The Vampire Malfoy

Chapter One: If You're Gone

I think I've already lost you, I think that you're already gone

I think that I'm finally scared now

You think that I'm weak- but you're wrong

I think that you're so mean- I think we should try

I think I could need this in my life

I think I'm just scared- I think too much

I know this is wrong. It's a problem. I'm dealing.

If you're gone, maybe it's time to go home

There's an awful lot of breathing room, but I can barely move

If you're gone, you need to come home

'Cause there's a little bit of something me in everything in you.

(If You're Gone- Matchbox Twenty)

It was a rainy afternoon at Hogwarts and rumours were rife. Above the buzz of whispering students gathered in the entrance hall, a pair of feet could be heard pounding their way up to Gryffindor Tower. The young boy sprinted up the stairs, wheezing and panting in the effort of getting there first. He reached the painting that stood guard over the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, and hastily puffed out the password. He hurried through the portrait hole and over to the fireplace, where a messy-haired, bespectacled boy sat with his friends.

"Harry!" the boy puffed, clutching at the stitch in his side.

Harry Potter looked up at him and smiled. "Hi Colin, how are you?"

His companions, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, nodded at him before returning to their work.

Colin Creevey beamed at the older boy, sliding into the seat next to him.

"Have you heard?"

Harry shook his head. "What?"

Colin took a deep breath and delivered his news.

"Draco Malfoy has quit the Quidditch team."

Whatever reaction Colin had been expecting, it certainly wasn't what followed.

Harry looked dumbfounded. His jaw dropped open and he sat gaping. After a few moments of shocked silence he asked, "Is this true?"

Colin nodded earnestly.

"They've just posted the team lists in the entrance hall, and he's not on the Slytherin squad. There's a note saying he won't be returning as Seeker or Captain again."

Harry turned to his friends, jaw still hanging open. They were both staring at him expectantly. When he didn't say anything, Ron punched his arm lightly.

"Well, good riddance, eh Harry?" the red haired boy said with a smile. "I expect you'll be glad not to have to put up with his insults and useless blabbering out on the pitch anymore."

Harry stood up suddenly, knocking over his chair, then turned and ran up the stairs to his dorm.

Hermione looked up from her Transfiguration book. "Well done, Ron."

Ron turned to her. "What? What did I say?"

Hermione just shook her head, glancing over at Colin, who was still sitting at their table, despite the disappearance of his hero.

Ron fell silent and they pretended to study until Colin finally sidled away, looking disappointed.

Once the fifth year boy was out of earshot, Ron put down his quill.

"Well?"

Hermione sighed, and closed the textbook she was reading.

"I love you, Ron, but you've got to be the most insensitive person I know."

Ron shot her a dirty look.

"All I said was I thought he'd be glad to lose the competition."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Exactly."

"Huh?" Ron said, rather eloquently.

Hermione sighed loudly.

"Really, Ron, sometimes you are just too dense for words."

Ron glared at her and she hastily continued.

"Think of it this way. Imagine you find a chess player who is your most worthy opponent. Someone who tests you, who makes you think, who keeps you on your toes."

Ron nodded, following so far.

"Imagine how it feels to beat them, and also how it feels to lose against them- the obvious disappointment, but also the knowledge that you've lost to someone worthy of winning."

Ron's eyes misted over slightly- he was obviously imagining such a person.

"Now imagine they suddenly decide they will never, ever, play chess again. That you will never play against them again. How would you feel?"

Ron made a face, having been pulled rudely from his fantasy by this thought.

"I'd be devastated." he said, looking at her. "There'd almost be no point for me to play anymore."

He paused, thinking.

"Oh, bloody hell!"

Hermione nodded. "Exactly."

Ron glanced up at the stairs up which Harry had vanished. He bit his lip and turned back to Hermione.

"Do you think we should go and talk to him?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, let's leave him alone. He needs some time to himself right now. And he knows where to find us."

Ron nodded.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot of studying to you," Hermione continued, opening her textbook. "As do you, Ron," she added pointedly.

Ron scowled, bending his head to his work, and they continued to study in a companionable silence.

They were so engrossed that neither of them notices the breeze as someone ran down the stairs and opened the portrait hole, slipping through unseen with the aid of an invisibility cloak.