Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10018367.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M, F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Lucius_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin, Hermione_Granger/
      Ron_Weasley, Harry_Potter/Voldemort
  Character:
      Albus_Dumbledore, Harry_Potter, Severus_Snape, Draco_Malfoy, Original
      Character
  Additional Tags:
      Mpreg, Sexual_Content, Alternate_Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Horror,
      Supernatural_-_Freeform, Romance, Science_Fiction_&_Fantasy
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-08-31 Completed: 2007-12-02 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 19819
****** Tantalizing BloodLust ******
by Bloodied Scriptures [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Harry comes into a strange inheritance. Not only is he to be a
     submissive partner to someone who could get him pregnant, his
     dominant just has to be the right-hand man to his greatest enemy.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** The Inheritance *****
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, I never have, I never
will. Nor do I intend any infringement upon it. I love the Harry Potter
universe and would never hurt it...only it's characters.
The poem at the beginning is mine. I am sorry, but it is not titled...
Tantalizing Blood-Lust
Authored by Bloodied Scriptures
Rated Nc-17; Dark in nature and wondrously decadent.
Summary: Harry comes into a strange inheritance. Not only is he to be a
submissive partner to someone who could get him pregnant, his dominant just has
to be the right-hand man to his greatest enemy.
Warnings: Sexy man-on-man action set in the Seventeenth century, Some
heterosexual escapades, Many a steamy night, a large-role playing peasant girl,
and waterfalls of tears...(If you don't catch my meaning I mean: Lemons, Slash,
Angst, and Original Characters)
Genre: Romance and Angst
Author Note: Enjoy :) I know that this story might sound un-original because of
its overly used plot...but I wanted to try it, and I did put a spin on it :
) Please, review!
Tantalizing Blood-Lust
Chapter One
The Inheritance
This night enfolds you
In his black embrace
Artificial light falls to the darkness
And each star burns to reveal
A smiling, crimson face
Hear these screams as they pervade the air
The demons coming out to play
Out of the graves they come
To mock light that did once shine
And to set thy soul astray
In all heathen glory
This drum that seals your fate shall beat
Give into the dark temptation
Take apart in your own soul-contamination
This evil you caused, you cannot defeat
Cool in the shroud of darkness
The thought of comfort drawing a tear
As all of your control begins to disappear
Nothing is left for you to surrender
Caught you are in the world you fear
Living in the blur of an addict’s eyes
Everything, a bed of lies
In the land of dead you walk
Mouths of mourners open in silent cries
And everything once held so dear…dies…
The year is 1639, and the city of London is fast asleep, not a single thing
stirs. A young boy, in his thirteenth year, slept fitfully in his little bed
composed of hay and petite meadow flowers; a tattered blanket covered his small
and shivering frame. Bruises, whip marks, and red scars marred what skin could
be seen. Shaggy hair that reached to just below his ears fell fashionably
across his face, and through the strands that seemed to have been spun from
ebony, you could just barely see the lightening bolt scar that represented all
of his life’s travesties. His eyes were closed in sleep, but if they were open
you would have been gazing into eyes that outshone even the brightest and most
beautiful of emeralds.
The child’s name is Harry James Potter, and he lives with his abusive Aunt
Petunia and Uncle Vernon. His mother and father, along with his week old sister
Carlotta, had been killed. Their murderers’ name was Lord Voldemort, the most
feared wizard of all time. Hearing his name could send shivers down your spine,
and freeze your very soul with fear.
But he was gone, thankfully. Harry had killed him when he was just a small
child, barely just one-year of age. Well, that’s what everyone else thought. It
is just easiest to think that way, seeing as how Voldemort had not been sighted
for near 13 years.
But Harry knew better. Harry knew that Voldemort was just laying low,
rejuvenating and renewing his strength while gathering followers to help him in
his cause.
But no one, not even Dumbledore would believe him. They just said he was
dealing with post-traumatic depression.
Typical.
Harry woke up to the clanging of a bell as it announced midnight, shook his
head to clear his mind and sighed.
‘Happy Birthday to me.’ he thought before he gasped as a stinging pain
enveloped his body. He fell backwards onto his bed, agony wracking every breath
that he tried to take, when a whimper escaped. He clamped a hand over his mouth
to stifle more. It wouldn’t do to have his aunt and uncle waddle into his room
and begin to yell at him and beat him for waking them up.
A pain, stronger than any before originated in his stomach and traveled
throughout his entire body, his back arched off the bed. A muffled cry wrenched
itself from his throat as his back arched even further. Another cry tore itself
free and tears leaked from his eyes.
But, just as soon as it began, it had ceased. Harry’s body relaxed into the
mattress, and his breathing slowly evened out.
“What just happened to me?” he asked of the still, moist, summer air. He got up
from his bed quietly and crept into the washroom, being careful so as to not
awake his sleeping relatives. He groped around for the matches his uncle left
there, and lit one, transferring the flame to a candle before blowing out the
match. He picked up the candle by the base, and walked up to the mirror to peer
into his face.
He groggily opened his eyes and gasped at his reflection.
His hair was longer than it had ever been before, it reached to about his lower
back. His eyes seemed to hold a hidden power. His skin was more pale, causing
the bruises and marks to stand out even more and his lips had turned a sinful
red. They were also more plump and full. Placing the candle near the washbowl,
he raised one hand and traced his lower lip. His other hand ran through his
hair, feeling the silken texture of his once coarse hair. His hair seemed to
flow like water, and he couldn’t help but to stand transfixed by the sight.
“What happened to me?” he whispered.
A cold breeze flowed into the room, and Harry shivered at it’s cool caress. The
night seemed to surround him, a palpable blanket shrouding his body, seemingly
protecting him from his pain. The fragile line between awareness, and phantasm
seemed to be even more vulnerable, and Harry reveled in this feeling. He felt
weightless…
Drawing his mind from the physical world into that of the mind he buried
himself deep into his own thoughts. There was music…a music so lilting, and so
filled with pain, yet joyous. Deep and throbbing, full of patient despair, full
of ambitious longing, and full of blazing ardor.
Harry gasped lightly and closed his eyes as a passion so strong, …so
powerful…came over his body, and made his skin crawl with want. His mouth
opened in a quiet moan as he imagined pale hands card through his hair, down
his neck, and over his side. He could nearly feel those hands…those wonderful,
pianist --or violinist‘s-- hands. The kind of hands that could make the most
beautiful of music. The music of the Angels, the music of the Devil…and the
music of the mourning souls that rolled in their lost graves, and reached with
yearning, groping hands to the sunlight that was merely an illusion. These were
the hands that were on him, and these were the fingers that plucked the most
wanton of moans from his sinful mouth. Manipulating him as though he were the
grandest of instruments, being played by the Master of musical fire.
His back arched as an invisible mouth kissed every inch of skin it could reach.
The phantom hands were under his shirt, and the contact was of the icy breath
of Death. The touch was cold…too cold, and it made Harry’s skin burn with fires
unseen.
The wonderful lips slipped over Harry’s stomach, and down the front of his
soiled britches, teasing his aching arousal. He wanted to arch into the touch,
but only met thin air, and he whimpered with distress.
He couldn’t take it anymore. There was a building pressure in his loins, and
the beast wanted out. But before he could climax, the mouth pulled away. His
cry of dismay was soon lost in a cry of joy as the cold hand grasped his
length. The mouth had found his neck, and was feasting upon the skin found
there, as the hand pumped his length. At his moment of completeness, fangs
buried themselves deep into the skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder, and
Harry cried out loud, and he sunk deep into the darkness…the music still
playing softly in the deep chasm of his mind.
Lucius Malfoy woke abruptly as a dull, throbbing pain made itself known in his
chest. A pain such as this had never been a part of his life, and it could only
mean one thing.
‘My mate has reached his time.’ He pushed back the black silk duvet and crawled
gracefully out of his high, ornately carved, four-poster bed. His feet touched
the cold stone of the master-bedroom floor, but he could not feel it. He was
not alive, and he was not dead.
He walked elegantly to a room off of his, and pushed open a heavy wood door. He
walked into the center of the room where a well stood and looked deep into the
depths of the water.
Clearing his mind of all thought except the task at hand, he called forth the
power of his ancestors.
‘Dearest Mother, Goddess of the Land, Fertility, and Death, please grant me
your divine powers to look forth into these sacred waters to see who I am to be
destined with. Mother
Goddess, I pledge my life to you, and will give forth my own blood to be
bestowed with this Godly right.”
A strong updraft of wind curled its claws around Lucius, and he felt the
supernatural powers of the old stones beneath him spin with powers unleashed.
Lucius, without tearing his eyes from the calm façade of the water, reached
into his opulent robes, and produced a dagger with a ruby-studded hilt. The
metal of the dagger was black, and it was double edged. A small but deadly
weapon.
“Blood by blood, I call upon the powers of old…” he placed the dagger at the
palm of his hand, and slashed his hand open. Blood spilt forth, and dropped
into the waters below him.
“I willingly give you this gift, in a token of your guidance and help, Great
Mother.” a breeze flowed through his hair, like a caress of a loving mother and
he smiled to feel it.
The blood flowing into the water began to darken, and soon the entire face of
the water was a cold black. This soon swarmed into something else, and silver
shone forth. Lucius stared transfixed.
“Let me see my submissive. Let me look upon their face and know them, as they
will come to know me in time.”
A picture began to form, groggy at first, then slowly it came into a clearer
focus. A boy, just barely 14 now, was staring into a glass mirror, befuddled by
the change he had gone through. Lucius got only the smallest glance of silk
ebony, and jade eyes full of wonder, before the heavenly sight was stolen from
him, and the magic slowly receded back into its confinement.
Lucius smirked and stepped back from the well, “He’s perfect. Thank you, my
Mother.”
He walked back to his bed, and climbed into the sheets, on his way stripping
himself of his clothing. He placed his robes on a high-back chair so the
servants could pick it up tomorrow and went over to his bed, climbing into it.
He covered himself with the rich black duvet, and relaxed to think about his
mate. The image of his mate swam before his eyes, and his eyes fluttered with
suppressed need. He couldn’t have his mate yet…but, he could have a little fun.
Using his magic, he called upon his powers of seduction, and proceeded to show
his mate a taste of what was to come. He picked up his violin that rested on
its perch next to the luxurious bed, and began to play his elegy. He was a
Master violinist, and knew well the music of the Night.
And while his music still played quietly, he knew his phantom hands were
playing the boy like the finest violin, the greatest of all instruments. And he
knew his mouth was performing devilish sin. Feeling his mate nearing
completion, he changed tactic, and replaced his mouth with his hand on the boys
erection, and in his mind’s eye, he saw himself feasting on the wondrous neck.
At the boys climax, he bit into that tempting throat, and felt a fire never
felt before rise in his chest and consume his entire being. The mental link he
already had with his mate allowed him to feel his mate’s moment of sleep, and
he smiled a small, knowing smile.
“Soon, my mate, soon. Soon you will know pleasures such as you have never known
before. Soon you will know what it feels like to be truly corrupted by the sins
of the flesh, and you will bask in the feeling of dirty secrets, and fraudulent
ardor. Soon my love…soon.”
…To be Continued...
Alright there, the first chapter, all done nice and pretty for you. I hope you
review. --hint hint, wink wink--
***** Flames of Purgatory *****
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, I never have, I never
will. Nor do I intend any infringement upon it. I love the Harry Potter
universe and would never hurt it...only it's characters.
The poem at the beginning of the chapter was composed by William Shakespeare.
It is his one-hundred-and-forty-sixth sonnet.
THANK YOU, for ALL of your reviews! God, you couldn't possibly decipher exactly
how thankful I am for them, they are the things keeping me going, which in turn
keeps this story going. --hint hint--
And so, we begin...
 
Tantalizing Blood-Lust
Chapter Two
Flames of Purgatory
Pour soul, centre of my sinful earth,
My sinful earth these rebel powers array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting the outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
Then soul live thou upon the servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms diving in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more
So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
Harry Potter was shaken awake by the sounds of his aunt's shrill screams. He
groggily opened his eyes but closed them again in pain as a foot connected with
his stomach.
"Get up you dirty freak!" his aunt screeched and kicked him in the stomach
again.
"Ple-Please, don't." he begged quietly, curling into himself.
"Don't talk back to me, you lazy boy! I should beat you now for your
impudence." She, being quite surprisingly strong for a woman nearing her late
thirties, picked him up by the hair and dragged him to his feet, "Naughty boys
such as you should be punished for their cheek."
"Please, don't hurt me..." he whimpered, trying his hardest to not attempt to
twist out of her grasp, that would only make it worse.
She narrowed her eyes at him and pushed him away from her so that he fell
backwards into the wall behind him.
"Just this once I shall let it slip. I am entirely too harried to deal with you
at the moment. Just know, Vernon will hear of this and your punishment will be
swiftly given."
"But, I didn't do anything wrong!" he cried, shrinking from her.
"With you looking as you do now, I say that that should merit enough a good
thrashing! Look at you! You look as though you were a common, peasantry street-
whore!"
"I-I am sorry..." he muttered, looking down at his feet, head bowed in complete
submission.
Lady Petunia Dursley narrowed her eyes at him and stared down at him in
contempt. "Apologizing will not allow you to shirk your duties. Now get out of
my sight and go do your chores. If you are to live here and darken my house
with your nasty, freakish ways then you are going to earn your keep. First you
will fetch my breakfast which I will be taking in my chambers. Then you are to
help the servants in the cleaning of this castle, top-to-bottom. Everything is
to be dusted, the silver to be polished, and the china washed. After you are
through with that, set the table in the West wing parlor for tea. Then, when
that is done go out to the stables and tend to the horses, Vernon is to hold
counsel tomorrow with King Tavorian and Lord Malfoy and Prince Draco. When
finished, polish your Uncle's armor and then you may go with the serving women
and wash the clothing."
'She makes it sound like a treat!' but he did not say so.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia."
"Now, get out of here."
Harry nodded and left his aunt's presence as quickly as his legs would carry
him. As soon as he was out of sight of the door he slowed down and walked
casually the rest of the way to the kitchens. Upon entering he saw all the
servants already preparing the noontime meal.
"Hello Harry, darling." Desira, a chivalrous, pretty-looking girl of about
sixteen years said as he walked through the stone archway. Harry smiled his
delicate little smile and made his way towards her.
"Well, you look different." she said, standing up and picking up her skirts.
She wiped her hand across her sweaty brow and wisps of auburn hair fell from
her messy bun to fall across her face.
"Yeah, I don't know what happened, it just...happened." he finished lamely. She
smiled at him, and he blushed. He always fancied her, but it wasn't a very
substantial crush. He would never tell anyone this, for it would surely get him
stoned, but he preferred men. The one who did know was Desira.
"Hmm, so, what brings you to the kitchens?" she asked while she moved a large
pot to a hook that hung on an iron arm, which, in turn, hung over the fire and
swung the arm so the pot of stew hung over the fire. She stood back, wiped her
brow again, and turned to him.
"Her Ladyship is pining for her meal and has bestowed upon me the wonderful
treat of obtaining it for her." he said sarcastically. He would never let
anyone know how much his aunt really hurt him. He walked over to a table by the
stove and picked up a tray that was sitting there. He looked at the contents
and noticed that they were all over his aunt's favourite breakfast items. It
seemed that everyone was trying to keep her in an amiable mood. Something quite
important must be happening later.
As if reading his thoughts, Desira popped in, "Did you hear, Harry? The King,
and Lord Lucius Malfoy and Prince Draco are arriving today."
Harry's heart skipped at just the mentioning of that name, "Are they? Why?"
"Well...I don't know honestly. But I hear from the people in town that there is
to be a wedding!" Like any normal girl, she brightened at the though of
romance. But, being the more male of the two (hopefully) Harry knew that it was
probably for political matters. Not that he would tell Desira that, it would
ruin her dreams of love.
"Oh? A wedding? Interesting. Whose?"
"The King's daughter, Sky, is going to be marrying Prince Draco Malfoy. He and
his father are to accompany the King today. I think that Lord Vernon is to be
invited to the wedding and they are coming to discuss wedding plans. I am not
sure though, it could be something different. But that's what I am hearing."
"Why would they be coming here just to leave tomorrow?" 'Rather stupid,' Harry
thought.
"You forget, Harry darling, that Lord Vernon is not the most popular of men. He
has never been to the King Tavorian's castle. The King and the Malfoy lords are
escorting him."
"That's pathetic. Even I know how to get there, and I've never been
there...my...sel-- Hold on, did you just say that Sky is going to meet THE
Draco Malfoy?!"
"That was a bit of a late reaction, but I shall ignore it for your behalf."
Suddenly, she sighed longingly. "Oh, if only I were she! Prince Draco is the
more handsome of men and I am sure that he is so romantic. We could take long
walks through the rose gardens at the Kingdom of Maderrgoran and--"
"Sorry to say darling, but Draco would probably have his own kingdom if you
were to marry him."
"But Harry, that isn't the point! It's the though behind it!" She sighed
longingly again.
"I know dear, I know." he paused, and then said, "So, you fancy him, do you?"
his smile was teasing as he placed a cup of warm cow's milk on his aunt's plate
and buttered a piece of fresh bread.
"Oh, Harry, you have no idea."
"Well, I'll admit, he is handsome." Harry said, teasing smile still in place.
He had seen the notorious Draco Malfoy once when he and his father, Lucius
Malfoy had stopped in for a discussion with Vernon about war tactics against
invaders. Dark wizards and muggles alike were seeking to attack London and
seize it for Voldemort. The only offset about the Malfoy lords was that there's
a certain aura around them. They almost don't seem alive. It is also rumored
that Draco and Lucius are actually Death Eaters playing the spy.
"He's more than handsome, Harry! He is the most gorgeous man on the face of
Mother Earth!" Desira gushed while stirring the stew.
"I prefer his father, honestly."
Desira shot him a playful glare and he walked away, laughing, holding the plate
and cup.
He approached his aunt's door slowly and knocked before opening it slowly with
his hip.
"Here you are, ma'am." he spoke softly.
"Put it there." she said crisply, pointing to a table next to the bed. Harry
set the tray down gently, bowed, and left.
A few hours later found Harry scrubbing the stone steps of the Grand Stairwell.
He sung to himself quietly; not recognizing the tune, but singing it anyway.
This was his last task of the day (his aunt had so kindly added it) but he
really wasn't registering what he was doing anyway. He was lost in a far off
world. A world where he was cosseted with jewels and was treated like the
finest of china. He wore highly wrought robes of a deep emerald lined with
silver trimming, and his now long hair was neatly plaited. A small silver
circlet sat elegantly on the top of his head. His eyes glowed with happiness
never before felt, and he noticed that he was surround by castle walls that
were not his Uncle's. He looked, and he felt, like royalty.
'Please never let me leave this dream. In this dream, I am happy.' he begged
the Gods, hoping his plea was answered. Never again did he want to return to
the world of reality. He drowned in his fantasy.
As he scrubbed away, a party of horses was fast approaching. At the front rode
the stately King Tavorian, a jeweled crown high upon his head, and his golden
armor glinting in the sunlight. He was a man of great strength and character.
Next to him was the next highest ranking royalty member in all of England. This
man also wore a crown, but it was on a lesser scale of opulence compared to the
King's, but still magnificent. This man was the epitome of good looks with his
long, golden hair, wintry silver irises, creamy, unblemished skin, and lush,
full lips. The stallion on which he rode itself could take one's breath away.
It was pitch black in color and had striking pale blue eyes.
On the other side of the King rode Prince Draco; the carbon copy of his father.
The only difference between them was that Draco's hair had more of a silver
glow to it, and steely-blue eyes. Behind these three members of esteemed
royalty rode a small party of soldiers, also magnificent looking in their own
way.
A strong gust of wind broke Harry of his whims. He gasped at the intensity and
the dirty rag flew from his hands.
Time seemed to stand still...he was floating, and yet falling. His ears rang
with a loud tune of melodic, albeit impious music that infused in his soul and
washed away all thoughts of fact and realism. He was swimming in vertigo.
He clutched at the stone wall to maintain at least a small sense of balance.
Lord Malfoy, normally a stoic and aloof man also had to use every inhibition he
acquired to not collapse.
'My mate must be near' Lucius mused. The picture of his mate swam before his
eyes once again. Long, ebony tresses accompanied by stabbing jade-green eyes.
Sumptuous ruby-red lips and olive skin; o' so delicious. A beautiful arching
neck that just begged for Lucius to sink his fangs into the soft tissue, party
vessels and muscles and drinking the sweet elixir that is blood. The picture
was one of corrupted innocence. And all of it was his, and his alone.
Lucius allowed himself a smirk as he rode towards what would soon be Paradise.
Harry staggered up the steps towards the main part of the castle. He needed
help; he had to talk to Dumbledore. Surely he would know what was happening to
him. Surely he could tell him.
Gasping, he reached the Grand Hall and set off towards a private room; the door
hidden in shadows. He quietly pushed it open and approached the middle of the
room where a shallow pool stood. He didn't know what the purpose of it was, and
he didn't know where it came from. All he knew was that is seemed to have
magickal properties, which proved that this was not the Dursley's original
castle -- this castle that held ancient powers abroad. The Dursleys harbored no
magick in their veins and resented their nephew for the fact he did. They
begrudgingly took him in when Voldemort murdered the Potters, but put him to
work like the common slave, when in fact, Harry's mother and father were higher
in rank that the Dursleys could ever be.
When he was at the pool, he closed his eyes and cleared his mind of all
thought.
"Show me Dumbledore."
The image swam before him, and finally the old, wise face of Dumbledore
materialized before his vision.
"Harry, my lad, what's the problem?"
"Sir, I was wondering if you could maybe help me?" Harry looked hopeful.
"Might I ask with what?"
"Strange things have happened."
Dumbledore's face grew serious. "Explain."
"Well, ever since my birthday yesterday I have been having really strange
feelings of...lust." The last word was spoken meekly and he quickly rushed into
the rest of his explanation. "Not only that, but as you can see, my appearance
has changed, and I always have a burning pain in my heart."
Dumbledore's face grew even more serious as he mulled over Harry's words.
"You have all the attributes of an Incubus, Harry."
"An Incubus?"
"An Incubus is a vampyre that feeds off of sexual emotions and the act of sex
itself. It's female counterpart would be the Succubus, and then, of course,
there are the blood-suckers, mainly descendents of the Carpathians."
Harry paled, and as he spoke, his voice shook. "V-vampyres?" he squeaked.
"Yes, but like I said, Incubi do not feed on blood, only sexual energies."
Harry shook his head; bemused. "Professor...I'm not entirely so sure as to how
I could possibly be an...Incubus."
Dumbledore sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Harry. I
really don't know myself; I have no answer for you. I'll visit you soon, at the
latest tomorrow at Sundown and I'll bring with me anything I have found on the
subject, and how you came to be one."
"That's fine...but..."
"Don't worry about your relatives, Harry. With the way things are playing out,
I really don't think that you'll be with them much longer."
Harry found it most un-nerving that without him even speaking Dumbledore seemed
to have known exactly what was on his mind. "What do you mean, Professor?"
"I cannot elaborate, just trust me on this."
Harry sighed. "Alright." The image of Dumbledore wavered for a moment and then
was gone.
"Damnit, I wish he wouldn't talk in circles." Harry growled and walked out of
the room, being careful so that no one saw him make his exit. After leaving, he
wandered aimlessly around the castle, stuck in his thoughts.
'What happened earlier? Why is this happening to me? Does this have anything to
do with Voldemort? Is this some sick, twisted mind game of his?' The mantra
inside his head continued to play. So many questions without any answers.
He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard voices coming from down the
corridor. There was the King's strong, proud voice, his Uncle's unpleasant
squawk, and Draco Malfoy's arrogant speech. But all of that was trivial
compared to the deep, debonair tone of the voice that answer their comments. He
felt shivers creep up his spine at that voice. It was like chocolate; smooth,
elegant, beautiful...with a darkness hidden in its depths. Harry's skin crawled
and a moan emanated from his throat without his knowledge. Images came to mind
of him, lying in a bed that held such a mysterious grandeur to it; he could
feel the evil lying in wait underneath. But yet, he felt safe. Above him was a
man of such beauty that it stole his breath right from his lungs. Freezing
silver eyes bore into his soul as a devilish mouth twisted into something akin
to a smile; promising painful pleasure to come in many a wave.
Harry sunk to his knees as he felt hands once again upon his flesh. Those cold,
violinist hands that has wrenched such sweet ignominies from his mouth just
last night. Those hands that had played him like a violin and had made him feel
things never felt before.
The footsteps were approaching faster and Harry heard his Uncle ask Lord Malfoy
if everything was all right. He wondered briefly where the King and the Prince
had gone before that wonderful voice of debauchery shot another bullet of
desire straight into his very core. With every wave that crashed over his
senses, the harder it was to move. But he had to! Unspeakable things would
happen to him if his Uncle were to see him when he was entertaining such
important guests.
He was panicking. He had to get out of there! Trying to drive away his unholy
thoughts, Harry staggered to his feet and made his way painfully down the
corridor. On his way he came to an unlocked door and quickly pushed his way
into the room. He quietly shut the door and collapsed gratefully against the
old wood; groaning. Gasps forced their way from his throat as the phantom hands
grew in their intensity and his mind replayed the memory of that luscious
voice.
Growing desperate for release, his hands crept their way down his body, pausing
to caress his nipples through the worn cotton of his shirt. His other hand
continued down and pressed against the prominent bulge that was crying for
skin-on-skin contact. His hand slipped below the waistline of his britches and
with teasing, light fingers he caressed his erection; a satisfied smile greeted
the world.
Speeding up the tempo of his touches on both focal points of pleasure, he felt
the lust in his body thrum through is body in a dark cadence; a mixture of
beautiful pleasure and pain. His scrotum tightened and with one final pull on
his manhood his semen was ripped from his body and white hot pleasure exploded
in his mind and raced though his entire body as he ejaculated.
After it was all over, he collapsed against the door once again and tried to
get his breathing back under his control.
"This...cannot be healthy..." he said to himself before he succumbed to the
darkness licking like a lover at the edge of his mind.
Lucius Malfoy, with some difficulty, held in his growls of lust, and held in
the urge to literally dive down the hallway towards his awaiting prize. His
body ached with the illicit lust he was feeling, and his jaws tingled. His
fangs wanted to make themselves known and go embed themselves in his mate's
throat.
He could smell the want oozing from his intended, and a barely audible moan
slipped over his lips. He wanted to touch his mate; to kiss, and bite, touch,
and claim, and fuck. But he couldn't. He was on strict orders from the Dark
Lord to ascertain as much knowledge as was possible from the tub-of-lard
walking next to him. Good thing the King was with them of else Lord Vernon
would have been dead and buried.
Lucius, angered even more that he was being held back from claiming his mate
called again upon his powers of seduction and set about torturing the boy from
afar, using the phantom hands that he had the night before. He relished in the
feeling of his mate arch beneath the invisible touch; such a responsive mate!
The moans he spoke was the music of Paradise. Lucius was not a Christian man,
but he assumed that this would be akin to their Heaven.
"Lucius?"
The voice of the King snagged Lucius from his thoughts, "Yes, my King?"
"What is the date of the wedding again? I have forgotten. I have too much to do
at this moment to remember dates."
Before Lucius could answer, Draco darted in.
"It is a month from now, your highness, on April 14th."
Lucius scowled, "Draco, don't interrupt."
"Leave the boy be, Lucius."
Lucius bowed his head in acquiescence, and the King turned to Draco.
"Sky cannot wait. The only thing she speaks of is marrying 'the Draco Malfoy'."
Draco smirked, but it was quickly hidden when Lucius admonished his arrogance
with a stern glance. Instead, he opted for chivalry.
"I am ecstatic as well, my King. Your daughter is a fine specimen. It will be a
pleasure and an honor to marry such a fine woman. You did a splendid job in
bringing her up! And I can see where she got her beauty from; she has your
eyes, sir."
Lucius rolled his eyes.
The King laughed heartily and shook his head, "You flatter me, Draco." he
slapped Lucius on the back.
"Great job raising him, Lucius. He'll be able to talk his way into any women's
bed."
"Thank you, your Majesty."
"Now!" the King clapped his hands together, "Let's talk of the dowry."
"Oh! My King!" Vernon shouted, suddenly ecstatic.
"Yes, Vernon?"
"I just remembered, Lord Lucius has bought my finest mare for your dowry."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes! If you would like to observe her and deem her worth we could go on to the
stables."
"No, that's all right Vernon. Any horse bought from you should be worthy; you
breed wonderful horses."
'That's about the only thing he does right.' Lucius thought.
Lucius cut in before Vernon could respond. He was getting tired of this
chatter. He wanted to get rid of them and go to his mate.
"Still, my Lord. I believe that it would be best."
"Well..."
"I will see you at dinner." He began to walk towards that wonderful scent.
"Father?"
"Lucius, are you all right?" Vernon asked.
"Fine. Fine. I just wish to go for a short walk."
"Alright. We'll talk more of the wedding at dinner." The King said and turned
around to go to the stables, followed by Draco. Lucius had already begun to
walk away from them and did not realize that Vernon was not following them.
"Lord Malfoy! Wait!"
Lucius cringed.
"Lord Malfoy!"
"Be quiet!"
"My Lord, I..."
"Save it for dinner. I wish not to have company at this moment."
Lucius turned around and walked away, picking up pace; Vernon having to jog to
keep up.
Something was wrong. The boy's aura was moving away from him; Lucius almost
growled, but then felt his mate's orgasm. The power radiated off his mate, and
the passion behind the eruption washed over him causing him to stop in his
tracks. Just ten feet away, a closed door stood, and beyond that door was his
mate. He itched to go to the door, but he had things to do. Damn the Dark Lord
to HELL!
Sighing in resignation, Lucius began to walk again. Vernon's clumsy steps and
repulsive talk also resumed. With one last, longing look at the door where his
mate lay after his climax, they moved away. But in his mind, Lucius promised
himself that soon the boy would be in his arms. Tonight, at the latest.
Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he stared bemusedly at his surroundings.
'Where am I?' he wondered, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He shook
his head to remove the fuzz and his nose caught a scent.
He smelled sex.
The smell of it brought back what had happened earlier that day and he fell
back to the stone; groaning.
'This cannot be happening to me.'
He stood up and opened the door, glancing out into the hallway to make sure
that no one was around. It was getting dark...he could see the sun setting
behind the mountains through the large windows of the castle. He slipped out of
the room and began walking down the corridor, lost in his musings. When he
realized that he had been walking for quite awhile, he was at the doorway that
led into his aunt's private gardens. Petunia adored roses. She had an entire
garden dedicated to the tender blossoms.
Something compelled him to open the door, and walk in. But if his aunt found
out that he had ventured into her sacred gardens, then he would be severely
punished. He tried to walk away, but came back to the door moments later;
staring at it. He just couldn't walk away. Something just wouldn't let him
wander off.
Stealing his courage, he took a deep breath and opened the door. The heavy wood
fell back against the stone wall of the castle and he stepped into the scented
sea of blossoming flowers. He walked a little ways down the stone path, when
the first ray of moonlight shone on a bench off to his right and tangled itself
in the brilliance of blonde hair.
Harry's breath caught in his throat as he set eyes on the man that lounged on
the bench. There was only one person with that hair. Not even Draco's hair
shone with that utmost brilliance.
Lucius was staring at him with cold, icy, silver orbs. They were the exact eyes
from his...dream? No, what happened earlier that day was too strong; too real
to be a dream.
Lucius moved from the bench with a fluid grace and he began to walk towards
Harry. Except, it was more of a predator's stalk that a walk. The feral look in
that wintry gaze made Harry's stomach clench. He gulped and began to step
backwards, but stumbled and fell hard to the stone path. He scuttled backwards,
but Lucius pursued until he had Harry pressed against a wall, hidden among the
rose bushes. They surrounded him and Lucius, and Harry felt trapped.
"Don't fret, my emerald. I won't hurt you." Lucius whispered, bring his hand up
to caress Harry's cheek.
"Wh-what are you d-doing here, m-my Lord?" Harry stuttered, unconsciously
leaning into the soft caress.
"I came here to claim you, my mate."
"M-mate?!" Harry squeaked, trying to move farther backwards as Lucius pressed
his tall, muscular body against his own.
"Yes, mate. Why, don't you know your heritage?" Harry shook his head, and
Lucius snorted.
"Typical. I am going to have to speak to Dursley about that. No doubt it is his
doing. But, no matter. There's time enough for that later. Right now...all I
want...is you."
"M-me?" Again, Harry squeaked. Lucius brought his face closer.
"Yes, you, my beautiful emerald...my exquisite submissive."
With those whispered words, Lucius place his mouth against that of Harry's and
licked at the full bottom lip, encouraging Harry to open up.
Harry's entire body went rigid, and suddenly, he was a puddle in Lucius's arms.
He opened his mouth to the questing tongue and groaned when it snaked in to
explore his mouth. With each second, the kiss became more possessive.
Lucius growled in happiness as Harry opened up to him and he set out to explore
the territory, marking every corner and crevice as his. His hands explored the
brunette's back, clutching at the skin.
Soon, however, his touch became more meaningful, and he slipped his hands into
the back of Harry's britches, fondling the twin globes. His mouth moved away
from Harry's to travel over his jaw and down his neck, where he immediately
began to suck at the erratic pulse. His fangs itched to come out. The burning
fire of the blood-lust crashed upon him, and he felt his canines beginning to
elongate. Quickly, he pulled away from the tempting neck, choosing instead to
look upon his submissive's flushed face.
He was beautiful. Eyes half-mast; lust shining forth from the depths, lips
redder than ever before from all the kisses, a beautiful blush stained his
cheeks, and a large love-bite marred the pale skin of his neck.
Lucius smiled at the image, un-wittingly baring his fangs. Harry gasped and
stared at the long, pearly, glistening fangs, and hesitantly reached out with
one hand to touch the pointed end of one. They were very sharp, and Harry cried
out sharply as it punctured his finger with only the minimal of pressure.
Lucius's eyes immediately pin-pointed the beading blood and he leaned forward
to suck the digit into his mouth; savoring the taste. He moaned at the taste
and sucked at the finger harder, willing more blood to the surface. When there
was no more blood, he turned Harry's hand over and bit into the flesh of his
wrist, sucking at the heavenly elixir, silver eyes slowly turning crimson.
Harry whimpered in pain and his head fell back against the stone wall of the
garden. He was near panic, and could only watch in horror as Lucius suckled at
his skin as a babe would at its mother's breast.
Lucius slowly extracted his teeth from Harry's skin and licked at the wound,
causing it to close. He licked his blood-stained mouth and looked at Harry,
sympathy apparent in his eyes.
"My poor mate. Brought into a world you hardly understand. Adding this burden
of bondage to the burden you already have to carry." Here, Lucius touched
Harry's scar lightly, caressing it with his cold fingertips.
"The poor centre of my Earth. You are now a part of this sinful life. They have
stolen the innocence from you, and have brought you to Darkside's door. But do
not pine for the life you once had. Bask in your new-found freedom, and learn
to pay homage to the Night. Do not wish for mortality, but take firm in hand
your immortality, and thrive in it. Life to you is now taboo, and so, you; my
mate, feed on lust and death. Feed on the lust and death that feeds on man.
Because, once you are dead, there is no going back."
Lucius kissed the frightened Harry once more before putting two fingers to his
forehead, and he whispered: "Sleep."
And Harry slept.
...To be Continued...
***** A Roses Cry *****
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, I never have, I never
will. Nor do I intend any infringement upon it. I love the Harry Potter
universe and would never hurt it...only it's characters.
The poem at the beginning is mine, and it is titled Haunting Memoirs.
Wow...it's been nearly seven months since I've attempted any work on this
story...and now, here I am! I really am sorry for the dreadful wait that you
have had to live through, and I hope a long chapter will make up for that.
Thanks for all the reviews too!!
Alright, now, I spent a LOT of time on the history aspects of this story. And
this is one main reason why it took so bloody long to write this chapter. The
history plays a HUGE part...so...there'll be a fair amount of it. The years, I
admit, are screwy though; another reason with its AU. The years are screwy so
that this would work out.
Some of you may not like this chapter...the majority of it is conversation. Not
a lot of action at all. But...this is necessary to understand what is going
on...and it was fun to create.
The poem was written especially for this chapter. It tells a story in itself
almost.
 
Tantalizing Bloodlust
Chapter Three
A Roses Cry
Lillith, dark sorceress, bringer of night
Creator of lusty, vampyric death
Alexandre, your brother, stolen from light
Locked inside his final breath
Echoes of past life
In the shadows of the trees
Moonlight reflected on the knife
Mockery of the quiet melody
A life so young,
Now on the pyre burning
And by the noose, hung
Kin left to mourning
A family riddled by darkened blood
Scarlet red the evil hungered
And in the blackness there, a crimson flood
Sins of the flesh stealthily lingered
Claws of malice rip at flesh
And scar the innocent heart
Signs of the evil set to crush
And rip the living apart
Heathen demons of old
Knock on your door this night
The warmth forever set to cold
End resistance, lose the fight
The visions playing in your head
Haunting memories of debauched skin
The stain of the red
Bloody figments of past sin
Screams of pain erupted from the crowded corridor. Serving women bustled to-
and-fro; sweat dripping from their brows, as they heated water over open fires
and fetched clean cloths.
A woman of dark brown hair and warm blue eyes kneeled next to the makeshift bed
of hay. In one small, pale hand she held the darker one of her half-sister's.
The other ran through ebony hair.
"Hush, Diamond. Dear sister, it's alright. Look, see? The mother cat purrs when
she births her kittens! Shouldn't you feel happy as well to birth your childe?"
"I cannot, Sylvia! I cannot! It hurts!"
"You bore Alexandre with not a has--"
"Alexandre was begotten on Beltane's Eve, when I was but a young lass! His
father was of the faerie people! Thomas is a man much larger than I! I doubt
I'll last the night, Sylvia."
Sylvia's eyes darkened in her anguish but she schooled her features into a look
of impassivity so as to not alarm her sister further. "I shall pray to the
Goddess that you do."
Diamond smiled and was about to respond when another contraction tore through
her body. Sylvia yelled to the women that it was time and to get ready. They
gently picked up her ripened body and placed her on the birthing stool. Tne
women stood behind her, bracing her, and two more stood nearby with hot water
and towels.
Sylvia kneeled down, ready to grab the child as it came through the birthing
chamber. Looking up at her dearest sister, she spoke in a tone that was firm,
yet compassionate.
"Alright, Diamond, now is the time. When I say three, push with all of your
might." Diamond nodded, eyes closed against another contraction.
"One...two...three!"
Diamond bore down with all her might, breathing heavily with the exertion.
After a few moments, she eased up, panting for air, sweat shining on her brow.
"Good! Good. Alright, another push."
"I-I cannot..."
"Come now, push!"
Diamond once again bore down, this time for longer, 'til finally Sylvia called
out that she could see the crown of the head, and she was allowed a break for a
few moments.
"Alright, Diamond, I want you to push with every ounce of strength you possess
in your body and soul!"
"Sylvia...I cannot! I'm too tired...this...this childe, it's..."
"You can too! You created this childe, it is now your duty to bring it forth
into the world. Now push on three! One...two...three!"
With a quick prayer to her ever-loved Goddess, Diamond gathered all the
strength she would need. Upon the word three she pushed with all the strength
that resided deep in her soul. She was amptly rewards. In a blinding white
flash of exhaustion and joy the refreshing cries of a new born babe pervaded
the air with their sparkling clarity. Diamond heard the women rushing about,
quickly washing the babe and removing the umbilical cord. Sylvia herself
renewed the hay on the makeshift bed and moved Diamond to it, laying her down
and placing a quilt over her tired and heaving body. She lay there awhile,
floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness 'til she heard her sister's
soft voice once again.
"Open your eyes, Diamond. Greet your childe."
Her eyes slid open and she embraced the childe, smiling happily. All the women
congratulated her on her successful birth and for having such a beautiful babe
before they ran off to relay the news to the men waiting in the conference
hall. But Diamond only had eyes and ears for her infant. Barely just thirty
minutes old and she held high intelligence in her clouded eyes that were still
a newborn blue. Diamond was soon reminded of the prophecy that revolved around
her second-born.
'A childe shall be born on October 31st in the year A.D. 36. Harboured in her
blood is a dark magick never before felt to mankind. An evil force unknown will
be created at her fingertips, her own kin to be broken by her sinister ways.
The demons she holds will soon consume her, and she will forever be sentenced
to Dante's halls.'
Diamond looked sadly upon the suckling babe and sighed.
"My lady? What shall her name be?"
"Her name is...Lillitha."
Harry woke to the echo of the name Lillitha. He felt that somehow that name
rang with a dark past, a past that was directly linked to him. Yet, he didn't
know why. He had never known anyone by that name.
"It was only a dream." he told the roses.
Even as he said it, he knew that he didn't really believe himself. So, he tried
to cling to the vision for as long as he could but the images kept seeping
through his mind like water does through cracks.
"Lillitha...she named her Lillitha." and as he said this, the roses shuddered
as though they were trying to tell him a secret.
Harry hummed in response to the un-spoken words, reaching up to caress a
blossoming flower. Yes, his uncle's castle was indeed, magickal.
"Wait..." he snatched his hand back, as though burned. "Roses..."
He had to leave. The sun was already rising in the East; Harry could feel the
ray's warmth, even through the un-yielding stone of the castle walls. If his
aunt found him amongst her roses there would be nothing left of him.
Carefully, trying not the bother the roses, he crawled out of the place that
Lord Malfoy had trapped him in the night before.
"Lucius..." he whispered, remembering the kisses and caresses; the possessive
embraces...never before had Harry felt so wanted.
"And I am his mate...if only I knew what he meant by that. I must speak with
Dumbledore!"
"You won't be speaking to anyone but the Lord, Jesus Christ once I am through
with you!"
Harry froze, half enshrouded by many a-dancing rose. He stared up at his Lady
Petunia with wild, jade eyes as she stalked towards his meager hiding place.
She approached him as though she were a tiger! But this prowl held none of the
lust and want that Lucius's had held. This hunt was only filled with crimson
intent.
"A-aunt...My Lady, w-what a pleasant surprise..."
She narrowed her eyes at him and he saw her hand snake out. He tried to dodge
it, but he didn't move fast enough and it tangled into his long and beautiful
hair; talons digging into his skull and she yanked him from the roses by the
handful of ebony. He cried out at the pain as he felt thorns dig into and rip
through his skin as he was torn from the darkness of the rose bushes. A cry
rang softly through the roses themselves.
"Stop! Please, you're hurting me!" he yelled, trying to tear free.
"I am going to do a lot more to you than hurt you! How do you DARE to enter my
sacred garden?!"
"I...I only wanted to gaze upon them!"
Tears sprang to his eyes and spilled over his cheeks as his aunt slapped him.
"Years ago, I gave you a fair warning as to what would happen if you stepped
across that threshold! And you did not heed it! Now you've tainted them!"
"No! I only--"
This time, she slapped him so hard he flew backwards into the roses and
screamed and cried all the more viciously as thorns dug deep, deep into his
flesh.
"You crushed them, you idiot boy! You crushed them!" Her face had coloured to
an angry puce. "Oh, how do you DARE?!" She raised her foot and kicked him in
the ribs in the exact place she had yesterday morn. Harry whimpered in pain;
the roses whimpered with him.
"Ple-please s-s-st-stop."
Another kick, this one more powerful and dangerously close to his manhood.
"You deserve this, you disobediant childe!"
"No! No, it's not my fault--It's not my..."
Another kick, another cry; he thought he heard his ribs crack. "Last
night...magick--"
Petunia shrieked and kicked his mouth. "Do not speak that word in my prescence
you disgusting, vile, loathesome..." again she lifted her foot to bestow
another hit to the ribs, when a voice as cold as a northern winter's night rain
through the rose garden with a frosty, dangerous, crystal clarity.
"I would advise you to lower your foot and step away from him, my Lady
Dursely."
She slowly turned around and found herself pinioned by the steely-grey irises
of Lord Malfoy.
"My Lord! I am sorry that you have to set your eyes upon this freak. Do not
worry, soon he will cease to be an eye-sore."
Against Lucius's warning, she kicked Harry again and he yelped like an injured
puppy. Lucius's eyes flared and bled crimson. Suddenly he was between Petunia
and her abused nephew, a murderous look set deep in his eyes.
The voice he spoke with was calm, too calm. It was almost frightening, there
was such a malevolent intent, and even his hard-headed and ignorant aunt
stepped back in terror.
"I believe I told you to step away from him, my Lady."
"But...I don't understand..."
"There is nothing for you to decipher. All you have to know is that if I ever
hear of or witness you abusing my m--this childe again, I swear to you, on
pain-of-death, that you and your husband's lives will be morphed into your own
personal hells."
"I..." she couldn't speak through her trembling.
Harry whined as he tried to stand and Lucius, upon hearing the sound,
immediately turned to him and gently helped him up.
"Harry, are you okay?"
He was so gentle! Harry felt his heart flutter.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Thank you." Harry smiled up at him tenderly, heart and
stomach twittering in a mad dance.
A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of Harry's mouth and Lucius's eyes
caught it immediately. Hunger was definite in his eyes, still, there was that
all-consuming concern. Lucius took Harry's face between his hands and kissed
him on the lips, licking the blood away.
Petunia stared in shock and spoke out in a meek and stuttering voice, "My
Lord...why...why do you..."
"My Lady, it would be wise for you to hold your tongue."
"But I...you...he..."
Lucius ignored her and wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, leading him from
the garden. Harry could feel his aunt's fury prickle along his skin, but he
paid it no mind. Lucius closed the wooden door behind them, and his aunt
receded from thought.
"How did you..."
"The roses. It seems you've made some wonderful friends amongst the garden."
Harry smiled through his pain. "It would seem so."
Thank you. He whispered in his heart and heard an answering giggle run through
the castle.
Harry sat in the guest room that had been given to Lucius; a blanket around his
shoulders and a cup of hot milk cradled in his hands as Desira fussed over him.
"Oh you foolish, foolish boy!" she shook her head in pity and finished wrapping
the bandages around his bruised torso.
"Desira, please. Don't mother me."
"You need to be mothered Harry! Now sit still and drink that milk! I heard from
my own mother that it helps against infections."
Harry rolled his eyes, but acquiesced to her wish and stopped squirming and
sipped at his milk. They had been that way for awhile, Harry not being allowed
up and Desira fussing over bandages, when the door opened. Harry looked up as
he felt the prescence of Lucius, and then ducked his head back down to conceal
a blush.
"How is he, girl?" he asked of Desira.
"Fine, my Lord. He'll live."
"Any broken bones?"
"Surprisingly no, my Lord."
"Good."
Harry looked up again at that relieved word and caught the irises of Lucius.
They stared at each other for a few moments and then Lucius quickly left the
room again. Harry and Desira were then left in silence until, finally, Desira
had to break it. She looked up at Harry with a wry look in her eyes.
"Your knight-in-shining-armour, Harry?"
"Hardly."
"No, no, none of that. I saw the way you two looked at one another. And you
know, you were blushing in his arms earlier."
"Desira, please."
"Harry, dear, what's wrong?"
He sighed. "Nothing."
"Don't give me that."
"Truly! There's nothing wrong with me that you need to worry your pretty little
head over."
"I still don't believe you." She stood up, smoothed her skirts over her ankles,
and sat next to him on the opulent bed. "Harry, you know that you have nothing
to fear. Tell me, what's eating at your heart?"
Harry glanced up from his now luke-warm milk and saw her concern and love.
"Well...I just feel like...everything is spiraling out of my control!"
"With what?"
"With Lord Malfoy..."
"Explain."
"I can't."
Desira raised an eyebrow.
"I mean it, I can't. I know that you don't believe me, but I really cannot."
She stared at him for a moment and then smiled. "I'll pretend to believe you
then. For now."
"Thank you."
The door opened again and Harry didn't even bother to look up, thinking it to
be Lucius. Desira, however, was staring at the door in awe.
"Excuse me? Have either of you seen my father, Lord Lucius Malfoy?"
"I...I...well...he..."
Alas, so it wasn't Lucius, instead it was his arrogant son Draco Malfoy, and
Desira was completely floored. Harry hid a smile and came to her rescue. He
stood up, taking Desira with him, and turned to face the door.
"I am sorry, my Prince Draco, but I don't know where the Lord Malfoy has gone,
I haven't seen him since he left about ten minutes ago." Harry sunk into a low
bow, pulling Desira down with him.
The prince sighed. "Alright, thank you."
"You're welcome, my Prince."
They watched as Draco left and the. Desira giggled and fell back onto the bed
in a swoon.
"Oh, he is so handsome!"
"Desira, hush. You sound like a stable-maiden."
"I'm not far from it, Harry. And besides, you must agree with me! Is he not the
most gook-looking man you have ever seen."
"As I have told you time and again, I prefer his father."
'It isn't like I have a choice anymore, anyway. I belong to Lucius now.' Harry
thought.
"But...Lord Malfoy is so...so old!"
"He is not old! He is only 34!"
"And you're fourteen."
"..."
"Exactly."
Harry only sighed and walked to the door.
"And where do you think that you're going?" Desira asked, sitting up on the
bed.
"I have something that I need to do."
"Chores?"
"No, I need to go contact Dumbledore." was the only thing he said before he
walked out of the room, closing the door behind him on a confused Desira.
Harry walked through the castle corridors stealthily. He knew that his aunt was
looking for him, and he had no intention of getting caught on this outing. If
she got a hold of him now, there would be no stopping her. Not even the
formidable Lucius Malfoy would be able to cease her attacks. No, he definetely
did not want her to see him.
The door to the room he was seeking soon came into view and he reached it with
a sigh of relief. Easing it open as quietly as he could, he stepped into the
ebony darkness. Closing the door behind him, he turned to face the middle of
the room where he felt the magick of the sacred pool pulse. Harry breathed in
the familiar aura and allowed a small, content smile to play about his lips.
"Hello, Mother, Goddess of all. I cannot see you but I know that you are here
with me, in this room."
He re-opened the eyes he had closed during his greeting to the Goddess and felt
the magick in the room ripple. Yes, indeed, the Goddess was here.
Harry stepped further into the room and called out in a timid voice. "Professor
Dumbledore? Sir?"
He was supposed to be here. Where was he?
"Harry, my boy. How have you been?"
Harry jumped a bit as the soothing voice rang through the darkness and he
turned towards the farthest corner of the castle room where the voice had
originated. A light sparked and Harry shielded his eyes as the crackling fire
from the candle pierced the blackness. Dumbledore's features were illuminated
with a stark relief and Harry grinned.
"It's wonderful to see you, sir! I've been good..."
"Are you sure, Harry? You sounded pretty worried yestermorn." Dumbledore
motioned for Harry to have a seat.
"Well, sir...I..."
"Yes?"
"Professor,...what do you know about...mates?"
"Mates? Harry, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."
"Well, yesterday, remember when you told me that I had all the attributes of an
incubus?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. "Hmm...yes. Harry, I think it would be
prudent for you to start at the beginning."
Harry sighed. "Last night, after our talk, I ran into Lord Malfoy..."
"You weren't alone with him, were you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked sharply.
"Yes, I was...but..."
"Harry, you are never to be alone with Lord Malfoy again!"
"But, sir!..."
"No. Harry, you are going to have to trust me in this."
"I can't...I have--"
"There will be no disobeying of this, Harry. You can't see him--"
"But he's my mate!" Harry blurted out in anger.
Dumbledore hesitated. "Harry," he started gently, "you aren't even really
knowledgeable of what you are. You entered into your inheritance but two nights
ago. How can you be so sure that you are his submissive?"
"He said I was, and--"
"Just because he said so doesn't mean that--"
"Sir, please! There's this...this feeling I get when around him...and I've
always, for as long as I can remember, had a strong attraction to him! And when
he kissed me..."
"He kissed you?! Harry..." he sighed. "Alright. We won't go into that at this
very moment. Yesterday, you told me about your change and I told you that I
would gather all the information that I could about your lineage. Now, what I
have to tell you may surprise you."
"Sir?"
"Harry, your family history is a dark one. Filled with betrayal, blood, murder,
evil, immorality, and lust. You're too young for me to disclose to you the
information that I am about to, but I must. You have to be aware of what you
have gotten into."
"Sir, with all due-respect, for once I did not do this on my own volition."
Dumbledore smiled at Harry sadly. "Everything does seem to happen to you."
Harry lowered to his head. Everything did happen to him. His parents were
stolen from him, a mad-man was after his blood, he was saddled with abusive
relatives, the future of the Wizarding World rested on his shoulders, and
now...now, he was an incubus...all because of a mysterious inheritance. He had
a soulmate and was forced to live off of sexual acts for the rest of his
miserable life. All he really wanted to do was go lay down in the fields and
cease to breathe.
"Harry?" Dumbledore gently called out and Harry raised his head to look at him.
"Are you ready to learn about your lineage and family history?"
But now he was being given the chance to learn about his faimly. If he died
now, he wouldn't know. He would die knowing nothing about where he came from,
or who his ancestors were. All his life he had wished for this moment, and now,
finally, it had been granted to him. He had to know.
"Yes sir, I am."
"Alright...it all began many, many years ago, near the end of the era B.C. A
human woman by the name of Calantha gave birth to a Sorcerer's childe. They
named the girl Diamond. In her blood, Diamond harboured a dark and evil magick.
You see, her father, Luther, had a mother who was not of this world. Her name
was Desdemona."
"Was she a vampyre? Is that where my inheritance comes from?"
"No Harry. Desdemona was something much worse. She was a demon. Her name
translates as "Of the Devil." She was created by Lucifer himself."
Harry's eyes widened. "Lucifer?" he whispered.
Dumbledore nodded. "Diamond, although she carried this dark magick, never knew
of it. She was a very kind woman. However, her sister, Sylvia, was aware of its
presence. Sylvia dreaded the day Diamond bore children. She knew that the blood
would be passed on. Sylvia, before her grand-mother died, heard Desdemona
holding cousel with her creator. Desdemona said that female children born to
Diamond would have the magick and would be able to utilize it. She never got to
see it though."
"What happened to her, sir?"
"She was murdered. By Luther."
"Her own son?!"
"He was frightened by the prospect of Desdemona maybe hurting Diamond."
"But still..."
"It was a good deed he did, Harry. If he hadn't, any of Diamond's male children
that she had was going to be sacrificed by Desdemona to Lucifer."
Harry paled.
"Do you still wish for me to continue, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently.
Harry nodded.
"Well, Diamond did eventually become ripened with child. It, however, turned
out to be male. Diamond named him Alexandre and Sylvia breathed more freely.
Diamond had had complications during birth and every mid-wife that they
consulted said that she would have no more children."
"But then how did?...Or did Diamond never have a--"
"Let me finish, Harry. Don't get ahead of yourself."
"I'm sorry, sir." Harry smiled sheepishly. He was about to request for
Dumbledore to continue when, in his mind, pictures began to flash by. There was
a woman sceaming in pain and there was another by her side, giving orders.
Then...there was a baby. A babe with raven hair and intelligent blue eyes.
Voices soon mingled with the images. But the only words he could hear were
Sylvia, Diamond, and Lillitha.
A sense of deja-vu washed over his being and he swayed in his seat at the
intensity. Hadn't he seen this before? He was sure he had...
The dream! He was rememebering his dream! Only...it wasn't a dream anymore.
"Professor?"
"Yes, my boy?"
"Diamond had another childe, didn't she? Even though they thought she couldn't"
"Why...yes, she did. But...how--"
"Did she name her Lillitha?"
"How do you of know this, Harry?"
"I had a dream this morning Professor. Diamond and Sylvia were in it...and
Diamond gave birth to a daughter she named Lillitha..."
Dumbledore sighed. "Yes. Even though she shouldn't have been able to, Diamond
did give birth to another childe. A female childe. In this dream did Diamond
say anything about her babe?"
"A prophecy. It said that a femile born in the year 36 A.D., on October 31st,
would be born with dark-blood. It stated that she would break her own kin...but
that's all I can remember."
"Lillitha. Diamond's husband, Thomas, was the Merlin of Britain at the time. He
was the one who prophesied that about his daughter."
"But why name her Lillitha?"
"Have you heard the myth of Lillith?"
"No, sir."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. It was clear he was enjoying this.
"It's an old tale. According to the myth, God's first attempt at humanity
resulted in an androgynous form both male and female."
Harry's eyes widened. A male and female in the same form? That was
preposterous!
"God thought twice about this being and decided to separate them. He split them
into two halves, creatine one in the shape of a man. This was Adam. The other
was female and God named her Lillith. Bother were rumoured to be created from
the dust of the earth, and should have been equals. But Adam denied the
equality of Lillith and instead strove to dominate her. When Lillith refused
his domination, she left him. She fled and was cast into a dark light. It is
said that she ran to a cave and mated with serpents and spawned a hundred
demons each day.
But Lillith was still sore over losing Adam and when Eve was born from Adam's
rib, Lillith, in her anguish, returned to prey upon the children of their
union. Lillith, in the eyes of many, is a sinful, immoral woman. Some say she
was Lucifer's wife. Diamond, remembering this myth, and upon recalling the
prophecy, named Lillitha after Lillith. Even though she didn't know of the
blood, she could feel in her heart Lillitha would be evil."
"It's so wrong though." Harry felt sick.
Dumbledore smiled sadly. "If it's too much for you..."
"No! Please continue. I need to know this."
Dumbledore nodded and continued. "As the years when by, Lillitha steadily
became more and more sinister. She even bewitched her father's apprentice,
Cathal, to kill her father, Thomas."
"My Lord..."
"Lillitha was angry at her father because he had suggested she entre into a
convent. But she committed darker deeds in later years. One of these deeds
eventually led her to her demise."
"What is it that she did?"
"She ruined her brother's life. She, as she was growing up, had always wanted
to create a creature so evil that she made it her life's work. Her brother,
Alexandre, eventually became this creature. She turned him into something dark.
Something evil."
"What did he become?" Even as he asked it, Harry already knew the answer.
"A vampyre, Harry. Lillitha turned Alexandre. He was ruined. He tried to deny
it for as long as he could, 'til one night he killed three humans and gorged
himself on their blood. But, even though he fed, and continued to feed, he was
still dying inside."
"Why?"
"Alexandre had always been a kind soul. While his sister wanted domination, all
Alexandre wanted was love. But no one wanted him because of what he was. They
all thought him to be a monster. No one would go near him. So, Alexandre took
it out on his victims with either killing them, or turning them."
"So what happened?"
Dumbledore smiled and the bright twinkle in his eyes sparkled all the more
brightly.
"Lillitha realized that she did have a heart, however small it might have been.
In her one act of kindness, and her last act of magick, Lillitha took from her
soul a desire so strong and potent that if it were not sated the carrier would
be driven crazy. She took that passion and fused it with two of her female
bones. One she took from her chest cavity and the other from her pelvic
region."
"Her own bones?"
Dumbledore nodded. "The end product was a female creature that fed off lust."
Harry's eyes widened in a visible epiphany.
"A succubus!"
"And the males are called?"
"Incubi..." Harry smiled as it all began to come together. But then he frowned
and his brow creased in confusion.
"Sir, I don't understand. You told me that I was submissive, I don--"
"Harry, I will get to that. That's later in the story."
"What was my father?" he asked hesitantly.
"Your father was as dominant as they come; very possessive. Your mother had
trouble keeping up with him. But he had a kind heart and loved Lily dearly."
Tears came to the corners of Harry's eyes and he tried as hard as he could to
suppress them, but to no avail. A few tears escaped their chains and slid
gleefully down his cheeks. He wiped them away furiously with the back of his
hand and glanced ashamedly at his Headmaster. It was un-seemly for a boy of his
age to cry. However, the Headmaster did not bat an eyelash. Nor did he raise a
hand in punishment.
"Do not be ashamed of the tears, Harry." Dumbledore spoke gently. "It is all
right that you miss them; you have every right to."
Harry smiled through the tears. What would he be like without this man? Insane?
Dead?
Dumbledore allowed the boy in front of him to gather his wits. "Shall I
continue?"
Harry nodded his consent.
"The woman Lillith created was named Twilight. Lillith, as she created her, had
done so at twilight, every day; she found it most fitting."
Harry rolled his eyes heavenwards.
Dumbledore, ignoring the reaction, plowed on, "As a final touch, she made sure
that all future vampyres and incubi had someone to love and cherish; soul
mates, in a sense."
"Alright...then how did these other species arise?"
"We're not too sure. It could have been one of your ancestors we aren't aware
of that dabbled in Lillitha's creations. There are quite a few decades of your
family's history that never got documented. It also could have been natural."
Harry smiled ruefully. "I always had thought that vampyres descended directly
from Satan. In a way, they did."
"Yes. Desdemona would have been over-joyed about her great-granddaughter. She
had always wanted to create her own creature of evil. I guess Lillitha stole
that from her." Dumbledore allowed himself his own sardonic grin.
"Did Alexandre and Twilight ever have children?" Harry asked when he felt the
silence had stretched on for too long.
"Oh yes! They had a fine baby boy who married a young pure-blood witch by the
name of Amelia. Christopher, the son, and his wife then, in turn, had two
offspring. One male and one female. Now...this is where your submissive incubi
comes in."
"How so?"
"They fell in love."
"Incest?!"
"Of the highest degree. Sean and Christina, from the moment Christina was four,
were in love. They loved together, had children together, and died
together...it is your classic tale of tragedic love."
"What happened to them?"
"A clergy-man got a'hold of them. He poured acid over their bodies and then
left their carcasses to hang in front of the church as a warning to all
sinners. The children from their union were also hunted, but they got away.
Sebastion and Ruby. Those were their n--"
"Harry Potter! Oh, where is that insolent boy!"
Harry froze in his seat.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER! You had best come out now for when I find you you are NOT
going to enjoy it!"
Dumbledore laughed. "Your care-taker?"
"More like my dictator." Harry stood up. "Alas, I must be going. Desire
obviously has it in her mind that I have been out far too late. I am sorry,
Headmaster. We must continue this later."
"Of course, childe."
Harry smiled happily and walked to the door. Upon hearing Dumbledore's exit he
turned to whisper his farewells to the invisible deity; his beloved Goddess.
...To Be Continued...
Well. Even to me the ending of this chapter could be fixed up. However, I did
not want to bore you with 50 pages of Harry's ancestral history. I promise to
you though that it will come. All in due time.
***** A Roses Cry, part II *****

Author's notes: Harry comes into a strange inheritance. Not only is he to be a
submissive partner to someone who could get him pregnant, his dominant just has
to be the right-hand man to his greatest enemy.
===============================================================================
Hehe...it only took three days to write this! Mind, it is rather short...and
this is something I need to apologize for. I know you guys do not like short,
"filler chapters" but after the long, monotonous history of last chapter, I
thought this might be a nice reprieve.
Hmm...The roses's seem like a recurring theme, no?
And, as a special treat...I dedicate this particular chapter to
deamoninwhite...for her inspiration and just being there for me as I trudged
through this. Her support and her love for this fanfic made me want to just
keep going and get it out, so that you all could enjoy it as well. Kudoz to
her!
Please, enjoy!
The poem at the beginning is mine...written especially for you :)
 
Tantalizing BloodLust
Chapter Four
A Rose's Cry, part II
Under the castle arch, the Lord and his mate
A star-crossed pair -- Love chosen by Fate
The moon a goddess, casting her faerie-tale glow
Racing through blood -- passion starts to flow
A kiss bestowed upon crimson lips
Hands bruise flesh upon tender hips
Heated pleas fill the air for salvation
"Please, oh please!" -- needing damnation.
Lust runs rampant through molten veins
Inhibitions yanked from their chains
Mouths open in moans, hands race over skin
"Please, don't stop!" -- needing the sin
Ebony hair twined with spun gold
Breath stolen by possessive hold
Eyes meet and suddenly...passion fades
Replaced with the sting of Love's blades
The stars! -- how they twinkle and dance
Singing: My, oh my! Such lovely romance...
Here grows a love that will never die...
A story told by the rose's cry
 
Desira loomed at the end of the dimly-lit corridor. Her hands were placed upon
her hips and she paced the floor, muttering some obscenities under her breath.
A fevered glare was set in her irises. She must be worried about something...
"Desira?" he asked softly.
In mid-step she whirled around, gaze turned wild with fright, before she
recognized Harry. She visibly relaxed and then rushed forward. Grabbing him by
the wrist she began to tug him back down the corridor.
"Come, Harry! We must hurry!"
"Desira, please! What's got you all in a'bother?"
"No questions! There isn't any time. Please, hur--"
Harry dug his heels into the stone and stood his ground firmly. "I am not going
anywhere 'til you tell me what it is I am hurrying to."
"Lord Malfoy -demands- your presence! I was sent to fetch you. I believe him to
be leaving soon!"
At those words, Harry didn't need anymore pressure. He quickly turned and
walked down the corridor at a fast-pace; Desira was barely able to keep up.
"Where is he, Desira?" Harry asked feverishly, near pleading.
"West garden...central wall..." she panted.
Harry nodded and picked up speed, nearly sprinting down the corridor. Desira
stayed behind, smiling at his retreating back.
As he entered the garden he slowed down to a walk, trying to catch his breath.
"Central wall...central wall..." he muttered, trying to find his Lord.
A light snagged the corner of his eyes and he turned towards the West, where
the source was coming from...there!...
It was breathtaking...
There, standing beneath an arch constructed of soft rose marble stood Lord
Malfoy. Vines dipped in a rich green twined lazily around the marble and hung
down, half-concealing the stately Lord. Glimmering light-bugs swam lazily
through the air, shining their soft yellow light upon Lucius's handsome
features. Deep roses of red sprung from the vines and filled the summer air
with their sweet perfume. On the horizon the sun was setting and the sky was a
burning orange with veins of red playing and dancing through it like blood
through veins...
Beautiful.
Lucius threw him a soft smile at Harry's floored countenance. He offered his
young mate one strong hand and Harry took it, closing his eyes as he was pulled
tightly to Lucius's side.
"Do you like it?" Lucius whispered into his hair.
"Yes! I...it's wonderf--beautiful!...how?"
"There are many kinds of magick, Harry. But the one that is always forgotten is
the simple, yet majestic beauty of our Mother Earth. See? She has dressed up
for you tonight, my emerald." A kiss was placed gently upon his forehead.
Harry sighed in happiness and closed his eyes. But then his brow creased in
agitation and he tensed his shoulders.
"What is it, my pet?"
"Do you have to go? We've barely just started...and I already feel like I
cannot live without you." Harry blushed.
Lucius sighed. "Yes, I must. It is my duty."
Harry pouted. Lucius chuckled at his childish, yet adorable reaction, and
turned Harry to face him, forcing him to look into silver irises.
"I am Lord Malfoy, Harry. I must do what my king tells me. But, I swear to you,
with every beat of this cold heart that all I want is to claim you, here and
now; make you mine...forever."
Harry's eye-lashes fluttered as a wave of desire crashed over his being. At the
last moment they stayed open and the emerald irises were filled with such
desire that Lucius could not help but feel the need to fully claim this
luscious, innocent boy.
With a soft growl of deep longing, Lucius used his grip on the boys chin to
pull him into a deep kiss. A moan bubbled in Harry's throat and spilled forth
as he wrapped his arms tightly around Lucius's neck. Pale hands grasped at slim
hips and sharp fingernails pierced through soft cotton to spear the soft flesh
hidden there. Lucius was losing control -- he could feel the Mother moon
beating down upon his back, chanting: claim him! He's there, willing! Take
what's rightfully yours!
The snarl that tore through his throat was so loud and intense, Harry felt it
thrill through his body and mind. He was almost frightened by the intensity!
The mouth that had been trying to eat him alive tore away and attached itself
to the side of his neck, while one pale hand soared up to rip the soft white
cotton shirt from his torso. Harry groaned and clutched at Lucius's back
tighter, cluthching on for dear life.
He could feel his body being lowered to the ground and his naked back touched
soft moss and a bed of rose petals twined with leaves. Lucius followed him
down, pulling off his heavy robes along the way.
Harry stared up at his disheveled mate. He had never seen the Lord this tousled
before. It was nearly...ethereal. Harry's body tightened with want.
With his mate beneath his body, Lucius felt the onslaught of lust wash over his
sense again, stronger than it had before. The smell of blood hung heavy in the
air, mixing with the scent of the roses, creating a natural aphrodisiac that
sang through Lucius's body, bringing it to a boil. It was awakening his lust
for blood.
Bending down at the waist, Lucius ran the tip of his tongue along the plane of
Harry's navel and stopped at the hip where his wicked fingernails had pierced
the skin. With small licks he lapped up the droplets of blood. With just that
miniscule taste of Heaven's-most-potent-liquor, Lucius could feel his fangs
beginning to elongnate. With gentle care he used them to slice two shallow cuts
into the flesh and reveled in Harry's hitched breath. He sipped at the crimson
and closed his eyes in bliss.
Heavenly...
He raised back up to look down upon Harry's face and Harry found himself
staring into a pair of glowing red eyes.
A deep longing rose in his small frame for this man of supreme, yet deadly,
beauty.
"Please..."
What was he pleading for? He didn't know! But he wanted it...he needed it...
"Please what?" Lucius growled, voice having taken on a more primal tone.
"Please...please!"
Lucius smiled and, without even Harry noticing...ripped off both their
breeches. In one swift and graceful move, he brought their erections together;
grinding down into the small hips below his.
Harry howled and wrapped both legs around his mate's waist, arching up into the
sinful movement. He didn't know what was happening...he could swear that he
wasn't himself...he would never have acted like this before Lucius! -- and yet,
it felt right. Something clicked inside his soul and nullified all inhibitions.
Maybe...maybe it was because of what he was now; an Incubus.
Or maybe...
But he never had time to finish the though, because Lucius was now erratically
thrusting his hips into his and biting up and down his chest. Harry looked down
and could see his torso slowly turning polka-dotted with twin-sets of vampyre
bites.
A more animal side of his took over, and he was suddenly pulling Lucius's head
up and burying it in the crook of his neck. Without even thinking he turned his
head to the side; offering himself completely. And he was not disappointed.
Lucius buried his fangs deep into his tanned flesh, drinking up the blood that
spewed forth in a thick wave.
The feeling was so erotic, so un-believably arousing! that Harry found himself
being pushed over the precipice and into a pool of bubbling-hot miasma. He felt
as though his body were on fire! and he ached. Oh, he ached.
Lucius growled all the more loudly, and one last hard thrust had he and Harry
arching into each other, spilling forth their seed.
Coming down from their high, they collapsed against each other; Harry burrowing
into Lucius's strong chest, and Lucius reverently removing his fangs from
Harry's abused neck and closing the wound.
They lay like that for quite a few hours, basking in each other and Nature,
looking deep into one another's eyes.
Passion had faded entirely. What was left in its wake was an affection so deep
and piercing, they knew they were falling in love. It was so profound, it
brought tears to Harry's eyes. Above them the stars twinkled and shined, almost
as if they were sharing in their moment...and the roses...you could hear the
roses whispering and giggling amongst themselves, sharing the story of a love
so true how could it ever die?...
Harry groggily walked around the castle. It just wasn't fair! Why now, of all
times?! They had just started their relationship! and his Lord was already
going to leave him?
Harry stopped walking and turned to hit his head against the castle wall.
"I must be going mental! What right do I possess that allows me to accuse him
so un-justly?! He's Lord Malfoy, right-hand-man of King Tavorian! Of course he
has to stay true to his pledge and be loyal to his King and the kingdom...stop
being selfish, Harry!" he ranted to hisself.
Pushing away from the wall he continued on with his walk, meandering aimlessly
around. And so, as a result, he was quite shocked when he impacted with
something solid...and tall.
"Watch where you're going, peasant." A bored and drawling voice floated down to
his ears. Harry looked up slowly and was caught by eyes nearly identical to his
Lord's.
"Lord Draco! Oh my, I apologize profusely!" Harry stood up , startled into a
deep fluster, and began to wipe imaginary dust from the stately outfit. "Is
there anything I can get you, sir? Would you like anything to drink? Water?
Tea? Perhaps some brandy? I--"
"Please...stop touching me..." Was it just him...or did Lord Draco sound like
he was holding in laughter?
Harry took his hands away, as though burned, and looked down at the floor in
embarrasment. Oh, but he was such a girl!
There was a few moments of silence, and then: "You look familiar." Harry could
feel eyes roaming his figure suggestively.
Harry didn't know how to respond, so he kept silent.
"Yes...you're that boy my father is courting. What is your name?"
"Harry Potter..." he answered meekly.
"A Potter, eh? I thought that line died out years ago. So, you're the last one
then."
Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. What was he getting at?
"How old are you?"
"I turned fourteen two days ago."
"Young. But very pretty. I'd say you're probably a virgin? Yes--yes. I can see
it in your eyes; innocence. I'm sure you'll be quite the pretty pet for
father." He leered at Harry suggestively.
Harry felt his ire rise, and he flushed red with anger. But still...he kept his
eyes trained on the floor.
"You are free to look at me. I'm sure your pretty eyes are aching without the
sight of me."
Oh, how arrogant this man was! The pure conceited-ness left a sour taste in
Harry's mouth. What right did this young Lord have in speaking to him as though
he were some breeding mare?! The nerve of him! Harry squarred his small
shoulders and stood at his full-height -- a whole half-foot shorter than the
idiot in front of him-- and spoke hotly:
"How do you dare speak to me as such?! I am your father's mate! not some whore
that spreads his legs willingly for every male with even the slightest
indication of a penis! Do not presume that just because I am a servant of this
here household that I am going to lie back and allow you to treat me thusly!"
Harry closed his eyes. He was in for it now, he just knew it...but when he
realized he wasn't on the floor with a smarting cheek, he re-opened his eyes.
Lord Draco looked...amused! He didn't know whether to be relieved...or
frightened silly.
"Good. This is very good. I like this. Spunk. You'll be good for my
father...and you'll keep him in line.
"Sir?" Yes. Definetely frightened.
"My father has had a lot of...disappointments, shall we say. I hope you will
not be one. The man deserves some happiness. You won't upset him, will you,
Potter?"
"No...I...wha--"
Draco smiled. "All you need to do is love him." and he turned and walked away,
leaving Harry behind, confused out-of-his-mind.
"That was...odd..."
Did Lord Draco just -smile-...at HIM, a lowly servant? Surely not...
Harry shook his head and walked away.
When he finally got back to his little room, he flopped down upon his small
cot. The day had been very trying. First, the run-in with his Lady Petunia.
Then the long discussion with his Headmaster, his tryst with Lucius, and then
Lord Draco went mental on him!
Harry was ready for sleep.
A splash of red caught his attention and he slid off his bed, walking over to
his dresser. There, laying on the scarred surface, was a large bouquet of the
reddest roses he had ever seen! He picked them up and sniffed their wonderful
fragrance happily, lovingly running his fingertips over the gently petals. He
snagged the corner of a piece of parchment that was snuggled into one of the
roses. Taking it out gently, he un-folded it and smiled at the elegant script
penned in green ink.
"My dearest emerald,
I know you are upset by my leaving you, but, alas; it cannot be avoided. But,
never fear, for I shall return to you soon. And I will claim you as mine. I
will be leaving behind my companion for you. He will protect you since I
cannot. His name is Cyrus. You will find him sleeping in the bag, coiled around
the roses. These roses are the ones from the gardens, and will offer you
guidance as well. They are immortal roses, so they will never leave you. I
believe you have already made friends with them.
Take care of yourself, my pet.
Your mate,
Lord Lucius Malfoy
Harry placed the parchment on the desk lovingly; eyes misty with tears. He
opened the brown paper that ensconced the roses and gasped. Coiled there around
the dark green stems was a beautiful black serpent with piercing crimson eyes.
He lifted it and wrapped it around his neck, returning back to his bed, smiling
all-the-while.
He fell asleep like that: the serpent twined around his neck and the roses
resting on his chest. The roses themselves could not sleep. They twittered
madly with glee.
Oh, yes. Here was a love that would never die.
 
...To be Continued...
***** Song of Death, part I *****
Author's notes: I am so sorry for the lack of updates. Life has been hectic
lately, and then I go and decide to try NaNoWriMo. Now it is time to come and
treat you guys. I know I said that I would get it to you by December, so I hope
none of you are complaining about a sooner updated. I promised you an update
before Dec. 8th, and here it is.
Please, if you read the fanfic, drop me a line. I love hearing what you think,
and I will try to respond to all the reviews. Also, I have begun to post this
on my writing community. The link to the community can be find in my biography.
With no further dawdling, I give you:
 
Tantalizing BloodLust
Chapter Five
Song Before Death, part I
Listen closely, there's a story I need to tell--
A woman, by her own demons, betrayed!
Dark Mistress, we bid her farewell.
Listen, children...no need to be afraid:
Once upon a night, in shadows of darkened light
Torn spirit, stolen by Devil's kiss
Shrine of thy lonely spite!--
Hast thou found thy bliss?
Floating by on the river's waves
Night's coldness cleaves--
A thousand souls from rotten graves...
Falling away...dreams through a sieve.
These demons, thy heart they take
Thou cannot escape, in that, thou art wrong
Ah, darling...how thy bones break!
The sound so beautiful! -- a Nightingale's song!
Clear thy mind of thoughts for salvation
Lucifer smiles upon such havoc wonder
Only by his laugh will thee find redemption
Pealing bells to tear thee asunder!
Tonight a candle slowly burns
The flame a sign of impeding doom
Thy life so deeply spurned
Thy rose has ceased to bloom
Pray not to the God above
Thine hands have caused blood-shed!
Stolen gold from Heaven's dove--
Dost thou love the taste of red?
 
Shrieks of fright startled Harry awake. Groggily he opened his eyes and
grimaced at the sunlight streaming in through a hole in the ceiling of his tiny
haven. Cursing the infernal ball-of-fire, he swung his legs over the side-of-
his-bed and stood. Stumbling over his own feet in his barely-awake stage, he
entered into the corridor that led to the servant's quarters and halted in
amusement.
There, in the middle of the corridor, stood Desira. She was brandishing a piece
of rotten wood at a hissing something and upon looking closer he saw Cyrus
curled a-top a giggling pile of roses a few feet from the distraught girl,
hissing furiously.
Harry didn't mean to laugh but he couldn't contain it, the urge to laugh was
just too strong. Upon hearing his mirth Desira whirled towards him and launched
herself into his arms.
"Oh, Harry! Thank goodness you come!"
"It's just a serpent, Desira."
"That's the point! I am deathly afraid of snakes of any kind! And this one
attacked me!"
Harry sighed and sat on the floor, pulling Desira down next to him. He turned
to the still wary snake and called his name softly. Cyrus weaved his way over,
dragging the protesting roses behind him. Dropping the bouquet in his lap,
Cyrus curled around his neck and nuzzled his chin while sending one last glare
at Desira.
Desira, meanwhile, watched closely as Harry interacted with the serpent he
called Cyrus. She, even through her fear, smiled at the adoring looking in both
their eyes.
"I think you may be falling in love with a snake, Harry."
"You might be right." Harry smiled softly once more and then turned to Desira.
"So, what happened?"
"Well, I came into your room to see if you were awake. Lady Dursley demanded me
to wake you early for morning chores. I saw those beautiful roses lying upon
your chest and thought that you would appreciate me putting them in some water
to keep them healthy for as long as possible. I picked them up to go find a
vase and that...that -thing-! attacked me in the corridor and snatched the
roses right from my arms!"
Harry laughed again but soon stopped at the sight of her thunderous expression.
"I apologize, Desira. Let me explain, please. These roses come from the gardens
that surround the castle. They're immortal roses, and therefore haven't the
need for water. They were given to me by Lu-- Lord Malfoy, as was Cyrus here.
They're here to protect me."
"How is a bouquet of roses supposed to protect you?"
"One would be surprised. I know this may sound crazy, but...Desira, you know
this castle is magickal. Even though you haven't any magickal blood in your
being, you've told me of incidents where you saw the magick. These roses, they
talk. I don't know why...and I haven't an explanation as to how they do it, but
they do. I guess Lu-- Lord Malfoy and I are the only ones who can hear them."
Desira looked thoughtful for a second and fingered the stems of the bouquet.
After awhile, she sighed. " For some reason unbeknownst to me, I do believe
you. I just wish I could hear them."
There was a tense silence, and then: "So, why the snake? Why not a dog?"
"The snake symbolizes the kingdom of Slytherin. I guess it's his way of placing
some sort of mark on me. "
Desira sighed wistfully. "You have all the luck Harry."
"Care to elaborate?"
"You have someone to love you! You have his promise that he'll get you out of
here! What do I have? A lifetime of misery as a servant in this damned
household! Just as my mother had."
"What happened to her Desira?" Harry had never heard the story behind the
sudden disappearance of Andromeda. Any other time that he had asked Desira had
gone silent and wouldn't speak to him for days.
Desira shook her head. "You know it's too painful for me to relate, Harry." A
tear slid down her porcelain cheek. Harry reached over and clasped her hand and
felt another hot tear splash against the back of his hand.
"You have to let it out sometime. You've been holding it in since you were
five, darling. That's 10 years of sustainment! It isn't healthy Desira, you
know this."
She nodded and another tear fell. It was quiet for a few minutes before 'til
she finally opened her mouth and spoke in a quiet voice. "Alright, I'll tell
you. I was but a tiny girl, just learning how to help the ladies during washing
days. My mother, sh--she was working in the kitchens the day it happened."
Desira brought her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead upon her
knees, hiding her face from the world with her long hair. She was silent again.
"What happened?" Harry asked softly, trying not to startle her. He clutched her
hand tighter and felt the trembles wracking her body.
"She was murdered." it came out barely a whisper. The roses in Harry's lap
shuddered and Harry began to absently pet the silky petals as he stared at
Desira in dismay.
"It was a conspiracy between your Aunt and the older servants. They felt that
my mother was too liberal and was filling the heads of the young maidens with
thoughts of love and freedom. Everyone hated her because she had dreams of
better things and would always walk about the castle singing songs. So they
waited 'til she went to tend the the fires in the large oven used for
baking...and they..."
"They?" Harry asked gently.
"Th--they pushed her in to the fire! She never had the chance to scream! I saw
the whole thing...I had been sent to the kitchens to get something, and I saw
them push her in! I know that I was sent there on purpose. They told me later
that it was an accident..." she dissolved into soul-wrenching sobs and Harry
pulled her to his chest, hugging her with all his might. He didn't know what to
say to make it better, there wasn't anything he could do to lessen the sting.
So he opted to just sit there and caress her hair 'til the tears ran their
course.
Cyrus poked his head up and eyed the crying girl in Harry's arms. He weaved
slowly down his arm 'til he was level with Desira's head and nuzzled her cheek
gently. A forked tongue came out and lapped at the salty tears falling from her
clouded-blue eyes. Desira raised her head and gave a watery smile. She slowly
pulled away from Harry and sat back against the wall, taking Cyrus with her and
cuddling him.
"Thank you." she whispered. Cyrus nuzzled her cheek again in response.
Turning her wet eyes to Harry, she gave him another watery smile.
"They allowed me to have her ashes. I buried them beneath the large willow tree
in the courtyard. She loved to sit there beneath the branches when she was off
duty and just think. I remember once, she took me there with her when I was but
four years old and helped me climb up into the lower branches."
The day before she died she told me that she would always love me and that if
it weren't for I she would have no reason to live. She hated life here. Ever
since she were a childe herself she had those dreams of better things. She
dreamt of getting out beneath the cold fingers of her mistresss and traveling
the world. She wanted to fall in love, and she wanted freedom. The man she was
pregnated by she didn't even know! She was raped. There are rumour that it was
the master of the household himself. My mother was very beautiful, you know.
And she was coveted by all the men of the kingdom. She also told me that day
that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to be there for me much longer. I
think she knew..." Desira stopped and smiled wanly. "Mother never had a
chance."
"Desira, why did you stay here?"
"To prove to them that I was strong. They murdered my mother mentally and
physically and I wanted to show them that I, unlike my mother, would not give
in the them, no matter how they tried to break me." She hung her head. "I made
a promise to my mother at the funeral that I would get away, for the both of us
-- I failed."
"No you didn't."
"Yes, I did, Harry! Look at me!" She stood up and her tattered dress fell to
the floor. There was dirt on her face and arms and her hair was all askew
beneath her bonnet. Dirt was under her fingernails and her hands were raw from
scrubbing. "I'm nothing but a slave! and look at you! You have the love of one
of the greatest royals of this century. What do I have? A scrubbrush and an
endless supply of cobble-stones."
Harry looked at her in dismay, for deep down he knew that what she said was
true. He was about to apologize to her when an idea formed in his mind.
"Desire...come with me."
"Where? If we were to run we would surely be caught and then punished."
"Lord Malfoy is sure to come for me. When he does...please. Come with me. We
could get you out of here!"
Her eyes lit-up. "I could see the castle and the courtyard of the Slytherin
kingdom. My mother told me once how beautiful it was! When she was a young
girl, before being sold to your Aunt's mother she took a trip with Grandpapa to
the Slytherin kingdom. O', how she described it! Green pastures with many
a'blooming flower! Roses everywhere and a sky as far as the eye could see! A
castle constructed from green marble with vines running across the smooth
surface! O', please Harry! Say to me that it'll be so!"
Harry laughed. "Desira, I haven't left this putrid castle since I was but a
year old. How am I to know what the kingdom of Slytherin looks like?"
All she could do was shrug.
A few more minutes were spent in silence before Harry stood up himself and
sighed. "I suppose that I shall go put Cyrus and these roses back into my room
and go find my Aunt. I'm assuming she has a list the length of the bible of
chores for me to do?"
"Indeed. She gave you one small reprieve, however."
"Oh, and what would that be? Do I get to dress up in bells and become the
castle Jester?"
Desira laughed. "No, you get to come with me to the market and do some
shopping."
"Somewhere along the line I must have turned female." Harry muttered as he
walked into his room. It only took him a couple moments to return and together
they walked towards the kitchens before Harry detoured and ran up the steps
two-at-a-time and stopped before the door to his Aunt's quarters. He quietly
pushed the ornate door open and stepped into the sitting room. Crossing the
persian rug he came to the door that led to her bed-chamber and rapped quietly.
A harsh "enter" was heard and he softly pushed the door open and entered his
Aunt's bed-chamber. There she was, still a-bed.
"You summoned me, my Lady?"
"Yes, I did, an hour ago. Where have you been?! you lazy boy?"
"I was down in the kitchens. One of the ladies was having some problems with
the stew-pot and I stopped by the help her on my way up here."
"Very well. I have a list of things for you to do and then you may go to the
market with Miss Woodhouse. I would like for you to tend to the horses, and
take the rugs out for a beating. When finished with that take the drapes out of
every room and take those out for a beating as well."
"Is there anything else that I could do for you, my Lady?"
"Yes, I will be taking my breakfast now."
"Of course, my Lady. Coming right up."
He backed out of the room and once he got out of her chambers he rushed down to
the kitchens. He quickly threw together her meal and ran it back up to her. He
wanted to get his chores done as quickly as he could so he and Desira could
have a longer time at Market. It was a rare occasion that he was allowed to go
and he didn't want to miss out.
It only took him a couple hours to finish everything and upon hanging back up
the last drape he whooped for delight and ran towards the kitchens where he
knew he could find Desira. Upon his entering and her seeing him she was sent
into peals of laughter.
"Harry, dear, you can't go to Market looking like you just had a fight with a
dust-rabbit! Come here." She pulled him to her and picked up her apron. Licking
the corner of it she began to scrub his face where dust tracks could clearly be
seen. He tried to push her away but her grasp was like a vice and he never
managed to escape. Only did she let him go when his face was dust-free.
"There, you look at smidgen better. I wish we could do something about those
clothes. However, we haven't the time. Shall we?"
"We shall." He offered her his arm and they walked down the aisle towards the
drawbridge arm-in-arm. It felt good to get out of that stone prison, and they
both felt that their hearts were lighter.
"What is it we need?" Harry asked.
"We need some spices and herbs: Ginger, Nutmeg, Mint, and Cinnamon."
"Don't we grow those in the castle garden?"
"Yes...but we didn't account for that large storm that came and destroyed
everything but the vegetable patch. Anyway, we also need some bolts of cotton
as well as silk. Your aunt would like a new summer dress. A packet of needles
is also needed as well as some thread. Some leather to repair shoes, and we
need to go the the blacksmiths to pick up your Uncle's sword and armor that had
repairs."
"What a list!"
"I know. I've never held this much money in my hand at one time. She also gave
me a bit extra if we're not back at the castle in time for supper."
"That's surprising of her."
"I agree. I was a bit afraid to accept it. I almost half expected her to slap
me as I tried to take the money and tell me that I was too greedy."
Harry laughed.
They walked in companionable silence for a couple minutes before Desira began
to scrutinize Harry.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Instead of buying us a meal with the extra money we could always use it to buy
you a pretty green ribbon for your hair."
"Real amusing, Desira."
"You already look like a woman. I just thought we would help the process on a
little faster."
Harry growled and pretended to swipe at her. She giggled and ran off towards
the Market with him following, yelling threats all-the-while.
They entered the Market-place twenty minutes later and stared in awe. Neither
had ever been there. Lady Petunia usually sent one of her older servants to run
errands. Being sent to the Market was a treat. It was almost like she was
trying to make up for something.
"I bet she's trying to redeem herself after her conduct the last two days."
Desira said as if she read his mind. "After all, Lucius is a very intimidating
man."
"Desira! You had best not let anyone too important hear you call him that!"
"Oh, posh! Harry, you're going to be MARRIED to him! He's nearly family!"
Harry's cheeks reddened. "Desira, do you think that he's the right one?"
Desire scoffed. "Of course he's the right one, you idiot. You're his soulmate,
Harry!"
"I know. But...I mean...well, how do I know that he's a good guy? How do I know
that he is actually my soulmate? What if he is just trying to bed me, and will
leave right after he does?"
Desira stared at him incredulously. "You really are a female under that guise,
aren't you?"
Harry stomped his foot in frustration. "Desira, I'm being serious! I'm
just...I'm just afraid."
Desira's features softened. "Afraid of what, Harry?"
"He's Lord Malfoy! He could have had anyone he wanted, and yet he chose ME; the
Saviour! I just find it weird that a man with his power and his beauty would
chose me. I'm not all that special. What if, when we are together, he gets
bored of me and throws me out to fend for myself?"
Desira sighed and put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, dear, listen. You
are too special, and you are so beautiful. I don't know how anybody in their
right mind, man or woman, could ever discard you."
Harry blushed and Desira laughed. "It's true. I myself had a little crush on
you a couple years back."
Harry wrinkled his nose. "You have a crush on me when I was eleven? Aren't
there laws against that?"
Desira glared and then sighed. "Believe me when I say this Harry, he loves you.
I saw the look in his eyes when he asked me to bring you to him, and all I saw
was love. You two are going to be great together." She smiled sadly.
"What is it, Desira?"
"I only wish that it were I to find true love. It gets lonely sometimes, and it
will be even lonely when you leave the castle."
"Come with me."
Desira looked at him incredulously. "As if your aunt would allow it!"
Harry conceded to that point. They walked through the market in silence for a
couple minutes, just taking in the sites and being thankful for getting out of
the palace for a short while. You never realized how oppressive the walls were
until you got out into the sunshine. They gathered the supplies they needed and
then went over to the soupline to grab a bowl before they made their way back
to the castle.
After they ate, they were making their way back through the Market to return to
the palace when Desira ran up to a vendor and excitedly pointed something out
to Harry.
"Oh, Harry! It's beautiful! It would suit you so well!" She picked whatever it
was up and held it out to him. It was a choker necklace. An emerald the size of
Harry's thumbnail was set in white gold and the pendent hung from a piece of
black velvet ribbon that you clasped in the back. It was a simple but beautiful
necklace.
"Desira, I have no money." he whispered, mesmerized by the emerald. Desira's
eyes twinkled.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oh yes I would." she muttered and turned back to the vendor. She pretended as
though she were looking at the other various items on display, and Harry saw
her nonchalantly place the necklace in her apron pocket. Harry shook his head
and couldn't help but to laugh silently.
"Excuse me, sir?" she called out to the vendor.
"What is it you need, ma'am?"
"How much is this item?" she held up another necklace, this one in peridot.
"34 euros ma'am." The vendor spoke gruffly, his tone deep and guttural.
"I only have 25. Perhaps we can work out a deal?"
The man thought it over. "Alright, missy. What will you give me for this
pendent?" he indicated the peridot. Upon closer look, Harry marvelled at its
beauty. A necklace like that should cost more than 34 euros. Perhaps the vendor
did not notice the value it truly had. The chain it hung from was thin and
white gold. The chain on either end formed into vines that met in the middle
and hanging from the vine was a large rose shaped gem larger than the emerald
currently in Desira's pocket. The leaves of the vine were also done in peridot.
"From the kitchens of the palace I will present to you a goose for your
Christmas dinner." Desira said proudly.
The man's eyes widened. No matter how much jewelry he sold, nearly all his
money went to the taxes that Lord Dursley demanded to keep his household. A
goose would be a treat indeed for his family. His wife tried her hardest, but
could only do so much. Their Christmas dinners consisted of moldy potatoes and
a simple dish of eggs and dry ham. It killed him inside to not be able to do
better for his wife and five children.
"You have yourself a deal, ma'am." He handed over the pendent and Desira placed
on the counter his money. Desira smiled and held it out to Harry.
"Here Harry." She placed the necklace around his neck and there it hung,
glowing against his olive complexion.
Harry gaped. "Desira, how- you can't expect me to accept this," he started to
unclasp the chain, but Desira stopped him.
"Harry, I don't know why, but something inside told me that you must have this
necklace. Besides," her eyes began to sparkle again. "When you are living in
Lord Malfoy's palace, I know that you will treat me to all the jewels a woman's
heart could ever desire."
"Then I will be lavishing you with gift 'til the day you die, Desira." he
paused. "I'm sorry, Desira, but I just don't think that I can marry Luc- Lord
Malfoy. These past couple of days I might have been smitten by his aristocratic
charm, but I have had time to think. I cannot just allow this lord that has
just randomly entered into my life be my only one. I hardly know him. I cannot
believe in fate. Look at where fate has put me; in that god forsaken palace
with my abusive relatives." Harry shook his head and frowned. "No. You can
continue to believe in this "love at first sight" but I will keep my ming clear
and logical. Besides, how could a man that claims me as his and then leaves the
next day truly love me?"
Desira frowned at Harry. "But, Harry-"
Harry shook his head again and walked away. Desira stared at his back
forlornly, holding Cyrus who had creeped out of Harry's shirt unknowingly. Both
the girl and the snake watched with sad eyes as Harry walked back towards the
palace, cursing Lord Malfoy under his breath.
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