'm not saying you should just go back without a plan and expect to send Voldemort back where he came from. You should definitely come up with a plan." Draco sighed. "We were never friends, Harry. But I know you. I might even know you better than anyone else does. And I know you don't just give up. When I saw you here, letting your life pass by, I knew I had to step in. It's just not like you to let all of these bad things happen without showing the slightest inclination of doing something to prevent them. I get where you're coming from. Your pride is hurt because it didn't work out the first time. But... don't stop trying. Just look at me; life is over way too soon, and you know you can't really move on before you've taken care of this. Am I right?"
Harry turned his head and glanced down at him, rolling his eyes and avoiding eye contact because he knew Draco was right. If he didn't snap out of this passiveness, his life would be over and the Wizarding world lost for who knew how long. He thought about this as he snuggled more into Draco's arms, falling asleep just before dawn.
As the bright sunlight woke him up in the early afternoon, Harry sat up abruptly, staring at the spot where Draco had been only hours before. He was gone. Staring out of the window at the sun, he felt his stomach tighten and he swallowed hard.
Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe Draco hadn't even been here. Maybe...
But then he felt the surprisingly comfortable throbbing of the bite marks on his neck and thigh and how sore he felt all over. Not a dream, then. He still felt momentarily worried as he glanced out the window at the bright sun which would obviously be deadly for Draco.
When he heard a soft noise in the kitchen, he was finally able to relax. He let out a soft breath and buried his face in his hands, rubbing it a little. For a moment, he'd been convinced, Draco was gone. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to deal with another loss.
Slowly, everything that had happened the night before came back to him, and he found himself wondering how he would go about saving the Wizarding world. He wasn't sure if he was going to succeed but Draco's belief in him touched him more deeply than he let on and made him stronger. Whatever was going to happen, he wouldn't be alone in this. He would have someone to fight by his side, and most importantly, something to fight for
Harry smiled as, for the first time in over five years, he could hope again.