Heart's Desire

But there was fire.

Draco's grey eyes widened as he took in the scene. There was fire trailing him, burning fixedly in place behind him. So Draco did the sensible thing.

He ran in the opposite direction. He whipped around a corner-

And nearly crashed into his father.

"Draco?" came his father's puzzled voice.

"Uh..." What could he say to his father that wouldn't make him feel stupider than he already did? Lucius had a talent for making people feel stupid. Especially his son. "There's fire in the hallway," he finished lamely.

A look of faint alarm crossed Lucius's face- many expensive things were kept in the hallway, where they could be showed off- before he swept around Draco and peered into the hallway.

"So there is," Lucius commented mildly, instantly making Draco feel as if he'd overreacted. "I will have to apprehend the foolish house elf who let this happen," he continued conversationally. "Aquaria!" he finished, pointing his wand at the flames.

The spell caused a thin ribbon of water to spew from the end of Lucius's wand. In midair, the ribbon suddenly widened and splashed into a torrent- yet the water was not truly wet in the traditional sense, so did not soak anything. The flames hissed angrily as the water brushed them, but they did not go out.

Lucius's pale brow furrowed. "Ignius Eliminius," he tried again, sending another jet of water at the fire- this time, magical water that should quench any flame. The flames sputtered, but finally gave in and died.

That was when Draco noticed something. "Uh.. the fire didn't burn anything," he said, with the nasty feeling that his father would abruptly make him feel like an idiot again.

"Astute observation," Lucius commented dryly, unknowingly confirming his son's fear. His tone of voice was wry, but when he turned to his son, it was with such a solemn face that Draco thought someone must have died.

"Come with me, Draco."

Wondering what he could possibly have done wrong, Draco followed his father into the study. There, Lucius stood staring at his bookcases before glancing at Draco with a calculating look in his cold grey eyes.

"Draco, I want you to tell me what you were feeling before you saw the fire. Don't try to get out of telling me: this is very important."

Draco felt a faint blush begin to creep up his slender neck. "Do you really want to know?"

Lucius gave him half a dry smile. "Not the perverted things, please."

Draco smirked. "As you wish. I guess since it's so important for you to know, I was angry. At many things. And at nothing. But why do you want to know?"

Lucius turned fully to face his son. "Because I have just now remembered that you are the one who shall be- or is- afflicted with the Dracen Curse, as we Malfoys call it."

Draco's heart plummeted. It landed with a smack against the unforgiving stone floor. "What?" he gasped.

Lucius continued blithely- but of course he was blithe about it! He wasn't the one who was cursed! "The Dracen Curse -which is basically a rare curse with many unpleasant dragonish side effects- was placed upon one of our more foolish ancestors, twenty years before the founding of Hogwarts if you want to reckon time by that date. It was placed upon him by the dying dragon he slew. He was a bit of a dragon-hunter- he went after them for their powerful blood- but most unfortunately for him, he targeted a dragon which could strike back. This dragon cursed him with awesome powers-"

Draco's eyes lit up.

"-that were completely out of his control and very dangerous, not only to others, but to himself."

Draco's heart pounded onto the hard stone floor again.

"The curse appears every fourth generation. Every Malfoy who has been afflicted has died from it," Lucius commented, tacking on the last three words as if they were an afterthought.

You really don't care about me, do you? Draco thought dryly.

"So fight it. You're too important to lose."

Draco looked up, skepticism clear in his face. Lucius cared about him?

An impossibility. Lucius had a reputation for using people. "Too important to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, you mean?"

Lucius's eyes flashed once. "That is Lord Voldemort to you, Draco," he snapped.

Draco rolled his silver-grey eyes. "Yeah, whatever. So what are these 'powers' I'm supposed to have?"

Lucius raised a jet black eyebrow. The boy certainly drove for the power first! "They include control of fire, dragon wings, and Dracentongue. You saw the control of fire part earlier. Though I can't say that you were really controlling it."

Draco blinked. "Dragon wings? Dracentongue? What?"

Lucius sighed. "Boy, it means that occasionally you will be able to sprout dragon wings, and that you can speak dragon language!" he snapped. "I never thought that you were this thick!"

Oh.

"But how is that going to hurt me?" Draco said quickly.

"Oh, that's not what really hurts you. When the curse was used, it also transferred some powers of the dragon itself into our ancestor. Those are the side effects I mentioned. It wasn't a conscious decision on the part of the dragon, really. Just a side effect of the curse. The true curse is what will hurt you."

Draco was getting impatient. "What is the true curse?"

Lucius ignored the impatient tone. "All Malfoys have a small amount of vampire blood in them, but not enough to make them need or crave blood," he stated, making Draco jump. "It simply makes us look slightly like vampires."

Vampire?!

"Huh?" he said intelligently.

"But the base curse- the Bloodlust Curse, I believe is the common name, gives the victim a thirst for blood. But for us Malfoys, it intensifies the vampire blood of the cursed one, and the cursed one only. While all other Malfoys can live without blood- most never even tasting it in their lifetimes- the cursed one must seek it out periodically in the manner of a true vampire. When he- or she- passes the age of sixteen, the curse is activated, complete with accessory powers, and the one suffers from bloodlust, which will ultimately lead to his demise."

"Oh yes," Lucius began offhandedly after a pause, "of course you will also need to know that all Malfoys are also part veela. It makes us immune to the charms of the veela, and also allows us to turn on the charm of the veela. But the veela blood was bred into our line after the curse, so it's not affected."

I could have girls hanging off me wherever I go, Draco thought. I wonder whether that's a good thing or a bad thing? Seeing as I'm sixteen, that's good. Seeing that I'm a raving blood-drinking cursed soul as well, that's bad. The girls' mothers wouldn't like me.

Draco sighed, terminating that train of thought. "You know you're going to overload my brain if you keep going on like this? Okay, I'm vampiric, I'm part veela. What else? Don't tell me I'm a werewolf too?"

"No, just veela and vampire," Lucius snapped. "But it was poetic justice, really," Lucius muttered, more to himself than to his son. "Our ancestor slew this dragon for its blood- so it made him need blood to live all the rest of his life. The cravings were terrible, as well. I watched my grandfather, who was afflicted with this curse. He needed blood, and if he did not get it, he shrivel- he turned unpleasant," Lucius finished awkwardly.

"Then how exactly am I going to live through this?" Draco with a sardonic edge to his voice.

"You will have to go back to Hogwarts for now," Lucius said, making Draco jump again.

"Hogwarts? Why? If I'm with bloodlust, wouldn't it be kind of bad for me to go there? I trust Dumbledore wouldn't like it if there was a raving bloodsucking boy running around school," he asked wryly.

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Exactly. I wish to ask Lord Voldemort about this... but while I am asking, it would be nice to have Dumbledore thinking as well," Lucius stated, malice glittering in his cold grey eyes. "Dumbledore will certainly try to cure you... if it is possible... as you are instrumental in his plans as well..."

Draco was thoroughly confused- and not for the first time today. "Plans?" he ventured tentatively, as he watched his father's face slide back into its normal expression of neutrality. Lucius looked up, his eyes widening as if truly seeing Draco for the first time. "Nothing that concerns you, Draco," he said, and from his tone Draco knew it was final. "Now go. Spend the rest of your summer doing something costructive, for once. And..." -Lucius's eyes narrowed back to slits- "may I remind you that you got lucky today. If you use that insolent tone of voice with me again after this point in time you will be locked in your room for quite a long time."

Damn.

* * * * *

"Remember, Draco," Lucius hissed in his son's ear as Draco made to board the Hogwarts Express, "Do try to keep under control. I'm sure the curse in you will break out eventually in some way regardless, but try not to get too emotional. Once is enough to get Dumbledore's attention. Plan carefully."

Draco nodded, wishing his father would hurry up and go, as he was hanging rather awkwardly half on and half off the train. He'd already told him this multiple times, and Draco was getting sick of being constantly reminded of his... abnormality.

Just another thing to make Draco Malfoy even queerer, Draco thought resentfully as he headed towards his usual compartment, dragging his luggage, and stalked in.

Crabbe and Goyle were already there. Looking dull as usual. Shoving his stuff into a corner, Draco turned and sat opposite the two, putting on his don't-bother-me look.

So of course, Crabbe and Goyle bothered him anyway.

"Something wrong?" Goyle said slowly, formulating the words carefully. Draco shook his head violently. "No."

He leaned back, looking out the window. The train had begun to move, and he could see his father's receding back, drawing away from the Mudbloods and various other scum that occupied the train platform.

Why me? Why not another Malfoy? Though I admit, it's cool to have powers, what's the use of them if I can't even control them? he thought bitterly as he watched the scenery begin to flick past. Well, shit, if I'm going to have these 'powers', I hope they strike down those good for nothing Mudbloods.

He didn't know how long he was there, drowning in his thoughts. They all seemed to go in circles, returning eternally to the 'Why me?' statement. It soon became too much for him.

"C'mon, let's go see how Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood have been faring," he said, a hint of a frustrated snarl in his voice as he stood abruptly. Crabbe and Goyle, too slow to follow the complicated nuances of Draco's voice tones, followed Draco as he stalked out of the compartment.

Pushing past a gaggle of other sixth-years and sweeping past a terrified knot of first-years, Draco paused as he came to a stop in front of the Gryffindors' compartment door, his slender hand resting on the doorknob. For within he heard happy voices, laughing and talking together. Friends. He felt cold stinging in his eyes, and, realizing what they were, he bit his lip.

Have you gone soft, Malfoy?

He instantly regretted it- not the mental reprimand, but the biting action- he had almost cut his lip open.

Why are m- oh no.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he almost sliced it open on a pair of canines that were both longer and sharper than they should have been.

Well, shit. I've got fangs.

All the better.

Draco opened the door. He had a reputation to live up to.

The talking abruptly stopped as he entered. He drew himself up to more effectively sweep his gaze across the compartment. But it was not only occupied by Potter, Weasley, and Granger. It also held-

"Longbottom?" Draco sneered, his lip curling. "You finally dragged yourself out of your little hiding place to seek refuge with you 'friends'?"

Longbottom's mouth worked soundlessly. It looked as if he wanted to talk back, but was too afraid to do so. Draco laughed softly.

In a flash, Potter and Weasley were on their feet. "Shove off, Malfoy," Weasley snarled.

"And what if I don't want to, Weasel?" Draco sneered.

"We'll throw you out, you little rat," Weasley said, making a violent gesture in the air.

"Little?" Malfoy said in a mock hurt tone, and the four Gryffindors paused.

Simultaneously, the same thought flashed through the four's minds.

Oh my God... the impossible happened... Draco Malfoy hit puberty!

And so he had. Now a healthy 5'10", he stood as tall as Ron, the tallest Gryffindor present. Draco's voice had also deepened slightly, which he was using to his full advantage. He was still a bit on the slender side, but his robes hid that.

Draco glowered down at the Gryffindors, making it a point to look down further than he really had to. They seemed momentarily shocked speechless at the sudden revelation they had experienced.

"But I just got here," Draco pouted. "You're not going to kick me out right away, are you?"

"Yes, we are," Harry snapped, moving forward.

At that unfortunate moment, the rattle of metal and the squeak of wheels heralded the approach of the adult witch that pushed the food cart. Draco's eyes flashed once as he backed from the compartment.

"I'll see myself out then, Potty. You don't have to jump up to escort me, though your concern touches me," said Draco softly, as he slid the door shut. "See you at school, Mudblood-lovers."

* * * * *

A few hours later found Draco sitting idly through Dumbledore's announcements.

"And this year," the headmaster said, "our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be Professor Maureen O'Sullivan."

A stunning young woman- 25 maybe?- stood briefly. She had rippling blonde hair down to the middle of her back, and the most unusual eyes Draco had ever seen, apart from the ones he saw in the mirror every day. They were green- not a bright green, like Harry's- but a deep, smoky green that seemed to stretch inwards infinitely.

As she resumed her seat, there came a scattering of applause for her that was noticeably more enthusiastic among those of the male persuasion.

"Also," Dumbledore continued, "On Friday, the classes for sixth-years and above will end half an hour early. You will be told more of this when Friday arrives."

As Dumbledore finished his announcements and sat, Draco stared pensively into space. Wonder what that's for?

Deep in thought, he barely noted what he was eating. There was a sense of urgency within him, as if something was fighting to get out of him.

That'll be the evil curse, I suppose, he thought. Howducky.

The schedules were being passed down the table now, and Draco took his, his grey eyes quickly skimming the list.

History of Magic. Transfiguration. Potions with the Ravenclaws. Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors. Arithmancy. Divination. Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. And so on and so forth.

It's quite a pity the Gryffindors aren't taking Potions with us again this year, Draco thought as he perused his schedule, food forgotten. But Care of Magical Creatures begins tomorrow. Fair compensation.

* * * * *

The next day was passing fairly quickly. All except for History of Magic, which crept by. Draco fell asleep twice before the bell rang. But Transfiguration was getting interesting. They were moving into human Transfiguration, and Draco's sick little mind knew exactly what it wanted to do with some of the procedures Professor McGonagall was giving them notes about.

"Human Transfiguration," her sharp voice came, "is a very risky procedure, especially when you are dealing with crossbreeds. If the transfiguration of a human to centaur is botched, the horse end may end up where you sorely do not want it."

Draco's quill darted to parchment to idly doodle the hypothetical results of this.

Potions is tomorrow, Draco thought, peering at his schedule, so Care of Magical Creatures is next. Joy.

The ground was muddy from rainfall. Crabbe and Goyle had no problem with slogging through the mud, but Draco was less than pleased with the splats of wet dirt that were getting all over the place.

My poor clothes. They're getting soaked, he fretted.

He was glad when they finally reached Hagrid's house- there was drier land there- but his heart immediately plummeted again when he saw the enclosure. There were multiple crates within, and they were all shaking slightly, as if things were trying to get out of them. Which was probably the case.

The Gryffindors were already there, standing around in an apprehensive knot by the fence watching the boxes jerk around. Draco and the rest of the Slytherins came up as well, and there was a healthy exchange of nasty looks before Hagrid returned.

"New project this year- I've given up on th' makaar we were doin' las' year," he announced, to the relief of many. Makaar had been little demonic creatures, covered with fur, and sporting rather long claws and fangs. "This year, we're doin' wyrsa."

The Slytherins looked at each other warily. That didn't really sound any better.

Hagrid pulled on dragon-hide gloves, knocked open a crate, reached in, and dragged out a hissing creature that resembled a little, two-foot long reptile. It was a dark green and had vestigial wings, a long, thrashing tail, and a brilliant red crest atop its baleful head. It opened its jaws wide, baring long, slim fangs, and attempted to bite Hagrid's hand off. However, they was ineffectual- both because Hagrid's hand was too large, and because their fangs were only about two inches long, and pretty fragile and thin looking.

"This's as big as they get," Hagrid panted as he wrestled with the thing, tying its jaws shut with a length of rope. "Normally they're pretty passive, but if yeh get one mad, it'll go wild. Now split up into groups of three, and I'll get yer group a wyrsa, and a cage fer it."

The rest of Care of Magical Creatures was pretty boring- Hagrid had instructed them to try to find out what it ate, providing them with assorted 'tidbits'. Draco did not quite fancy dribbling dripping cow liver through the bars of the cage to find out whether it would go for the liver or his hand, so he watched Crabbe and Goyle do it. Neither one of them was bitten, however, to Draco's slight disappointment, but little yelps of pain all around him said otherwise about the other groups.

"Don' worry," came Hagrid's voice, "they ain't poisonous, and their bites heal in a bit, but try not to get bit in the first place- it hurts."

Not a moment too soon, the end of class came, and Hagrid collected the cages. The class looked rather the worse for wear- many were nursing small cuts and puncture holes. The faint, coppery smell of blood hung in the air- not from the students, but from the feed Hagrid had brought out for the wyrsa. Most of the students fled as soon as the bell rang in the distance, but the three do-good Gryffindors- Potter, Weasley, and Granger- stayed behind to help Hagrid put away the cages.

As he turned to leave, Draco was suddenly stopped in his tracks by a stab of pain in his chest, followed by a spell of light-headed breathlessness. Sending Crabbe and Goyle ahead, telling them that if he was late, they should tell Professor Vector that he had been held up on the way from Care of Magical Creatures, Draco hung back against the trunk of a tree, out of sight of Hagrid and the others.

The world spun slightly out of focus for a moment, and Draco felt a sudden sense of unease. What was wrong with him? Was this it?

Shit. I think it is.

His last thought before the world faded to black was, It smells like blood.

* * * * *

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were on their way to their next class, after having stayed to help Hagrid with the wyrsa. Harry and Ron were chatting animatedly about Quidditch again, which effectively left Hermione out. She was distracted anyway- she had leaned too close to the cage to reach for the bucket of feed, and the wyrsa had left a shallow scratch on the side of her neck that welled blood. She had twisted her head to one side, trying to keep the thin trickle from getting on her robes, when she saw a familiar form lying prostrate by a tree, barely fifteen feet away.

"Harry.... Ron..." Hermione murmured, poking them, "isn't that... Malfoy?"

They were not given a chance to answer- for right after her question, the form stirred and got unsteadily to its feet. Sleek, rippling silver-blonde hair confirmed their suspicions- it was indeed Malfoy. Yet his eyes were screwed shut, as if in pain.

"Wonder what's wrong with him," Ron said. "I hope it's bad. Um... Hermione?"

Malfoy had turned to face them, and Hermione had become silent. Ron was about to say something else about teenage hormones and their unpredictability when Malfoy opened his eyes.

Ron heard Harry's sharp intake of breath beside him, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. Malfoy's eyes were grey no longer. His pupils had disappeared into the brilliant silver that his eyes now were, and he looked unearthly. He turned his glowing silver eyes on Hermione, and she left Ron's side and began walking unsteadily towards Malfoy, as if in a dream.

"Hermione?" Harry said in an unsteady voice. She ignored his voice as she stumbled towards Malfoy.

When she was barely two feet from him, she suddenly tripped. Malfoy caught her, both of them looking like they were snared in some sort of demon's nightmare. He raised her slightly, as she fainted dead away, and bent over her throat.

Fangs flashed in the sunlight as the grass was splattered with blood.

The spell (had it even been a spell?) over Harry and Ron broke, and they ran towards Malfoy, who had his fangs buried in Hermione's neck. The pale boy looked up at the sound, and, detaching his teeth from her neck briefly, whipped out his wand, spraying blood in an untidy arc as he pointed it at Ron and Harry, murmuring an incantation. The two boys froze in place, immobile, watching, as Malfoy returned to his work, and as Hermione grew paler and paler.

"WHAT'S GOIN' ON HERE?"

Harry gasped mentally in relief- for Hagrid was charging over towards them. Malfoy went for his wand again, but Hagrid was too quick- in a moment he was upon the boy. Knocking Malfoy out with a smart rap, he stared appalled at the scene.

There was blood everywhere. Malfoy and Hermione were lying prostrate on the ground, the latter still oozing blood from two neat puncture wounds in her neck. Harry and Ron, released suddenly from the binding spell, staggered and fell forwards, flat on their faces.

"You two, help me bring Hermione up to th' hospital wing. I'll take Draco," Hagrid barked, his face white. The gamekeeper picked Malfoy up, and set off, Harry and Ron panting behind him with Hermione.

The trail of blood they left behind sparkled quietly in the sunlight.

* * * * *

end of chapter one- please review!

-celeste