Chapter Text
It all happened so fast.
And now Draco watched as his father sobbed and held the lifeless body of the Malfoy matriarch, surrounded by several witches and wizards in different states of emotion. Draco was trembling, his sorrow was there but it was overwhelmed by an incredible feeling of hunger. His vision was vivid, even in darkness, colors were bolder and more enhanced. His mother's skin, pale and grey, glowing in the moonlight, her dark red lipstick contrasting with her fair skin, matching the lines of blood trickling down her neck. His father, cradling his wife and whispering shaking promises into her ear.
Madness. It was all madness.
And for what?
Absolute power? Control? To abolish all half-bloods and muggleborns? It seemed so foolish now.
A shriek followed by a thump disrupted Draco's thoughts as a petite blonde woman was thrown before him. Her blue eyes locked on him, full of fear, and she scrambled backwards on her bottom. He knew her. He went to Hogwarts with her but never really paid any attention to the witch. He remembered she was a Hufflepuff. Draco believed her name was Hannah Abbott.... He noticed the diamond ring on her left hand, the same hand that was currently clawing into the dirt as she continued to back away. He vaguely remembered her wedding announcement in the Daily Prophet.
That's right, she was Hannah Longbottom now. Why was she here?
"Eat Draco." came the commanding voice of Lorena, his maker.
Draco looked up at the ancient enchantress, her flowing raven hair blowing softly in the breeze and her violet eyes glowing in the darkness. His father's sobs seemed distant now as he stared at this ethereal woman. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he and his father arranged this meeting with her.
Power. They did this for power. Entirely unaware that it would cost them the life of Narcissa Malfoy to gain. Lucius would have never agreed if he had known.
Draco turned his gaze back to Hannah, she was crying now. He could smell her fear and hear her heart racing. His senses had never been so strong before. Her fear smelt enticing. He licked his lips as his eyes locked onto her neck, he could practically see the blood flowing through her veins, luring him to her.
"Draco please!" Hannah shouted. Draco was on her an instant, she shrieked as he pinned her down into the dirt. His fangs protruded on instinct, and he winced, feeling this for the first time. Hannah shut her eyes and turned her head away, a stupid mistake on her part. Draco's pupils dilated as he watched her pulse point, mesmerizing and inviting.
He leaned in, his teeth grazing along her neck and Hannah trembled uncontrollably. His body burned with desire, his cravings growing uncontrollable. Her skin tasted exquisite, and he could only imagine how much better she would taste once he sunk his teeth into her.
"Don't fight it Draco," came the low purr of his maker.
His eyes flashed and they narrowed, before he knew it, he was tearing into her skin. Hannah's shrill cries echoed throughout the forest as her blood filled his mouth, warm and thick and delectable. The first swallow was indescribable, he could feel it running down his throat and fueling his need for more. More. More.
He drank eagerly, growling and hardly feeling Hannah's nails digging into his arms, feebly attempting to pull him away. He sensed her body growing weaker, he saw the fire diminishing from her eyes. He could feel the power growing inside of him.
More. More.
"That's enough, Draco!" claws dug into his shirt and ripped him from his meal. Draco snarled as he was flung back by incredible strength, landing just a few feet from his father. He kept his eyes on Hannah, lying on the ground, blood dripping down her neck and barely breathing. She whimpered weakly.
"Lucius." Lorena hissed, turning to the elder Malfoy. He hardly looked up at her. Lorena smirked and gestured towards the crumpled Hufflepuff witch in the dirt, "Your turn."
Lucius sighed, looking back down at his wife and stroking her hair once more. He kissed her temple before gently lifting her up and carrying her to Draco. He laid her down in his son's arms and they both gave each other a nod. A small, silent communication that they were in this together and would see this through. Draco held his mother close as he watched his father approach Hannah and kneel next to her.
Hannah hardly made a noise as Lucius slid his arm under her shoulders and lifted her upright. Her head hung lazily to the side, too dazed and weak to cover her exposed neck. Lucius's fangs protruded, he took a deep breath before diving in and sinking his fangs into her. She didn't cry this time. She didn't fight back. She let out one last soft whimper and murmured, "Neville..." before her eyes closed.
Lucius could feel the life leaving her body. He gripped her tighter against him to keep from trembling as he drained her to almost complete depletion. He stopped himself, but it was already too late. Lucius pulled his face from her neck and dropped her as if she were nothing but a useless item. He stood, wiping the blood from his lips and staring at the dead girl. He could sense Lorena approaching him, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning into his ear.
"Well done, Malfoy." she whispered, "Your journey begins tonight..."
He growled low in his throat, his hand instinctively sliding to his robes and gripping his wand. He felt vile with this creature touching him. This creature who just gifted him immense strength, immortality, and a life of darkness. This creature who just took away one of the only people who ever mattered to him. What good was eternal life if he didn't have his beloved to share it with?
Lorena pressed into his back, and he felt her breath fanning his neck. He fought back the urge to cringe.
"Do you feel that, Lucius?" she murmured, "Your aura is dripping with dark magic." She slid her hand between his arm and side and snaked her arm around his chest, pulling him even harder into her. He gripped his wand tighter.
She closed her eyes and inhaled, "It's time to celebrate, Lucius. I need you..."
Lucius took a deep breath, forcing himself not to look at his slain wife and focus on a way to get his son out of here. He had to play along. No matter how much it disgusted him, he had to do it. He placed his wandless hand over her hand that was still on his chest. He let out a low, seductive chuckle, “Do you?...”
Lorena gave a breathy sigh and ran her tongue along his neck, right over his Azkaban tattoo, her other hand trailed along his spine, “When I heard you were seeking allies to start a new war against Potter, I knew you’d come looking for me. I knew I had what you needed to win. And I knew you would give up anything to have it.”
Lucius’s eyes flashed with anger, and he bit back his response. He felt her hand grip the back of his shirt and untuck it from his waistband. Then her cold fingers were exploring his skin. His back muscles tensed on reflex at her uninvited touch.
“You weren’t angry enough, Lucius,” she went on, “I needed to unlock a rage that was buried deep inside of you, so you could win this war. Claim what is rightfully yours. Cleanse the world of filthy blood. But she was holding you back. She kept you soft.”
He remained silent. Her icy touch explored his lower back and along his waistband.
“Then when I saw you,” she gave a short, soft moan, “I knew I wanted to be your Dark Queen. I couldn’t have her stopping me. Stopping us.”
Her other hand moved from his chest and to his chin, she turned his face towards her and violet eyes met grey. She whispered, “So I killed her.”
Rage. Pure rage. It consumed him like a tidal wave. It suffocated his rational thought. His fingers twitched and what was left of his heart ached. This woman was touching him like she owned him.
Nobody owned Lucius Malfoy.
Everything happened in an instant. Lucius used his newfound strength and speed to his advantage, breaking Lorena from her hold and spinning towards her in a flash. His wand stabbed into her flesh, right into her heart. He didn't even realize the wood was strong enough for this, but it didn't even crack against the pressure.
Lorena’s eyes widened in horror; her mouth open in a silent scream. She let out a gargled breath, her entire body froze on impact. She stared at Lucius, and as her vision went dark the last thing she saw was angry grey eyes.
In one swift motion, he pulled his wand out of her, swinging his arm behind him as blood spattered across the trees, the grounds, and those nearby. Lorena’s body slumped to the ground, then began decaying in rapid motion. Draco watched on with stuttering breaths, but he felt no fear. He felt remorse for his mother all while being fascinated by his father.
Lucius’s wand tip glowed; he eyed the witches and wizards who circled him and his son. Magic crackled through his hand and around his wand, vastly outnumbered, but ready to fight those seeking revenge for their slain mistress.
The Malfoys had very few allies with them that night – Nott, Zabini, Dolohov, Yaxley and Macnair. The rest were members of Lorena’s coven, all vampires far older and stronger than Lucius. He knew his pull in the war was over, his only regret was that his son would go down with him. He looked to Draco, face stained with blood and still holding his fallen mother in his arms. Draco placed her down gently on the ground and stood up, drawing his own wand and standing at his father’s side.
Theodore and Blaise came next, both standing in front of the Malfoys ready to fight to the death. The other three former Death Eaters joined next, forming a perimeter around Lucius and Draco and aiming their wands at the vampires. There were at least twenty of them, but Lucius knew she had several more.
Tense silence. Heavy stares. Nobody moved for several minutes.
One vampire parted from the coven and approached the small army. His eyes were locked on Lucius, and they remained on Lucius as he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
Draco raised a brow and glanced at his father who cocked his head to the side as he continued to stare at the kneeling vampire. A second one joined the first, also dropping to one knee and bowing her head. Then another. Then another. After ten more vampires did this, Lucius slowly lowered his wand, and the others followed.
Within seconds, every single vampire bowed to their new leader.
*******
Three Years Later
Draco was awoken from his drunken slumber from the sound of a pop. He groaned and turned to his side, barely opening his eyes to peer at the trembling creature before him. He placed a lazy hand on the thigh of Daphne Greengrass and hoisted himself into a sitting position.
“What is it?” he asked with a scowl.
The frightened elf squeaked and hugged its arms to soothe itself, “M-Master Malfoy, your father is commanding your presence in the throne room.”
Draco rolled his eyes. The throne room. Really it was just the same room they had used years ago to torture the infamous Golden Trio. After the downfall of Lord Voldemort soon came the uprising of the Malfoys and Lucius, mad with anguish over the loss of his wife but also consumed with his newfound power and following, converted the drawing room into a throne room. Draco found it silly at first but soon found its appeal. He saw himself on that throne one day, surrounded by fearful followers and beautiful witches. Though with his and his father’s immortality, he had no idea when the day would come that he would sit on that throne.
“Tell him I’ll be there momentarily,” he said in a low tone. The elf nodded and vanished.
Draco sighed and glanced back at the two sisters in his bed. Daphne and Astoria were facing each other but separated by a large gap where he was just lying. He pushed Daphne’s blonde hair from her face, revealing the puncture wounds on her neck, the blood already clotted and dried on her pale skin. Draco traced a long finger over the bite and grinned.
He turned his attention to Astoria’s naked body, frail and tiny, she was curled into the fetal position. She wasn’t nearly as eager as her sister, but she was submissive, nonetheless. Draco rather enjoyed it when he found a pair to play with. The Greengrass sisters were always willing to please him in his Hogwarts days, but with his newfound glory, they seemed a bit hesitant. Daphne was a little more willing than her sister, entranced by his strength and stature, yet still frightened.
He found himself missing the Patil twins, one of his first prizes he claimed when he and his father proclaimed war against Potter and all blood traitors. They had found them in a safehouse outside of Berkshire, their Gryffindor and Ravenclaw spirit putting up a pretty good fight. Still, they were no chance against the Malfoys and their allies. He wanted Finnegan to watch while he played with his new toys, but bloody Nott got excited and accidentally killed the Irishman.
Draco couldn’t remember which one was the better cocksucker, he believed it was Parvati. He enjoyed fucking her mouth while feeding on Padma. Most of the time he would start on her neck until she was too weak, then he would place his face between her legs and bite her inner thigh, enjoying the smell of her cunt while he drained her. He lost the twins last summer when the blood-replenishing potions had gone sparse. Once they had found the necessary ingredients to restore their product, it was too late for the twins.
Draco shivered. He missed those intense orgasms. He tried the same thing with the Greengrass sisters, but they just weren’t scared enough, not forbidden enough.
He stopped wondering long ago exactly when it was he lost his conscience. The spoils of war were too plenty in the beginning, the feeling of power too intoxicating, the scream of a helpless woman was a drug he could not kick. No one thought him a coward anymore. He was feared. Feelings of pity were a sign of weakness, and Draco Malfoy did not consider himself weak.
No matter. His father awaited.
Draco threw a white button up over his exposed chest but didn’t bother closing it up. Dress code had become a bit lax lately. He walked through the dark halls of Malfoy Manor, the portraits, mostly empty now, made the manor more quiet, more eerie.
He entered the dark throne room, the only light emitting from the moon shining through the open curtains and the fire crackling in the fireplace. Several former Death Eaters and some new recruits lined up along the walls, awaiting commands. Lucius sat at the end of the room, on his throne, an elbow propped up on the arm of the chair and his face resting against his closed fist. Pansy Parkinson draped across his lap, looking half asleep in her sheer dress and two lines of blood running down her neck.
Draco was unbothered now over his father’s current distraction. Pansy always had a fascination with Lucius Malfoy and was a willing victim. Theodore Nott was there as well, sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the throne and looking dazed. He stared at a wall, unblinking. His neck also bore puncture wounds.
Draco rolled his neck casually until he felt it pop, “You summoned me father?” he asked in a low drawl.
“I did,” Lucius answered smoothly, a wicked grin spreading across his features, “I have a gift for you, my son.”
Draco quirked a brow, “Do you?”
Lucius nodded, straightening in his chair and adjusting the witch on his lap. Pansy gave a small sound at the disturbance but did nothing else. “I know how much you enjoy dirty things. I’ll never understand it, but I won’t keep you from your dark pleasures. Zabini is bringing her now.”
The double doors flew open, and Blaise stepped in, pulling on a chain. He met Draco’s eyes and flashed his new fangs, looking quite pleased with himself. Blaise had only recently been turned, a reward for capturing Arthur Weasley and his daughter, along with a few Ministry officials. He was also allowed to keep Ginny Weasley but wasn’t able to be alone with her until Lucius felt he could control his new urges enough to keep her alive.
Blaise yanked on the chain and Draco heard a yelp. He pulled hard enough for their new captive to fall to her knees. A wild tangle of hair covered her face, and her ripped jeans scraped against the cold stone floor.
Draco’s eyes widened as he took in the Golden Girl herself. She looked up and met his eyes with a glare. Her eyes, wild with fury, her lips pressed into a scowl. She still had quite a bit of fight left in her. Draco’s cock twitched and he fought the urge to elongate his fangs.
Lucius rolled his eyes, “She’s filthy, Draco.”
“We have a bathtub,” Draco answered, never taking his eyes off Hermione.
He heard his father laugh, “You will never be able to scrub away the filth that runs through her veins. Nothing tastes as sweet as the blood of a Pureblood witch. Do what you want with her but do not poison yourself with her blood.”
Draco finally turned to his father and smirked, “I’ve tasted many halfbloods and mudbloods and for the most part, they all taste the same. I am still alive and well, father. Do not deny me the honor of tasting Potter’s swotty witch.”
Lucius waved a hand dismissively, “Do what you must then. Just keep her away from me.”
Draco approached Blaise who handed him the chains, Draco accepted them with wicked glee. He yanked at the chains, causing Hermione to screech. “Stand up, mudblood!” He commanded.
Hermione stood on shaking legs, never breaking her glare from Draco. She kept her mouth shut tight as he yanked on the chain again and pulled her towards him, she fell against his chest and used her bound wrists to abruptly push herself away from him.
“Found her in the Forbidden Forest with her ginger boyfriend,” Blaise explained, “Gathering roots and flowers for their potion stores. There were others there, but they were dead before they saw us coming. The Weasel put up a gallant fight, protecting his beloved. He’s alive, but barely. I put him in the dungeons until you decide what to do with him. I made sure the boys didn’t rough her up too much, I knew you wanted her agile.”
Draco grinned and grabbed Hermione’s chin, forcing her face to his.
“Hello Granger,” he purred.
She spit in his face. There was a collective gasp from the surrounding followers. Even Theo took his drunken gaze off the wall, shocked by her bravery. Lucius didn’t do so much as flinch, watching his son with patient anticipation.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment and wiped the spit from his face. He smirked; his fangs protruded in a flash. Hermione gasped and took a fearful step back.
“Oh, I am going to have fun breaking you in, mudblood,” he finally said.
Hermione looked nervously around the room. Many of the surviving Death Eaters still wore the same robes as they did in the war, but the masks were gone. She had heard that Lucius did away with them, wanting his enemies to know exactly who was about to kill them. She recognized a few faces, such as Dolohov, Rowle and MacNair. She looked back at Draco, his piercing grey eyes staring at her with predatory intent.
She narrowed her eyes again, ignoring the alarm bells going off in her head. She knew Draco and his father had become vampires, and she spent several sleepless nights going over research on how to eliminate the blood-thirsty creatures. They were ever the stereotypical vampire she had seen portrayed in movies when she was younger; beautiful, alluring and dangerous.
Hermione broke her gaze from Draco and peered over his shoulder at Lucius, who was now stroking Pansy’s hair as she clung to his shoulders and nuzzled him like a desperate cat in heat. Hermione cringed.
“I see your father has moved on from the loss of his wife,” she said bitterly.
Draco tensed. Lucius immediately dropped his hand from Pansy and stood from his seat; Pansy fell on her bottom and screeched.
“That was a foolish thing to say, mudblood.” Draco said through gritted teeth.
She heard the dragon-hide boots clicking against the stone floor, the sound echoing throughout the room and making her heart race faster. Lucius shoved his son out of the way and approached Hermione dangerously. Hermione took several steps back until she hit a solid surface. Lucius slammed his palm against the wall, right by her face. Hermione winced and shut her eyes.
“Look at me,” Lucius said, venom in his tone. He refused to touch her.
Hermione forced her eyes open and looked up to meet his intense gaze. She glared at him defiantly, but she couldn’t stop trembling.
“Having you here as my son’s hostage is the only thing keeping you alive,” he said severely, “If you weren’t Potter’s precious mudblood, I would string you up and let my men have their way with you until you died from exhaustion. But seeing as I need you breathing, you will be spared. But if any mention of my late wife comes out of your filthy mouth again, I will cut your tongue out myself and owl it to Potter. Understood?”
Hermione’s chest heaved, knowing he meant every word, and she stared at the elder Malfoy with disdain. She nodded, albeit begrudgingly. Lucius sneered and pushed himself off the wall. He snapped his fingers and Pansy stood from her seated position on the floor. He pointed to a door on the side of the room and Pansy obediently followed his silent command and left.
He stopped by Draco before he departed, “Get your dog in line or I will.”
Draco gave his father a sharp nod. Lucius threw one last disgusted look at Hermione before leaving through the door after Pansy. Draco approached the wall Hermione was still pressed against, grabbing her chains once more and forcefully pulling her towards him.
“Time for a bath, dog.” He snarled.
He led her towards the double doors, pausing to look at Blaise and said, “Stay in here until my father returns. Do not bite anyone. If I hear you paid the Weaslette a visit, I’ll rip your fangs out myself.”
Blaise glared but said nothing. He took a seat at the dining table and grabbed a wine bottle that was filled with a thick red liquid, he poured it into a wine glass. Draco smirked at Blaise’s disgruntled obedience then led Hermione out of the throne room.
Hermione had no choice but to follow Draco down the hall, his pace was slow but determined. She noticed the several empty portraits and wondered what happened to the images of long dead Malfoy ancestors.
Draco glanced back at her and noticed her curious expression.
“Father had them banished to a canvas in the dungeons,” he said with a snort, “Most of them didn’t agree with us becoming vile creatures and wouldn’t shut up about it. Now they’re all uncomfortably scrunched together in one painting, forced to stare at the dingy damp walls.”
Hermione said nothing as he continued to lead her down the hall. He finally stopped at the door to his bedroom, opening it and pulling her inside. His room was enormous, filled with dark colors, bookshelves, antiques, ornate furniture and a large bed with an emerald-green canopy draped above it. Her eyes widened at the sight of the Greengrass sisters, still lying naked in his bed, peacefully asleep.
“Daphne! Astoria!” Draco barked.
Daphne awoke with a sharp gasp and sat up frantically. She saw Hermione and looked at her with disgust. When she met Draco’s eyes, she immediately knew not to say anything. She shook Astoria hastily and the younger sister groaned weakly.
“Get her out of here!” Draco commanded with impatience.
“Tori, wake up,” Daphne pleaded, “We have to go.”
Astoria murmured and tried to pull herself up. She whimpered and slumped back down, hugging the pillow to herself.
“Now Daph!” Draco hissed.
“I’m sorry Draco,” Daphne cried, still shaking her sister, “She’s weak from blood loss.”
“You idiot,” Draco growled, “The blood replenishing potion is literally right beside you.”
Daphne winced and nodded quickly, grabbing the vial from the nightstand and pulling Astoria into her arms. She uncorked the bottle and placed it to her sister’s lips. Astoria didn’t put up a fight as her sister fed the potion to her.
Hermione watched on in horror as Astoria drank the potion. Then Daphne pulled her sister off the bed and kept an arm around her as she led her out of the room, still completely nude. Draco ignored Hermione’s bewildered expression and entered the bathroom that was connected to his room.
“Over here, mudblood!” he shouted with a snap of his fingers.
Hermione turned towards the direction of the bathroom and panic set in. Her body froze and she felt glued to the floor. A part of her hoped Draco would allow her a private bath, but the practical part of her knew that wasn’t going to happen. Draco’s impatience grew immensely as he turned to face her.
She still couldn’t move, even when Draco barreled towards her, his steps quick and threatening just like his fathers were only moments ago. The chains were in his hands again and he pulled her roughly into him. Hermione let out a shrill squeak and fell into his arms. Draco gripped her arm, his hold bruising as he dragged her into the bathroom.
The enormous claw foot tub would seem inviting if the circumstances were different. He let her go and turned on the tap. An aroma of citrus and peppermint filled the air as he added oils into the water. Hermione was frozen again as she watched the tub fill up.
“Are you going to take off your clothes or must I do that for you?” Draco asked bitterly as he tested the temperature of the water.
“My… my clothes?” Hermione asked nervously.
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. He pulled out his wand and banished the chains around her wrists. Hermione rubbed her sore wrists and stared at Draco with a mixture of fear and hatred. He approached her and she backed away, grabbing the zipper of her jacket and sliding it down with haste.
“Hurry up.” He growled.
Hermione fought through the trembling, removing her jacket and her boots first. Draco stood impatiently as he watched her trembling hands grip the hem of her shirt then slide it over her head. Draco was disappointed yet not surprised to see a sports bra underneath. He fought the urge to sink his teeth into her exposed skin.
Draco grew tired of waiting, gripping her waistband and yanking her towards him. He tore the button open from her trousers and tugged her jeans down with forceful haste. Hermione’s arms flew to her chest and her body tightened as she felt his cold hands against her now bare legs.
He let her pants drop to her ankles, sinking down into a kneeling position and running his nose along her thigh. Hermione let out a whimper. His fingers felt like ice, trailing up her skin before hooking into her knickers.
“Please don’t,” she whispered.
“You need a bath, mudblood.” He murmured, his tongue darted out and licked her inner thigh, she whimpered again.
He slid her knickers down slowly to drag out her torture. Her trembling increased, he could sense her heart rate picking up, the blood through her veins flowing faster and he could smell her fear-- his cock hardened in his trousers. He grabbed her calf with surprise gentleness to lift her leg and pull her pants, socks and knickers off completely.
Draco shivered, his hands grabbed her hips, and he pressed his nose against her core. Hermione yelped and slapped him; Draco’s face snapped to the side. He gripped her hips tighter and smirked. That smirk sent chills down her spine.
Draco looked up at her, eyes wild with deviance and lust. His nails dug into her curves, forcing her body closer to his face. Hermione let out a cry the moment Draco’s mouth pressed against her clit, his lips sucking the sensitive bud with vigor.
Hermione gripped his hair, yanking at his scalp, using all her force to try and pull him away. Draco growled and held her tighter, sucking harder. Hermione felt disgusted and terrified. Her eyes welled with tears as she continued her fight. She managed to slide her leg between his arms and knee him in the chest.
Draco fell to the floor and let out a laugh that caused her skin to prickle. Even though they were separated she could still feel his mouth on her. Draco got to his feet and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. She took a step back when she saw him draw his wand.
Draco took a calculated step towards her, his wand pressing against the fabric of her sports bra.
“Diffindo,” he whispered. The garment sliced in half, sliding open instantly. A small cut formed between her breasts, causing a light trail of blood to run down her skin. Draco’s eyes darkened and his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. His hands were on her again. He gripped her biceps and pulled her chest into his face. He licked the line of blood off her skin as if she were candy. He let out a deep groan that made Hermione shudder.
With his hands still tightly on her arms, Draco led her backwards towards the tub.
“Get in.” he commanded.
Hermione felt as if she had no other choice. She took a step into the scolding water, the pain barely registering. She placed another foot inside. Draco’s hands slid up to her shoulders and he pressed down, her knees buckled, and she sank into the water.
She watched on in horror as Draco began removing his clothes, sliding his open button up off his arms and letting it drop to the floor. He kicked his boots off then unzipped his trousers. He wore no boxers, his cock springing free as he stepped out of his pants. She recoiled; he was already hard. His body was pale and toned, his chest littered with faded battle scars and the black of his Dark Mark contrasted loudly with his fair skin.
Draco sat on the edge of the tub, placing his legs into the water and framing her body. He grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back against the wall of the tub. She could see his cock from her peripheral, and she tried not to look at it. Draco grabbed a washcloth, lathering it with soap then ran it across her neck with tender care.
His gentleness scared her and Hermione knew she was in for a long night. Draco hummed a soft tune, adding more to the sinister atmosphere. Hermione sat completely still, feeling the cloth slide along her collarbone and shoulders. He paid extra attention to her breasts, squeezing them through the rag and chuckling when he felt her nipples harden.
“You can look at it,” Draco teased as he continued to bathe her.
Hermione scoffed and turned her head in the opposite direction of his member, “You’re pathetic, Malfoy.”
He dropped the washcloth into the water then grabbed her face, forcing her to look directly at his cock. Hermione gripped the edges of the tub in an attempt to pull herself away, but Draco dug his fingers harder into her cheeks. Hermione screamed and let go of the tub to claw at his hands. Once she released her grip on the tub, Draco pulled her closer to his erection and rubbed her face against it.
“Stop!” Hermione shrieked, desperately trying to pull away, water was splashing everywhere as she kicked her legs and dug her nails into his arms.
Draco, still gripping the sides of her face, pulled her to her knees with surprising strength, forcing her body to turn towards his. Hermione screamed again. Draco released his hands then slapped her across the face. Hermione screeched and she touched her face, realizing his signet ring cut her. Scarlett trailed down her cheek and Draco’s eyes darkened at the sight.
“If you don’t settle down right now mudblood,” he warned, “I will drain you dry. Understood?”
Hermione snorted, “Your father said he needs me alive.”
He grabbed her hair again, forcing her head back and exposing her neck. His fangs protruded and he leaned down to ghost his lips along her pulse point, “He only needs you alive to lure Potter here. Scarhead will come whether you’re alive or not. His rescue mission will simply just turn into a journey of revenge.”
Hermione shut her eyes, knowing that Draco was right.
“Do you want to live, Granger?” he asked venomously.
“Yes.” She whispered.
He forced himself away from her neck. Draco gripped his length, running the tip along her bloody cheek. He groaned, “Then suck my cock.”
“Fuck you!” Hermione snarled.
Draco chuckled, he rubbed the tip of his cock over her lips, her own blood smearing across her mouth, “Fuck me?” he said mockingly, “Oh Granger, I believe you have that backwards. No, I am going to fuck you, and I am going to bite you. I am going to drink the dirty blood from your neck while I fill you with my clean, perfect Pureblood seed. Sounds like you’re getting the better end of the deal, eh?”
Hermione wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him he was a vile monster, but she didn’t want to open her mouth because she knew he was waiting for the opportunity to shove his length down her throat. She felt disgusting, feeling his cock run along her lips, his precum mixing with her blood. She wanted to bite it. She seriously considered biting it.
“Open your mouth, mudblood.”
She tightened her lips.
Draco chuckled, he continued running his tip along her lips as he spoke in a low, threatening tone, “Don’t we have your boyfriend in the dungeons?”
Hermione’s eyes widened. Draco didn’t miss the reaction.
He smirked, “Ah, we do, don’t we? I could send Zabini to fetch him. How about I cast a sticking charm on him… make him stand right there?” He pointed to a spot on the floor, just a few feet away from the tub, “I could use magic to force his eyes open. Better yet, I could use the Imperius Curse. Would you like that, mudblood? I’ll have him stroke himself while he watches me defile you.”
A tear slid down Hermione’s cheek and she reluctantly opened her mouth.
“That’s a good girl,” Draco murmured, sliding the head of his cock between her lips, “Just remember, if you bite me, I’ll bite you.”
Hermione fought the urge to vomit, shutting her eyes tight as she felt him slide further into her mouth. His cock didn’t feel cold like the rest of his body, but it wasn’t exactly warm either. It just felt hard, thick, suffocating. She shuddered when she heard him moan.
Draco grabbed a fistful of her hair and thrusted deeper, hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag. He let out another husky moan, “There you go,” he praised, “You were made for this mudblood. Worshipping my cock like the lowly filth you are. Fuck, use more tongue.”
Hermione chanced a glance at him, her tears flowing freely now. He had his head back, mouth open and fangs showing. She could see remnants of blood on them. Her stomach twisted as she remembered the naked Greengrass sisters in his bed, weak and disoriented and sporting matching puncture wounds on their neck. She imagined that had to be unbelievably painful and could not understand why anyone would willingly allow a vampire to drink from them.
She gagged again and she became more nauseated the more he pushed down her throat. She tried her best to relax, to breathe through her nose, but she was crying too hard, and her nose became stuffy. She feared she was going to vomit.
“I love hearing you choke on my cock, mudblood,” Draco murmured, eyes still closed and ignorant to her growing nausea.
Hermione began to panic, which in turn made it harder to breathe. Her jaw was tingling. She was frightened by what Draco may do if she vomited on him. She gripped his thighs, trying to steady his movements. Her grip only excited Draco more and his thrusts became quicker and harder. She could feel her lunch coming up.
With one hard shove, Hermione broke from Draco’s hold and immediately retched over the side of the tub. Draco’s eyes flew open, and his nostrils flared. Hermione didn’t notice, she was too busy clinging to the side of the tub as her insides came up and onto the floor.
“You filthy fucking--!” Draco snarled and yanked her hair; Hermione gave a choked sob as her head was thrown back against his knees. Draco’s mouth was at her ear, he growled low, his breath ragged, “That fucking reeks you disgusting bitch.”
“Malfoy, I didn’t mean to!” Hermione shrieked, “You were gagging me, and I couldn’t breathe!”
He lifted her up violently by her hair, water splashed onto the tile, mixing in with her vomit. She assumed Draco had always been strong, but his vampiric strength was something else entirely. He had pulled her up so hard she was off her feet for a few seconds.
She could hear his heavy breathing, see his chest heaving from her peripheral. He stepped out of the tub first then pulled her out, placing her bare feet way too close to her mess on the floor.
“MOPSY!” he bellowed.
An elf appeared with a pop, trembling uncontrollably and hugging herself, “Y-Yes Master Malfoy?” she squeaked.
“Clean up this mess,” he snarled, “Then get Daphne in here.”
The terrified elf nodded, snapped her fingers and the vomit disappeared. Then Mopsy vanished with a crack. Hermione stood as still as she could, Draco still holding her hair with a tight fist. They waited in tortuous silence for several minutes until they heard the click of his bedroom door.
Daphne entered the bathroom, no longer naked and wearing what appeared to be a provocative servant’s uniform. She sneered at Hermione before meeting Draco’s eyes. Her expression shifted from disgust to wistful. Hermione noticed some color had returned to her cheeks.
“Yes Draco?” she said with a hint of pining.
“The mudblood here,” he yanked her hair again and Hermione squeaked, “With all her book smarts doesn’t know how to give a proper blowjob.”
Daphne snorted.
Draco glared at Daphne, “Show her.”
Daphne nodded and sank to her knees, “Of course, Draco.”
Draco shoved Hermione to her knees right beside Daphne, “Pay close attention.”
Hermione watched in absolute horror as Daphne gazed into Draco’s eyes and opened her mouth. She slid her tongue along the tip of his cock and then kissed it, as if she was worshipping him. Hermione wanted to vomit all over again.
Then Daphne wrapped her lips around his length, her eyes never leaving Draco’s as she sank him deeper into her waiting mouth. She gazed at him as if she was seeking his approval. Draco gave her a sideways smirk, and Daphne’s eyes lit up with delight.
“See how submissive she is, mudblood?” he said in a husky tone, “Taking my cock with no complaints. She practically drools for it. Look how she wraps her lips around me, look at how far she can take me and look at how pleased she is to do it. Daphne, unlike you, knows her place. Don’t you, Daph?”
Daphne nodded and gave a low hum.
Draco moaned, “She knows what an honor it is to please me, to bed me, to have me feast on her. And in return, she’s well taken care of. Isn’t that right, pet?”
Daphne nodded again. Hermione noticed Daphne taking a deep breath then taking him even deeper into her mouth. She watched as Daphne’s eyes began to water, and to Hermione’s utter surprise, Daphne did not gag when her throat began to expand to accommodate him.
Daphne’s nose was now pressed against Draco’s abdomen, and Draco gripped her head and held her in place. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he gave a low groan. Hermione could tell Daphne was trying her hardest to remain still while holding her breath. She didn’t miss the way Daphne clenched her fists as she tried to remain Draco’s perfect little compliant pet.
Draco finally released her, and Daphne pulled back, gasping for air. Draco only gave her a few seconds before he rammed his cock back into her mouth. He held her face tightly between his hands and thrusted mercilessly into her mouth. Daphne held onto his hips for leverage.
The room began to fill with the sounds of Daphne’s slurping and gagging, no longer able to focus on relaxing her throat due to Draco’s relentless pace. Hermione’s face was inches from their performance; she saw drool trail down Daphne’s chin as Draco showed no signs of slowing down.
“Fuck Daphne,” Draco’s breath picked up, “Keep going.”
Daphne continued, holding on tighter and moving her head faster, still making obscene noises. Draco would thrust all the way from time to time and Hermione would see Daphne’s neck bulge. It shouldn’t have looked so erotic, but Daphne’s eyes told Hermione that she was enjoying this.
“I’m close,” Draco said through gritted teeth, “Open your mouth, mudblood.”
“What?!” Hermione said with a gasp.
Draco growled, “It’ll either be on your face or down your throat, you decide. Either way, I’m cumming on you.”
Daphne gave a whimper but didn’t argue. She couldn’t anyway.
With a guttural groan, Draco pulled himself from Daphne’s face and rammed his cock into Hermione’s mouth. Hermione’s shriek was muffled. She felt his cock tense as Draco held her in place with his large hands. Then she felt the pulsating, she tasted the warm rush of thick liquid. She tried to pull away, but Draco held tight.
He finally released her and pulled away, breathless. Hermione sat completely still, her mouth full of his essence.
Draco smirked, “Swallow it.”
Hermione shook her head.
Daphne scoffed, “You ungrateful bint!” she shrieked, “Swallow it! Swallow it now!”
Draco leaned dangerously close to her neck, fangs protruding. Hermione gave a shudder as she tried to inch back. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Her body fought against her movements as she forced his seed down. She fought the nausea. She fought the tears. Hermione felt completely and totally disgusted with herself.
He stroked her hair, his tender touch felt sinister. He whispered softly in her ear, “Now was that so bad?”
Hermione whimpered and she trembled. Her body was so tired from fighting, weak from nausea and exhausted from crying. She closed her eyes, but she could still feel Draco and Daphne looking at her.
“You can go now, Daphne.” Draco commanded.
Hermione heard some shuffling and retreating footsteps. Daphne had left quietly, but Hermione was sure she wasn’t happy about being dismissed.
Draco grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. His nose was in her hair, and he inhaled, “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured.
“How?” Hermione asked with a tremor in her voice.
“What do you mean how?” he asked incredulously.
“You just….” She whispered, “Finished.”
He chuckled and pulled on her arm, Hermione opened her eyes and saw she was being led into the bedroom, “I’m a vampire, Granger. I may not be able to see the sun but my stamina and my appetite is boundless.” He gestured to his cock; Hermione’s eyes followed his gesture and saw he was still completely hard.
Draco shoved her onto the bed, sheets still wrinkled from his rendezvous with the Greengrass sisters and smelling of blood, sweat and sex. He forced her legs apart as he sat on his knees. He didn’t waste another second as his finger violently shoved inside her. Hermione hissed and her body reflexively tried to scramble back. He pressed a hand on her hip, keeping her in place.
Draco tisked, “You’re bone dry. This simply won’t do.” His finger dragged along her insides, moving in and out over and over until her body began to respond and build up moisture.
Hermione whimpered, his finger was so cold, and she hated that her body was responding to his intrusion. She knew it was a normal response, a way for her body to bring her some comfort in this assault, but the last thing she wanted was for Draco Malfoy to believe she was getting aroused by him.
“That’s better,” he crooned, inserting a second finger, “Get nice and wet for me, mudblood.”
She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes; she couldn’t bear to look at him. If he would just shut up, maybe she could imagine this was Ron. A futile attempt on her part, Ron was never so rough nor was he so vulgar. Still, she had to try.
But his fingers were so cold…
Draco’s thumb pressed against her clit, drawing hard, slow circles. Hermione whimpered and kept trying to think about Ron.
“Look at me.” Draco commanded.
There went that idea. Hermione forced her eyes open, staring at Draco with burning hatred. She noticed his other hand was gripped around his cock and he was stroking himself. The image made her shudder. His fingers curled inside her, his thumb circled faster. She became wetter.
Hermione was crying again, more from humiliation than from pain. Her tears only encouraged him as he withdrew his fingers quickly and replaced them with his cock, impaling her with a force so sudden, she choked on a scream.
“Oh, you are so fucking tight, mudblood.” Draco groaned, not even bothering to start off slow. He was still sitting on his knees, and he wrapped her legs around him as his thrusts became more brutal.
Hermione stared wide-eyed at the canopy above her, tears flowing freely and her body shifting up and down against the silk sheets. He was larger than she expected, and her insides felt as if they were tearing apart. It hurt, yet she was tired of screaming.
So, she stared at the canopy, his pale body barely in her peripheral. His moans and heavy breathing seemed far off. The pain seemed to dull. Hermione briefly realized her body was going into shock. Yet another biological defense mechanism Mother Nature had gifted to the human body.
His voice echoed faintly in her ears, “You maybe filthy, but your cunt is just as good as other witches. Tight and wet and ready to milk me dry. How does it feel, mudblood? Going from war heroine to a Malfoy whore?”
Pathetic Draco, she thought to herself.
“I think I’ll keep you around,” he murmured breathlessly, “Fuck you in every room of this Manor. We’ll move on to the dungeons next, give Weasley a show. Then the dining room table, the grand staircase, my father’s throne, the library… you’d like that, wouldn’t you Granger? Maybe I’ll let you read to me while I rail you in the history section.”
Is he still talking?
The vision of the green canopy was suddenly replaced by his blonde hair and pale features as he shifted to hover over her. She woke from her trance and the pain and fear came back with vengeance. His breath picked up, his mouth was on her neck. She felt his fangs scrape against her skin.
“No!” she cried.
Draco thrusted one last time, he let out a deep groan and she felt him pulsating inside her. The utter shame of feeling his release in her body was soon replaced with indescribable pain and she screamed the moment she felt his teeth piercing her neck. Sharp fangs dug in deep; she heard him swallowing, she felt the warm blood run down her skin.
She screamed until she was too weak to do anything.
Then Hermione Granger stilled, eyes glazed over, staring at the canopy again as Draco Malfoy fed on her.