Chapter 8
One of the good things about my condition is the enhanced abilities, things like hearing and sight and smell, even taste sometimes. They come in handy when I track someone, or when I’m choosing a new coffee brand or more often when I want information I shouldn't have. I just wish they came with a fucking off switch, especially since I haven't fed in 24 fucking hours and I can hear my houseguests heartbeat.
I wake slowly, to the sound of sock clad feet pattering up the hall, the lub dub sounds of a heart beating at roughly 64 beats per minute. Malfoy. The steps are sure and confident with wide strides, every so often they stop but the beating heart never subsides. He must be exploring, I don't blame him I would too. I have just not nearly as much as I should, but it's almost too tempting to not, to not open long scarred over wounds by poking around in an ancient magic house.
From what I understand when I gained the house, or rather was told I now had several wizarding properties in my name thanks to inheriting them was that they responded to me. Not in a weird they talk way but more if I want something, and it's within the magics capability, and the bond between myself and the house is strong enough the house would provide. If I wanted a pool in the basement the house would create it, if I desired a room made of entirely purple pillows a door would appear to lead me to it. Almost like the room of requirement back at Hogwarts, the magic is similar but not the same. I simply had to nourish the bond between me and the house, which sounds hard and confusing since it isn't sentient like the elves. However it turned out that it wasn't that hard in the end, I signed my name on the house deed with a blood quill. I added to the wards, I fed the house essentially with my magic and now all I have to do is keep it clean, or lived in, or preferably both. I update the house, add more things to it, things like electricity and technology and trinkets. Things that it's been sorely missing for years and I can feel it buzzing with magic, with life almost.
I should have done more with it, I should have renovated it properly but spending so much time here… well it hurts.
I kept a lot of the things the same, the colouring of the rooms, the way the kitchen is set out, the library on the 3rd floor. Well that I added a few spells too, anything that is published whether magical or muggle will be added. I did it for Hermione, but I did it for me too, so that there might always be something new in there, something I haven't read. But I kept the paintings along the stairs the same, I moved the magical portraits of potters to the library.
It felt wrong to get rid of things actually, sometimes when I'm feeling brave ill ask to see someone's room, exactly how they left it and the house will provide. It reminds me that they did exist, that they lived and loved, that I did have a family once upon a time.
The heartbeat is moving again now, back down towards my room. I have to tense all my muscles and will myself to stay where I am. The beast is clawing at its cage, knowing that there's fresh blood just lazily pumping around Malfoys arteries, I have to remind it that I cannot kill house guests. Because I would, I haven't had a drop of blood in 48 hours, and the longer I go, the more likely I am to kill whomever I drink from.
The pattering became softer, he must have moved to the other floors. I breathe out slowly, willing the bars of the cage into iron and obsidian, willing it to keep the beast locked away.
Only once I'm positive I wont chase Malfoy through the library like some idiotic horror movie do I relax my muscles. Slowly I move from my bed to the bathroom, showering and washing my hair. I really should cut it, but it reminds me so much of Sirius, pitch black curls falling to the nape of my neck. Whenever I look in a mirror I'm reminded that my family existed, which is again sort of sad but it gives me comfort sometimes.
I dress slowly, joggers and nothing else it's not like i feel the cold anyway since technically I’m dead. I don't bother with shoes as I pad out of my room. Coffee, god I need coffee. I moved slowly, sluggish almost compared to normal, which I’m definitely blaming on not enough blood being consumed vs being old. Thinking about it, will I ever be classed as old? Being a vampire means essentially I’ll always look the same, always be the same, forever trapped in my own worst nightmare of outliving everyone I love. Well unless I decide to self delete which at the present moment isn’t really an option… Maybe in a hundred years?
I slowly move down towards the staircase, deliberately moving slowly as if to brace myself for the scent of Malfoy, for the heat of him, the sound of his heartbeat. I found him standing in the entryway, a puzzled expression on his face. He turned as he heard me move downwards, towards him, and I got to watch the change of expression as it happened. A blush crept up his throat towards his face, his eyes widened, mouth slightly parted as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. I knew without asking exactly what he was thinking, exactly the thoughts racing through his head, I could have acknowledged it, could have coughed or something. I let him look his fill instead before I spoke
“Are you lost Malfoy?” My voice was gruff from underuse and sleep, his eyes snapped back to my face.
“I…” Awh look at him lost for words a voice in the back of my head muttered, I ignored it.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, finally dragging my gaze to meet his and I could have sworn something within me snapped tight enough to snap and became looser than an unwound ball of string in the same moment. Something changed fundamentally, I just had no idea what changed other than something did. The beast raged at that moment, it took a lot more strength than I thought I had to wrangle it back into the cage, to remember to breathe slowly and shallow through my nose since opening my mouth wasn't an option right now.
Malfoy stared at me, mouth remaining slightly open as I descended the stairs, walking slowly, sluggish as I came to stand beside him.
“If you don’t tell me what you’re looking for I can’t help you find it” I shrug
“Kitchen” He whispers.
“Ahh, follow me Malfoy” I moved with purpose, he must be hungry, oh how I would long to be hungry again like a normal person instead of filled with the intense thirst, and the need to rip into his throat a constant burden in my mind.
I walked through the set of doors on the left, down the hall and pushed open the barn doors that lead to the kitchen. Effie Potter apparently loved to cook, at least that’s what her husband Fleamont said when I spoke with his portrait. She'd had the two huge barn doors installed, more so that her son - my dad - could stick his nose in the kitchen without getting in her way.
“Behold, the kitchen” I joked, turning back around to look at Malfoy. He was staring at me again.
“Have I got something on my face Malfoy?” I poked, figuring if I could get him out of his head he'd stop staring at me with a certain look on his face.
“Malfoy?” I turned fully and looked at him, reaching out against my better judgement and tilting his chin up with my forefinger. Hie eyes snapped to mine at last
“What?”
“I asked if there was something on my face. Are you hungry?”
“Yes”
“Yes to which Malfoy? Something on my face or you’re hungry?”
“Hungry”
I shrugged and walked forward. He followed behind.
“Well sit down, I hope you like eggs cause we need to go grocery shopping today”
I heard the stool pull out from the island, and I set out making eggs and coffee. I flicked my wand at the cupboard with the stuff for coffee and sent it flying to the machine, then set about getting a pan, placing it on the stove and cracking some eggs into it. Despite popular belief I am capable of cooking, it simply happens that I despise it a lot of the time thanks to my aunt and uncle. Malfoy was silent while I cooked, and well that’s unacceptable, I flicked my wand at the T.V. I had mounted, on the wall facing the island. Looked like some random show but the background noise was enough to calm me down. I didn’t chance another glance at Malfoy until the eggs were finished and the coffee was brewed. I slid the plate in front of him with a knife and fork and swigged from my coffee.
“Did you want tea?” I asked, looking at him. Malfoy was staring at the TV, completely transfixed on it, eyes wide and mouth parted with an expression of awe. I watched him.
He watched the show, but I was watching him, watching the way his hair fell over his face in perfect small blonde waves. His hair shone in the sun, glinting between silver and gold depending on the ray hitting them. His face had always been sharp and pointed but in his adulthood it was more angular, aristocratic; high cheekbones, sharp jawline and straight pearly teeth. His nose was pointed upwards and his brows so fair I was surprised to see them. He was pale too, he’d always been pale but after spending so much time in Azkaban he was almost translucent, dark circles under his eyes which seemed less prominent today maybe that was wishful thinking.
The bruises that marred his otherwise perfect skin were fading, but he was thin, too thin, the kind of thin that I remember well. Thin enough that his hips were sharp and if he was half as clumsy as me he’d always have bruises on them, pink rosy lips somehow pulled all his other features into something beautiful. He’d always been a pretty boy, but now he was gorgeous as an adult male. I swallowed and set to making tea.
It took less than five minutes to make the earl grey he liked so much. I spent five more trying to calm my racing thoughts and the monster pacing in my chest before pushing the cup in front of him. I watched, against my better judgement I saw the second he smelled the tea and watched his gaze flit down to the eggs he’d been idly eating. I sipped my coffee.
“Potter?” His voice was low
“Yes Malfoy?”
“Why are there tiny people in the box performing plays?”
I laughed so hard I snorted coffee out my nose. Malfoy laughed at me, not a fake laugh or one of those polite ones he sometimes does but a full bellied chortle. I watched his cheeks go red. Utterly transfixed as the coffee dripped down my face and out my nose. He didn’t stop laughing. If I could bottle sound, store it for when in a thousand years when I can't remember the tenor of happiness his laugh would be it.
“It’s called a television Malfoy. It’s a muggle thing. The people aren’t trapped in there, they’re recorded with muggle technology and then it's put on the TV for others to watch and enjoy.” I explained after grabbing some kitchen roll and mopping up the mess both on the kitchen island and on my face.
“But muggles don’t have magic?”
“No Malfoy they don’t, they’re crazy smart though” I sigh pouring another cup of coffee
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Malfoy asks. Bollocks I was so hoping he wouldn’t notice I hadn’t eaten… Oh maybe I can use his inability to look away from the TV to my advantage, he was so focussed on it that he wouldn’t have noticed if I did eat anything…
“I ate while you were watching the show Malfoy” I flashed a winning smile at him and shook my head. Praying he bought the blatant lie. He scrutinised my face
“If you say so” he shrugged, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“We really do need to go grocery shopping today though Malfoy. Fancy a little trip down to the market? It’s not too far”
“Won’t they recognise us?”
“No Malfoy, we’d be going to a muggle market, and you’ll just look like a foreigner” I shrug
“Oh? So you’re telling me that I can leave the house?”
“I told you before, You aren’t a prisoner. I don’t recommend going anywhere without me, unless your Spanish skills are any good since no-one speaks English here… But you are free to do whatever you would like, If you want to go back to London then I won’t stop you but I really don’t think that’s a good idea, I imagine the pink toad is searching for us”
“I thought you meant that I wouldn’t be trapped in my room, sort of not a prisoner, not allowed to leave the house sort of prisoner…” Malfoy looked embarrassed
I turned to face the blonde man fully.
“You are free. I will not be a prison warden, I will not force you to stay here should you wish to leave. I will not demand that you remain inside this house, I will not make you a prison out of this house”
I saw the gulp of air he took, I saw those grey eyes well up with tears, and then those tears spill over and run salty tracks down his face. I caught a tear on my thumb, swiped it from the left side of that angled jaw.
“Sorry.” Malfoy muttered, his voice was thick
“You thought you’d traded the ministry for another prison?” I asked softly
He nodded “I’ve never been free.”
My chest Burned at his admission.
“Come on, let's get dressed properly and go to the market” I hadn’t realised my hand was wrapped around Malfoys until I gave it a little jerk in the direction of the stairs. It took less than fifteen minutes before I was dressed in jeans and a hoodie and black converse, Prada sunglasses on my face. Malfoy stood at the bottom of the stairs fiddling with his clothing, or rather he was wearing a magically altered pair of my jeans and a t-shirt and a random pair of sunglasses he’d swiped from the side. I think they’re the Dior ones.
“Ready?” I asked
“I don’t speak Spanish Potter” His voice was meek
“I do. It’ll be fine. Come on, let's get out of this house.”
The sun was still on the lower side, so the heat wasn’t that bad, but it would be far too unlike Malfoy if he didn’t complain about it every ten seconds without fail. To the point actually where I had to cast a cooling charm over him to make him quiet about the damn weather.
The walk wasn’t that far, Potter Manor sat on several acres of land, land that the house elves took care of for me. It was towards the top of a hill and sort of out of the way for anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The wards on the building made it vanish as soon as me and Malfoy passed the boundary line of the property, but we continued down towards the town. Malfoy walked close to me, his hand brushing the back of mine a few times on the way down, I tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the nervous energy coming off him in waves.
Finally the town, I breathed in and out slowly through my mouth willing myself to remain in control after 48 hours without feeding. Maybe I’d be able to get Malfoy to sit still in a cafe while I found someone willing to let me pierce a vein and satiate this damned thirst that was burning in the back of my throat. A small inferno just for me, to let me know that I needed blood and soon lest the beast take over.