Where the wizards bite back

Title: Guarding Malfoy
Author/artist: elfflame
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R-ish
Warnings: jealousy, angst and the eensiest smidge of blood-play
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. I make no money. Please don’t sue.
Original request/Bunny: Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Charlie Weasley (or Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter)Scenario: There's a new vampire in town and everyone's scrambling to become their blood donor and bonded mate. Charlie (or Harry) just wants a chance with the man he's been in love with for what seems like forever.
Cool things: Lots and lots and lots of suitors :D, just a dash of angst if possible
Notes: As soon as I saw this, I got this humungous bunny. And then life got in the way. Perhaps someday I will write the full version of this fic, though I rather like it as it is. I don’t generally write Harry-fic. Usually Draco is the one who speaks to me. But this, I just couldn’t resist. Thank you to C & K for the beta help.


Guarding Malfoy

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be standing here at the Manor, feet from Draco, watching him flirt with the tarted up women and overly flashy men who had chosen to attend this little party of his.

Harry had fooled Kingsley into letting him take the job of watching over him on the pretense that, well, it was Draco Malfoy. Of course Harry wouldn't get lured in by the man’s new vampiric prowess. And, he supposed he hadn't lied about that. Except for the fact that he did want Draco, just like everyone else. Though not just. He'd wanted Draco before he was a vampire. But he hadn't told anyone. Everyone he'd known would have been horrified, or assumed he was joking. Never mind that the others only wanted Draco because he was a vampire now. Harry actually wanted Draco. Still, he couldn’t tell him that. So instead, he'd mooned over his childhood rival from afar, right up until his disappearance two years ago.

Now Harry watched as Draco bowed his head towards Millicent Bulstrode, though he imagined (or was it hoped?) he saw the other man’s lip curl in displeasure as he tasted her wrist before shaking his head and waving her on. Harry sagged in relief. One down. Only two hundred more to go. The thought made him wince.

No one had known what had happened to Draco when he’d disappeared. Even his parents seemed at a loss, though they had covered it well. Harry had been able to see how it had worn at them, though. After five years as an Auror, he recognized the careful nonchalance of a family trying to pretend everything was normal in a desperate hope that they would be proven right. When Draco had returned a month ago, at first, everyone had wondered where he had been. But then, the truth had come out: Draco Malfoy was a vampire.

It certainly hadn’t deterred people. Suddenly everyone wanted Draco now. And watching them all make fools of themselves over him made Harry feel ill.

He watched as three more people approached and were rejected by Draco, and then Zabini was smirking at Draco, kissing his cheek. Damn the man. Harry knew they were old friends, and considered him to be one of the top contenders for Draco’s attentions. And that hurt.

Draco smiled back, returning a kiss, then lifted the man’s hand, biting gently into his wrist, and lapping softly at the skin there for a moment, his eyes on Zabini’s. Harry relaxed when Draco shook his head at his friend. Not him, then. Still, there were far too many more to count for him to relax completely.

The news had been a shock to the entire community. The scion of the house of Malfoy, a vampire? And then, the problems had started. Normally, witches and wizards knew enough to keep away from vampires to keep from becoming one. In fact, the Ministry had placed heavy fines on those who were proven to have sought out the vampiric kiss. Muggle vampires were quite common, mostly because Muggles refused to believe they existed. But Wizarding vampires were a very different sort of creature. The magic inherent in their blood made them far more powerful. When a witch or wizard became a vampire, all sorts of problems ensued until they found a mate, or, as it was more commonly called, a Blood-bond. That person would be gifted with long life, and be the primary source of blood for the vampire, and acted as a grounding source for their power. It was a role to be sought after, and everyone free to do so was soon beating down the Manor door to become Draco’s new Blood-bond.

Two more, and there was Parkinson and Harry watched stiffly as she flirted with Draco. Why the hell did this have to be so fucking hard? Couldn’t Draco just choose already, and put him out of his fucking misery?

Draco kissed the soft flesh of her wrist, before biting into it, though his lips barely touched the skin before he was closing the wound again, shaking his head. Not Parkinson, then. Thank god. Harry tried not to sag with relief, even as Draco turned to the next of his suitors.

The Minister had insisted that Harry be the one to guard Draco after the news had gone public. After all, it was the Ministry’s duty to protect the Wizarding World. Even from itself. It had been a simple job to convince Kingsley that he was the only suitable Auror for the task, even though he wanted Draco. Then again, since Kingsley hadn’t known about his little crush, that had been an easy thing to do. What hadn’t been so easy had been his time at the Manor with Draco. Living with him as the rest of the Wizarding World flirted with him was possibly the most painful situation he’d landed himself in yet, watching Draco flirt with so many others, each of whom had more chance with him than Harry himself had.

Boot was next, but Harry shrugged that off. Even Draco admitted the other man was a bit of a stiff. But Charlie Weasley was a bit of a surprise. Why wasn’t he in Romania? And did he have to wear that sleeveless thing? His muscles made it look as though the shirt would rip off him of its own accord.

Draco didn’t seem at all impressed, though. Still, Harry watched with narrowed eyes as Draco bit into the man’s wrist. He was far less delicate this time. Did that mean that he was turned on by Charlie’s display? Or revolted? When Draco dropped his wrist and waved at the man to move on, Harry nearly sagged in place. Obviously disgusted. Thank god.

Each witch or wizard to visit the Manor over the past month had made Harry’s time there just a bit more difficult. The gifts, the flirting, and the inundation of owls each morning from admirers hoping to have Draco choose them for his Blood-bond. Every minute of it had been torture for Harry. What if Draco found the one? And worse, he still treated Harry the way he had at school—as though he were a nuisance who was only in the way. Well, okay, maybe not just that. After all, Harry couldn’t recall Draco ever using so much sexual innuendo before. But then, he had been a bit dense in school. Or possibly it was because Draco was a vampire now, and couldn’t seem to help himself? Perhaps all vampires without a Blood-bond were unable to help themselves?

Morag MacDougal was next. Then Dennis Creevy. Hadn’t he just been protesting about the way the Malfoys had gotten off, scot-free last year?

Roger Davies seemed over-excitable to Harry as Draco raised his wrist to his lips, and Harry couldn’t help but recall how the man had reacted similarly to Fleur in fourth year. Apparently he liked being controlled?

There had been a couple visits to nightclubs which Harry recalled with despair, where he’d watched as Draco flirted with everyone who’d even come near him, until it had been nearly impossible to keep himself from drinking. Of course, the moment he had, Draco had managed to disappear. Harry had had to track him down—in the bathroom, a young man pressed against the wall as Draco ground against him and drank from his neck. The evidence of how much Draco’s “victims” had enjoyed the attack spreading across the front of their trousers before Draco had even finished. It was disgusting. Harry hadn’t been able to stop watching. He did insist they apparate back to the Manor as soon as Draco was done, though.

Harry shuddered with disgust as he watched Rita Skeeter proffer her wrist. Apparently she seemed to think being the Blood-Bond of Draco Malfoy was better than any acclaim she could get from what few articles she could manage to sell any more?

Draco seemed just as disgusted as Harry, though, and quickly waved her on, and Harry smirked as he saw Draco wipe off his hand after she’d left.

Two blokes Harry didn’t recognize followed, and then Marcus Flint. Wasn’t he dating Oliver? But there was Oliver, only two more steps behind him. Harry shook his head. Maybe they’d console each other?

Draco sighed and turned away, picking up a glass of wine that he’d set aside to clear his mouth, and Harry caught that melancholy look on his face again. He’d seen it several times in the past month. As though Draco knew who he wanted, but couldn’t have him. It made Harry want to console him, even though he knew he’d only be rebuffed for the effort.

The last week or so, Draco had seemed especially despondent. None of the cards or gifts or flowers had seemed to help. In fact, most seemed to send him into a darker mood, and Harry had been hard-pressed to keep him calm, especially when Zacharias had appeared and declared to him regally that he could find no better Blood-bond than himself. Draco had thrown him out bodily. That had startled Harry quite a lot. Granted, he wasn’t fond of Smith, but he’d have assumed, had anyone asked, that he and Draco would get on quite well. The planning for this party had started soon after.

Harry was rather surprised at not only the age-range of those trying for Draco’s favor, but also just how many of his suitors were male. Sure, male pairings weren’t unheard of these days, and they were more common when it came to Blood-bonds, but even so, he knew it was still generally frowned upon, given the fact that the Wizarding World was still declining in number.

The next five in line were all male, though. No one that Harry knew particularly well, though The last one was a bloke he seemed to recall from the Slytherin Quidditch team. Blatchey, or something like it.

Mostly, Harry was just grateful Draco turned them all away. He just wanted this over. Except that he didn’t, because Draco had promised all those attending that he would choose tonight. Which meant that no matter what, Harry was likely to have his heart broken by the end of the evening.

He hadn’t been pleased at all when Draco had started to plan the party. It was hard enough dealing with his suitors one at a time. Dealing with them all at once? That would be Harry’s worst nightmare. And even worse? Draco insisted that no matter how the evening ended, he would be choosing his Blood-bond that night. It made Harry ill just to contemplate it. He didn’t want Draco choosing someone else, damn it! Just him. But how was he supposed to say that to someone who still sneered every morning when he saw him?

So instead, he watched as Draco flirted, bit wrists, and danced with his suitors, each refused suitor bringing Harry just a touch more hope. Perhaps if he ran through the entire guest list and found no one, Draco would give him a shot?

The final straw came when Harry saw Hermione step forward to proffer her hand to Draco. His best friend! And one of the few who knew just how he felt about Draco, too!

Not even looking at her, Harry grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him across the room and into the small gathering room at the far end.

“Bloody hell, Potter! What are you trying to do? Pull off my arm?”

“I am not letting you bite Hermione.” Never mind that she wanted it, apparently. Or she wouldn’t have come.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “That’s her choice, Potter. And mine. Not yours. Unless you have a better reason?” he asked coldly. “Because I don’t recall you having any say in this. Or apparently wanting one.”

Harry mentally blinked at that. Draco’d given him the impression that he’d known Harry’s feelings a few times, but then had laughed it off, obviously thinking it a huge joke that Harry might want him. “Yeah, well…I don’t have say over a lot of things, Malfoy. But Hermione’s my friend. And I’m not about to let you hurt her. And don’t deny that you would, either. We both know you hate her type, even now.”

“What? Girls?” Draco asked with a smirk.

Rolling his eyes, Harry nearly growled. “Look, Malfoy. I’m sick of your games. You’ve obviously got someone in mind. So choose them already and put us out of all our misery, all right?”

That wiped the pleased smirk from Draco’s face immediately. “I can’t.”

“Good god, Malfoy. What? You have to wait until midnight or something?”

“Why do you care, anyway, Potter?”

“Because you’re forcing me to suffer through this entire farce, all right?” he asked, not caring that his voice was rising high enough for Draco’s guests to hear him.

“Forcing?” The word was a snarl. “Right. I forgot. You’re only doing this as a favor to the Minister, aren’t you? So leave, then, if you don’t want to be here. I’m sure there are plenty of Aurors in that room who can keep me contained if need be.”

“It’s my assignment, Malfoy. I can’t leave until you’ve bonded. We both know it. So just…get on with it, will you?”

“It’s not that simple,” Draco said, his jaw clenching tightly as he spoke.

“Why not? You obviously have someone in mind. I can tell.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Can you?” He seemed to debate something for a moment, then scowled. “Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s not interested.”

“How do you know? Did you ask?”

The cold and hollow look Draco sent him made Harry shiver. “He didn’t bother trying to court me. He never wanted me.”

Could Draco actually be pining after someone himself? The fact that he’d obviously set his desire on someone he thought was unattainable made Harry’s heart go out to him. He knew how it felt to have everyone except the one you wanted go after you. Even knowing it meant he’d never get another chance with Draco, he knew he had to help. Wasn’t that what love was? Wanting the person you loved to be happy, even if it made you miserable? “Who is he? Maybe he thought he didn’t stand a chance. I could…talk to him for you.”

The hostile look faded, replaced by shock and Harry thought he saw just a touch of hope, as well. “You would? Why?”

“Because…I know what it feels like to want something you can’t have,” he said softly, a touch of bitterness in his tone.

“Would you…tell him word for word?” Draco asked.

“Yeah. If that’s what you wanted.”

Draco seemed to think about that for a long time, then met Harry’s eyes, his own gaze intent. “Tell him…He’s the first one I thought of after I was bitten. That he was the last one I thought of when I died. That if…I could go back and do it again…I…would have been on his side. Always.”

The words sent a shiver of longing down Harry’s back, but he nodded once he was sure Draco was done. “Okay. Is…that the whole message?” he asked slowly.

A moment’s consideration, and then Draco shook his head, stepping closer. “No.” Soft lips were on his own, and no girl’s lips had ever felt that good, and it was all Harry could do to control himself, his hands clenched at his sides as though to hold tight to that last thread of knowledge that this was not for him. Draco pulled away only a hair’s breadth, and Harry swore he could feel his lips brush against his when he spoke once more. “Harry…?”

Harry had been about to ask who it was the message was to go to, but his eyes widened at the name. Draco had never used his first name before. He licked his lips, shivering as he tasted Draco there, barely able to keep from pressing forward to taste it again…to take more. Oh god, he wanted… “What?”

“Do you want me?” The words were so soft, Harry thought they were a dream. Had to be. He couldn’t possibly have heard…

“Is…that part of the message?”

Harry saw Draco’s mouth twitch into a smirk. “Yes…”

Sagging, Harry sighed and pulled away. “Right. So…who is it, exactly, that you want me to deliver this message to?”

Draco’s eyes flashed. “Idiot.” Harry gasped as Draco pushed him against the wall. “Not clear enough for you?” He grabbed Harry’s hand, then raised it to his lips, his eyes on Harry’s. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I will stop.” There was something indefinable in Draco’s eyes. Hope, anger…and was that…fear?

Draco licked over his pulse-point, and Harry couldn’t hold back the gasp. He’d not realized how sensitive that spot could be.

“Tell me,” Draco growled. Harry could tell he was barely holding himself back, his whole body rigid.

“No. Don’t stop,” Harry whispered.

Eyes widening at the words, Draco groaned. His teeth slid into the skin so easily. No pain. Just pleasure. He’d thought it would sting, at least. And then he saw Draco’s throat bob, and gasped as he felt the pull. It felt like Draco was pulling from his whole body all at once. Like he was floating; flying. “Ohgod…Draco…yes…”

Draco pulled back, his head going back, his eyes closed in a look of ecstasy he’d never seen on that face before, even in those horrible bathrooms at the clubs.

“Draco?” Harry asked, scared now, not sure what this meant.

Glowing silver eyes focused on him, and Draco dropped his hand, pressing his own to either side of Harry’s head. “Too late to change your mind.” Before Harry could tell him he didn’t want to, Draco was kissing him again. This time, there was no hesitation as he returned the kiss, his own arms winding around Draco.

When Draco finally pulled back, Harry gloried in how mussed and flushed he looked. He’d done that. And Draco wanted him. Draco had claimed him.

“Harry?”

“You…really want this?”

After a month of hiding it, Harry couldn’t help but beam as he answered. “More than anything else in the world.”

Draco’s answering grin made his heart swell even more. “Come on. I guess I have to go break a few hundred hearts…” He took Harry’s hand, and together, they walked back into the ballroom, and into their future.