Venom

Draco was leaning casually against the frigid stone wall in the nether regions of noble Hogwarts. He glanced down at his watch, "Late again. Damn Gryffindor." As if on cue, said person appeared out of nowhere.

"Finally decided to show up, Potter?"

"Forgot my invisibility cloak and had to go back. Sorry," Harry said, clearly showing no remorse.

Draco smirked. He looked so much in his element, Harry thought, like he does this sort of thing every day, which, he reflected, he probably does.

"So did you bring it?" Harry asked.

"What, you mean this?" Draco produced a small phial of violet colored liquid. Harry immediately got a hungry look in his eyes at the mere sight of the potion.

"Give it to me," he said savagely.

"Patience, Potter," Draco drawled, enjoying the desperation in Harry’s voice. "You do remember our deal, don‘t you?"

Absentmindedly, with his eyes still on the bottle, Harry nodded.

"Good." Draco brought out a silver dagger with a snake on the handle from inside his robes. Harry risked himself a glance at it, but a glance was all it took for the green eyes of the serpent to strike him like venom, bewitching him. Harry often had the suspicion that it was cursed to do that.

"Hold out your arm," Draco ordered. Harry knew the routine, and obediently did what he was told. With morbid fascination, Draco stuck the tip of the knife into Harry’s skin and watched the blood trickle down his arm. No matter how many times he did it, causing Harry pain gave Draco extreme satisfaction. Especially since Harry willingly let him do it. Draco squeezed the the blood from Harry’s arm and caught it in a smaller empty phial and stowed it away in his robes. He performed a simple healing charm on Harry closing up the wound but leaving the scar. He admired all the other scars he had left along Harry’s arm. Voldemort gave him one, but I’ve given him many.

Without looking at him, Draco handed Harry his potion, which Harry grabbed with ardor and downed at once. It was fast working and spread through his veins like poison. Harry smiled as everything took on a rose trimmed haze. The world and its hopes were lifted off his shoulders, for tonight at least.

Harry peered up at Draco, looking as if he were forgetting something important. "Yes, Potter?"

"What exactly do you always my blood for, Malfoy?"

Draco grinned knowingly, "Harry, Harry. I want to survive this war. I know what protects you. I know why your mother died. Your blood is very coveted."

Harry stared blankly back at him, knowing that he should care, but somehow not minding at all. He fumbled with his cloak for awhile before giving up and dragging it along behind him.

"Same time next week?" Draco called after him.

Harry only waved drunkenly back. Draco watched him dangerously sway back and forth down the hall.

"Pathetic prat," he muttered before turning around and returning to his own dormitory.