Hermione felt drawn to him and she wasn’t sure why, he had been absolutely awful to her throughout school, but now they were both adults, and everywhere she went, she looked for him in the crowd. She would search and search for his pale hair, or his grey eyes, but she was never able to find him.
Never in the daylight, at least.
She could sense him when she walked past Knockturn Alley one night, supposed to be meeting Harry and Ginny at the Leaky, but she felt there was elsewhere she needed to be. She wandered up and down the alleyway until she knew what she was there for. A whispered, disembodied voice came from the dark.
“You shouldn’t be here, Granger.”
Hermione scoffed. “Like I’d listen to you, disembodied voice. You can’t tell me where I can and can’t be.”
A hand reached out and grabbed the lapels of her coat, pulling her down a small side street. Hermione couldn’t see a thing, but she could smell, and gods, it was the most beautiful smell she’d ever smelt. Gone were the times she was attracted to freshly mown grass, new parchment and spearmint toothpaste, no. Hermione has grown up, and she was now attracted to the scent of cedar wood, tobacco, mint, and iron. She relished in it. “Shouldn’t be pulling young women into alleyways, Malfoy.”
“You can’t be here.”
“What if I want to be?”
She heard Draco take a sharp intake of breath, his cold hands finding the warm pulse on her neck, his fingers dancing above it, lightly. She felt his lips ghost against the point of her jaw, snaking their way to her ears. “I mean it, Granger, stop following me.”
She cackled and then he was gone in a cloud of smoke, leaving her alone in the gloominess, feeling more alone than she felt when she wasn’t next to him. She shuddered as she left the side street, emerging back into the dimly lit street as she walked back up Knockturn to Diagon, where Ginny was waiting outside of the Leaky Cauldron for her. She looked back, expecting Draco to be there, watching her, studying her, but all she saw was a glimmer. Shaking her head, she tried to school herself before sitting down with her two friends, but he was still occupying the back of her mind.
Hermione had been distracted for days, she felt like she was losing her sense of self, she wasn’t sure what was going on. All she thought about was Draco and what he was doing at that moment in time. She hoped he was getting enough rest, eating enough, drinking enough - he was intoxicating and all she wanted to do was ingest him, feed off of him, she wanted to thrive because of him. She saw him at the Ministry some days, but she would never dare talk to him, not with so many people she knew around them.
She decided to start sending him owls with messages.
“I’m thinking about you.” She would send.
“Stop thinking about me.” He would reply.
“You’re intoxicating.” She confessed.
“You’re abysmal.” He rejected.
It went on like that, owls flying in and out of her office on the daily, letters with only one sentence, her ink black, his ink a scarlet red.
Hermione was determined, determined to break down Draco’s cold walls, she would know him, and he would know her - except, Draco just didn’t seem interested. He avoided her as much as possible, if they walked down the same corridor, he would turn on his heel and walk the opposite way. He always looked like he was in pain when he was in the same vicinity as her, and she just didn’t understand why, but she was persistent. She would make sure to sit directly opposite him during meetings, staring at him as often as she could, smirking when he would look away. She timed her breaks the exact same time as his, so that she would always walk a few people behind him, but he knew she was there. He knew her presence, and she knew it set him off kilter. She knew she could make him tick, and it made her feel alive.
Draco felt sick. Draco had felt sick ever since that night in the alley, when he had gotten too close, too, too close. He wanted her, Merlin he had wanted her for years before this moment, but now he could hear her heartbeat. He could feel the thrum of magic coursing through her veins, and he wanted to taste her. He wanted to taste her so badly, but he couldn’t. Not yet, he told himself, steering away from her every time she rounded the same corner as him, and he knew she was doing it on purpose, he knew she wanted him too, but not like that. She doesn’t know who he is, what he is, or what he could do to her. She was small, fragile, delicate, and he could break her with a click of his fingers. Salazar knows he wanted to, everything told him to, but instinctively, he knew not.
Hermione grinned like a cat when she made her way into Knockturn Alley again that week, looking to seek him out, only to have her heart pounding when she found a hand around her neck, being thrown and lifted against a wall. The grip wasn’t so tight that she couldn’t breathe, but her feet were at least an inch from the floor. She panicked, as she knew this wasn’t Malfoy.
The person holding her moved closer to her neck, breathing in deeply. “You smell.. untouched,” the voice laughed, making Hermione feel uneasy. “Clean blood, silky skin, merlin, I bet you taste outstanding.”
She saw a flash of teeth, and held her breath, before she was suddenly dropped to the floor. “Not her, Lucas, how many times do I have to tell you? Not. Fucking. Her.”
Hermione knew that voice, that voice could only belong to one person. “Draco,” she whispered, a smile tearing into her face.
Draco was furious. She felt the heat as he rushed down against her, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Granger, what the fuck have I told you about being down here?”
“I had to see you.”
“No, no you didn’t have to see me.”
“But I did,” she nodded, earnestly. “I need to talk to you. Take me to your place.”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, before gripping her arm and apparating them back to his flat. They landed with a thunk, and Hermione grinned. She looked around at the attire of his home. “Nice place.”
“Out with it, Granger.” He seethed, and she felt heat pool in her stomach.
“I know what you are,” she cooed, and Draco stiffened.
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
She smirked, taking out the cold knife she had stashed in her pocket, opening her palm and making a superficial cut on it. “You like blood, right?”
Draco swallowed.
“You’ve thought mine was dirty for years, but now? Merlin, just the smell of it drives you insane, doesn’t it? Gods, I can see it. You’re fighting with yourself.” A drop of deep red fell from her hand, landing on the white plush rug she was stood on. Draco’s eyes followed it the entire way.
“Looks like I made a mess, might want to uh, clean it up, Malfoy.”
Malfoy’s eyes darkened, and he rushed forward and took hold of her hand, shaking slightly as he brought it to his face, breathing in deeply, before poking out his tongue and tasting the metallic liquid on her palm, he groaned and she moaned.
Hermione’s free hand slid up around his neck, entangling itself in the hair at the base of his scalp, and Malfoy moaned, licking her palm with a flat tongue, a quick swipe up the cut, and then he froze, pushing her away from him. “What, the fuck, was that, Granger?” He yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and fisting his palms.
“Clearly it was just the start of something you can’t handle.”
He moved towards her again, gripping her throat, tilting her head up to look at him, exposing her pulse point. “I can handle it, the question is, can you?” He spoke against her neck, his teeth dragging across her vein, and she shuddered beneath him. He kissed her neck, nipping at her every so often before she yelped and pulled back, finding that he’d drawn blood.
He grinned, his teeth red, and heat radiated through her body. She lunged herself forward, jumping on him as he staggered back, his hands gripping her backside. “I can’t hurt you, Granger,” he panted as Hermione ground down against him.
“What if I ask you to?”
Draco’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and she pushed her hips forward, her lips latching onto the side of his neck, and she bit him back, causing his eyes to snap open, and flip her over. He looked down at her, her chest heaving and he ripped her shirt open, exposing her, and she grinned, making Draco groan into her.
“Aren’t you scared, Granger?” He whispered into her ear, causing her to whimper involuntarily. He chuckled darkly, kissing down the front of her neck onto her chest, nipping at her skin. “This,” his teeth tugged at the cup of her bra, “has got to go.” He vanished it with a quick movement of his hand, so quick that Hermione almost missed it. The cold air brushed against her nipples, causing them to peak, and Draco closed his eyes in pleasure as he ran his hands over them. Hermione bit her lip to stifle a moan, and Draco grinned.
“Wouldn’t peg you as one for nipple piercings, Granger,” he nipped at the buds on her chest, relishing in the way she writhed beneath him. Hermione smirked up at him, bucking her hips to gain some friction where she needed it the most, and he laughed, pulling away from her. He scooped her up, carrying her bridal style to the bed, and she took the opportunity to nip at his neck, causing him to smirk. “Are you trying to.. copy me, Granger? That’s cute.”
He threw her down before crawling on top of her, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her, passionately. The way his lips moved against hers sent her stomach somersaulting, and he went to pull down the leggings she was wearing, and hissed at the sight. “Not wearing underwear, Granger?”
“Surely you could smell my arousal from the moment I stepped into the alley, Malfoy.”
He pulled her leggings off of her feet, exposing her centre and her soft, creamy legs. He ran his hands up and down them, feeling how smooth they were, before his head ducked in between her thighs and he tasted her. “Fuck,” he seethed, going back to drink in more of her as she writhed underneath the hold he had on her hips. “You taste like liquid gold, Granger.” He inserted one finger and she squirmed, making him aware that she could take another.
“Malfoy,” she panted, looking at him, “please,” she begged.
He smirked, flicking her clit one last time with his tongue before he leaned above her again. “You, Granger,” he kissed her passionately, “taste like heaven.”
His hands went to her breasts, tweaking her nipples as he swirled his tongue around the other, grinning when she squirmed. “Watching you writhe underneath me, is the most arousing thing in the world, pretty girl.” He bit the underside of her breast, causing her to moan in pain, and he almost drew back until her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in.
“Malfoy, I need you.”
Draco bared his teeth against her skin and she could feel his fangs that had descended, and she pulled him closer to her core, feeling his length press against her. “You’re so desperate,” he cooed, flicking her nipple absentmindedly. He trailed one hand down her body, stopping it just above where she needed him to touch, making her whine in frustration. “I almost want to reward you, but yet..” he removed his hand, seeing how her body shook in a huff. “I touch you on my terms, okay, Granger?”
“Malfoy, please,” she begged, almost sobbing with want, needing him.
“I know, Golden Girl, I know,” he dragged his teeth across her chest, leaving teasing love bites. He slid down her torso again, licking a trail and leaving behind a path of small bite marks as she moaned, her body twisting to get more of him. She tried to touch him, but he charmed her hands to stick to the headboard behind her. “Tonight is all about you, Granger,” he said, his lips grazing her clit. “So fucking sweet,” he hummed to himself as he tasted all of her, licking in long stripes across her centre.
“Malfoy, please,” she begged one last time and he laughed.
“Since you said please,” he pulled off his belt, allowing his trousers to fall, exposing his tented boxers. If she could move, she would’ve taken him in her mouth immediately, but she couldn’t, and Draco grinned harder, pumping himself with one free hand as he still thrust fingers inside of her. “Are you ready, golden girl?”
“Please,” she all but shrieked, her eyes fluttering closed as he pressed himself into her.
“You feel amazing, Granger, so tight, so warm.” Draco grunted, starting to move in a rhythm in time with her hips.
His hands moved down to circle her clit, sending her to the edge, bringing her so close and then stopping, so that he could bring her at the same time as him, finding the perfect moment to bite down on the pulse point on her neck.
They were both close, both scrambling to reach the edge and he bent down, baring his fangs against her skin, licking a stripe up her neck before he pounced, piercing her jugular, hearing her euphoric moan as he drank a small portion of her blood, injecting her with his poison.
She wanted so badly to have him, and he wanted so badly to have her, and now he did.
He pulled back, liquid dripping down his chin.
Red.