Chapter 1
This was Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and so all of these traditions felt old and tired by now. He could hardly imagine how Dumbledore felt doing this for 30 years straight.
There were familiar voices bickering behind him and he began to smile and turn around to see his two best friends.
“No Ron, it’s ‘party rock is in the house tonight.’ Not ‘party rockers in the house tonight.’” Hermione said in her patronizing manner that she reserved for Ron only. Ron looked just about done with the discussion (because he knew he couldn’t win) before catching Harry’s eye.
Ron beamed. “Harry! Settle this, will you? Is it ‘Party rock is in the house tonight’ or ‘Party rockers in the house’.”
Harry blinked in confusion. “...I believe it’s party rock is?”
Unbeknownst to him, Ron looked utterly betrayed. “You couldn’t have just been on my side once!” He said in mock disappointment.
Hermione joined Harry on the bench while Ron sat on Harry’s other side. “It’s because Harry wants to be on the winning side.” She quipped. “Ay! I was joking, but if you’re gonna be a twit about it-”
As Harry tuned the bickering out as usual, his eyes returned to the entrance as he watched the rest of the seventh years join the feast after the Sorting, when he caught sight of a familiar swoop of blonde hair. His unbothered expression quickly curled up into a look of disgust.
Malfoy had gotten a lot taller over the summer, Harry noticed. Malfoy was now even lankier and paler than before (was that even possible?). As his eyes followed the Slytherin to his table, he didn’t notice Ron saying his name until he jabbed him in the side.
Harry jumped, rubbing his side. “What was that for?” Ron sighed in exasperation. “Dumbledore is about to do one of his speeches. He’s looking over notes with Mcgonagal.” Harry stared at Ron, looking quite dumbfounded at his words. Notes? Dumbledore didn’t even take graduation seriously, what could he possibly have to say that needed notes?
“I would like your attention, please,” Dumbledore announced after casting a Sonorus charm to his throat to amplify his voice. The buzzing room of anxious first-years and at-ease upperclassmen quieted down at the sound of Dumbledore’s rumbling voice.
There was a brief pause as Dumbledore took in the silence. He always was one for dramatics. “It’s been brought to my attention that there is a startling amount of hostility between houses. Specifically in the seventh years…”
The students listened with baited breath, hanging on his words. “My solution to the problem will be…roommates.” Before Dumbledore could explain, the children began buzzing with concern and intrigue once again.
“Now before we all flip our lids, only a select few are going to get roommates. If you are a part of the solution you do not have to worry. I’d like to go over the rules for the handful of people who are getting roommates, though.”
While the rest of the school visibly relaxed, Harry tensed. He was most definitely a part of the hostility Dumbledore was talking about, and there was no doubt he’d be one of the unlucky few stuck with a roommate.
“Only boys will be paired with boys and girls paired with girls so that there is no funny business.” Dumbledore’s hawk-like eyes scanned the room carefully. “In addition, if you harm your roommate in any way, you will automatically be kicked out of Hogwarts. This is your one and only warning.”
Kicked out? Just like that? Harry’s brow furrowed in worry. If Dumbledore was really going to pair him with his worst enemy…
Harry paled.
Dumbledore stepped away and allowed Professor McGonagall to read from the list. As she read out names, Harry felt his stomach twisting in discomfort and his heart jumping. “Harry Potter and…Draco Malfoy.” Mcgonagal’s face paled to the same color as Harry’s after reading the names.
Hermione and Ron turned to look at Harry with wide eyes. Harry, who’d been expecting it, only grumbled and put his head in his hands. After Mcgonagals face returned to its normal color she leaned over to Dumbledore and began to quietly hiss accusatory questions.
Rather than simply answering Mcgonagal to her face, he stood up and cleared his throat to address everyone. “The reason for this new guideline still stands. More often than not, closeness resolves even the deepest hatred.” Dumbledore said before sitting back down, motioning for Mcgonagal to continue.
She continued but did so sourly. Harry was overcome with despair as he thought about how Malfoy would manage to ruin his last year at Hogwarts. He wasn’t the least bit consoled by the rule Dumbledore had implanted about harming the other roommate, because knowing Malfoy, he’d find a way to slither out getting in trouble.
The feast went by way too fast for Harry’s liking. In his mind, if he could manage to spend as little time in the room stuck with Malfoy as possible then he’d consider this year a success. He found himself eating in slow motion.
“Are you gonna eat that?” Ron asked through a mouthful of turkey, pointing towards Harry’s roll. Harry nodded, “Eventually.”
Ron frowned in disappointment before quickly moving on to the next person to mooch off for food. Hermione was a little more observant of Harry’s foul mood.
“Are you worrying about Malfoy?” Hermione didn’t wait for Harry to answer, “because he’d be a fool to try anything. Knowing Dumbledore he probably spelled the room with Anathema.”
Hermione’s fact-spouting about magic usually had Harry nodding off, but this spell could be the only thing keeping Malfoy off his back. “Tell me more about that.”
She looked pleased to be able to ramble about the spell. “Anathema is cast on a room to prevent physical damage and it can also sense negative intentions. Malfoy won’t be able to touch you.” Hermione consoled.
This made Harry feel a little better. He ate faster, suddenly extremely hungry after all that slow-motion eating.
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Draco is splayed across the bed he claimed in his new dorm, his girlfriend Pansy cuddled up to his side. He sighs internally as she grumbles on and on about some prefect in the Slytherin house telling her off for making a love potion. Draco grunts, mildly interested at what she would need a love potion for, but still annoyed with her yapping nonetheless. He lets his mind wander to his new roommate.
Harry fucking Potter, of all people. That old hag of a headmaster put them together just to spite him most definitely. The fact that he was a vampire complicated things. Harry's scent complicated things even further. The thing about Vampires is for each vampire, there’s one human that smells insanely enticing.
The first time that Draco realized his hunger for Harry’s blood was when they were around 15 years old. This is also around the time that vampires go through puberty. In ‘vampire puberty’ they develop a thing called Blood Lust. All vampires experience Blood Lust at one time or another, but Draco had only had it happen with Harry and Harry alone. He wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about that.
He would deny it to his grave that the reason for his Blood Lust was genuine desire, preferring to believe the cause to be hatred. All of that considered, Draco made sure to only allow himself to be around Harry when he wasn’t hungry. He would be sure to feed before potions and then it wouldn’t be as bad, but for him to control himself around Harry now, he’d have to feed every night and every morning.
Feeding was exhausting. Being around Harry was exhausting. Being a vampire was exhausting.
His self-loathing was interrupted by a solid knock at the door. He swallowed hard, knowing his craving was just behind that door. “Is that Potter?” Pansy asked. “Who else would it be?” Draco hissed, getting to his feet to open the door.
He swung the door open and nearly hit Harry in the face with it. Draco bit back an amused smile. “Where is your key? Couldn’t find your way through the castle which you’ve lived in for 7 years, huh?”
As usual, Harry took the bait and quipped back as he stormed past Draco.
“I could have found it just fine if someone didn’t take both of our keys and hide one-.” Harry began to raise his voice before he paused and fully took in Pansy’s presence. He took a deep breath and turned to Draco. “Why is she here?”
“She’s my girlfriend,” Draco answered with a shrug. The sentence never sounded right in his mouth, but Potter always seemed to believe it. “I know she’s your girlfriend. What I don’t know is why she’s in my room.” Harry lowered his voice to a low huff. Draco felt his fangs twitch before quickly retracting them back into his gums. “It’s my room, too.” He answered.
“Like I give a shit,” Harry states bluntly, “Now get her out, I’m fucking tired”, Harry walks over to the unclaimed bed, shrugging off his robe and laying it over the bed casually. Draco stays stunned, Harry's scent having washed over him as he walks by.
Pansy stares at Draco, expecting him to have some sort of remark, at least something other than standing there. She scoffs, “Draco-” She jabs him in the side, breaking him out of his trance-like state. “Wha-” he sputtered.
Harry looks up at them, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “Earth to Malfoy!” Harry pipes in playfully, grinning before turning to take off his tie. Draco blushes, his eyes widening.
“Go back to your dorm Pansy,” Draco says, an edge to his words, leaving Pansy bewildered as she's practically pushed out of the dorm. Draco says a hasty goodbye and slams the door. He turns back around to see Harry unbuttoning his shirt.
Draco swallows heavily, walking stiffly over to his dresser and pulling out sweatpants and a tank top. Draco attempted to change quickly but somehow managed to fumble on every button. “Need some help?” Harry says, only a bit of humor lacing his voice.
Draco flinches, whipping around with his shirt barely half unbuttoned. His face flushes a deep pink. “Shut up Potter.” he snaps, turning back around and finally fully unbuttoning his shirt and changing into his pajamas.
Once he's finished, Harry is already in bed, lying on top of the covers, still staring at Draco. “What-” Draco says, glaring as he sits on his bed. Harry grins, “Nothin” Draco curls his lip at him before turning around, getting under a blanket, and flipping off his lamp.
He tries to tune out Harry's small laugh to no avail. Draco buries his face into the pillow, attempting to block out some of the burnt cedar scent he was so drawn to.
He still had his face buried in his pillow, not to block out the scent, since that became hopeless a while ago, but instead to have something else to bite. He had sunk his fangs into his pillow a bit ago, unable to keep his fangs in for long after Harry's scent had enhanced.
Thankfully Harry was a heavy sleeper, or else he would have been able to clearly hear Draco’s whimpering. He turned to the side to face the wall and fight his urges. He didn’t feel like going out and hunting this late at night and he’d never been put in a situation like this…being stuck inside a room with his biggest craving with no means of escape.
To his dismay, his cock began to fill with warmth as the scent grew stronger. Draco was beginning to panic before pausing. Being hard kind of took the edge off of the bloodlust. After a quick glance to where Harry sat, his cock hardened further as he took in his sleeping frame. The way his body curved and fit perfectly around the blanket was engraved in his mind.
After he’d finally filled his mind with the sleeping brunette he turned away to look up at the ceiling.
.
Why the hell did Harry have to be this tempting, Draco thought with frustration, using all of his willpower to not get up and kiss him now. While that was happening in one part of his brain, the other was screaming at him to feed. He groaned in frustration and glanced at Harry once again, to focus more on his arousal.
With bated breath, he slipped his hand past his loose waistband and gripped his sturdy cock. Harry turned over in his sleep, now facing the wall and Draco jumped before pulling the blanket tighter around his growing erection.
God, he should really be more careful, but he just wasn’t thinking when it came to Harry. This time he kept his eyes directly on Harry and not the ceiling, just in case he moved again. As he began to tease his throbbing cock and barely touching himself and yet still shaking with pleasure at every small stroke. His breathing quickened as the heightened sensation overwhelmed him.
After just a few strokes, his stomach twisted into a knot as he whimpered quietly into his pillow and felt the warmth leave his tip. He lay there still shaking, his fingers clammy with both sweat and cum. Usually it took him a very long time to finally come, he very rarely even got hard. And when it did happen he always felt somewhat of a release.
But instead of feeling like he’d broken free of desire and temptation, he felt more trapped than ever.