The Vampire Malfoy

Chapter Ten

Sway

And there's no cure no way to be sure
Where everything's turned inside out
But still in so much doubt
It makes me so tired I feel so uninspired
My head is battling with my heart
My logic has been torn apart
And now it's all so sour
Cause sweets in every afternoon -Sway, Bic Runga.

***

Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling as if he'd been hit by the Hogwarts Express. Groaning, he tried to sit up. Hands pushed him down, and he glared up at Madame Pomfrey, who began to fuss over him.

He impatiently put up with the nurse's administrations. As soon as she left, he sat up.

Apart from a lingering pain in his scar, he felt fine. But the pain he'd felt... his connection with Voldemort had never been so strong before. His scar hadn't hurt at all during fifth year, and Harry had agreed with Dumbledore's theory that Voldemort was gathering his strength and allies.

So to suddenly be hit with such unbearable pain after so long was a shock in more ways than one.

Voldemort was back.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking around for his robes. He needed to see Dumbledore. And Hermione and Ron.

And Draco.

He paused, marvelling at how quickly Draco had become such an important part in his life.

"Where on earth do you think you're going?" Madame Pomfrey's voice interrupted his thoughts.

She bustled him back into bed.

"You have some visitors," she said, tucking him in.

Harry looked up to see Professor Dumbledore smiling worriedly at him. Behind him were Ron and Hermione. Hermione smiled at him. Ron simply glared.

Harry frowned, then looked at Dumbledore, who sat down in a nearby chair.

"Well, Harry," the headmaster began, "do you understand what this means?"

Harry nodded. "Voldemort has regained his strength."

"Ah, not merely that," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head sadly. "He's gathering an army."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "An army?"

The Headmaster nodded. "He called all of his Dark creatures last night. He called the werewolves, the hags, and the Vampires. It took a great deal of Dark power, which is why you felt so much pain."

Harry's eyes widened. "But-"

Dumbledore nodded. "Mr. Malfoy felt the call. It's very strong magic, almost like the Imperius curse. He's in the dungeons with Professor Lupin. It was an amazing show of strength that he managed to bring you up here."

"Is- is he okay?" Harry asked tentatively. He could see Ron scowling out of the corner of his eye. "And, Remus? He's alright, isn't he?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I'm afraid neither of them are. Both have a terrible struggle ahead. Professor Lupin survived the call once before; many, many years ago. So Mr. Malfoy will have someone to guide him. But..." the Headmaster trailed off, giving Harry a concerned look.

"Eventually he'll either have to heed to the call, or break himself free from it. Either choice could be disastrous," he paused, then placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'll leave you with your friends. You may visit Mr. Malfoy later if you wish."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

As soon as Dumbledore closed the door behind him, Hermione gave a loud sob and flung herself onto Harry.

"I was so- wo-wo-worried," she cried, her voice muffled by his chest. Harry stroked her bushy hair and raised his eyes to meet Ron's. Then he wished he hadn't.

There was so much pain there. So much anger and jealousy.

"A Vampire?" Ron asked quietly. "You've been ditching us to hang out with a Vampire? And it's Malfoy?" His voice rose in pitch as he spoke.

Harry glared at him.

"Look Ron. You don't understand. He's different now. He's--"

"A God damned, blood drinking creature of the night?" Ron suggested helpfully.

Harry shot him a dirty look.

"Back off Ron. He's my-" he paused, for a moment.

"Friend," Hermione finished for him, moving to sit at the foot of the bed.

Ron looked at her in annoyance. "I can't believe you're supporting this. Do you remember what he used to be? A malicious, conniving, Slytherin bastard who spent his days tormenting all of us! And now it's worse- he's a Dark creature. How can you trust him?"

"Ron, you don't understand. You don't know him. He's... different now. I can't explain it." He leant forward. "I need you to trust me on this. Please."

Ron paused then shook his head. "No! I can't! I can't stand by and watch you do this! You trust too easily." He stalked to the door, then turned around, meeting Harry's eyes.

"You'll get hurt, Harry. Don't come running to me when you do."

He slammed the door behind him.

Harry turned to Hermione.

"He'll come around," she said. "He always does."

Harry wasn't so sure.

***

Draco was glaring at the stone walls. They appeared to be there purely to torture him. Blocking his way. Stopping him from getting to his master. Must get to the Dark Lord. Must get to the Dark Lord. Must get to...

Harry.

Draco's mind cleared. It was becoming harder and harder to fight the call. Deep inside, though, he could still think clearly and he wanted to see if Harry was alright. He'd been...scared. He'd never seen someone in so much pain before. And he'd been shocked by his own reaction. Only a year ago he would have laughed if he'd found Harry crying in pain. His stomach twisted at the thought. It was funny- he'd become a creature of 'evil' yet he'd developed compassion for the last person he'd ever thought he'd feel compassion for.

Strange.

Speaking of strange...he looked over to where Professor Lupin was lying on an old wrought iron bed. The werewolf was staring up at the ceiling. Draco sat down on the floor, cross-legged, so their heads were level.

"What are you doin'?" he asked.

Lupin ignored him.

Draco smiled annoyingly. "What are you doin'?" he repeated, loudly.

Lupin sighed.

"I'm counting the hex marks on the ceiling. It helps to keep your mind occupied."

Draco sighed. "This is so boring," he complained.

Lupin smiled. "Good. It'll help you learn patience."

"It's not going to get better, is it?" Draco asked suddenly.

Lupin shrugged. "You won't know until you choose."

Draco frowned. "Choose what?"

"Whether to take the easy route and follow the call- and have the pain ease, or to fight it and eventually break free. It's a tough choice."

"Is it?"

"It's the choice between good and evil. It's always a tough choice."

"Oh," Draco replied, thinking for a moment. He wanted the pain to end so badly, for the mystical pull to stop. Then he thought of Harry. His first friend.

He smiled suddenly.

"I've already chosen," he said.