For the Want of a Nail

I wanted a perfect ending. A clean cut. Now I've learned, the hard way, that the poems don't rhyme. Our stories don't have a clear beginning, a middle, and an end.

Perhaps I was a fool. I should've been smarter than to think that fate would leave me alone so easily. I should've known I couldn't get away with my sins without receiving a punishment. But I was ignorant enough to believe that I could make my own destiny.

In the end, my only sin was to die before I had truly lived.

"Mr Malfoy, we're about to close."

I sneer at the gray-haired woman at the counter. "Yes, Madame Malkin." I state coldly, reminding her that the money I have just spent here is well worth her overtime. I hand her the latest of the robes I've tried on and put on my cloak. "Would you be so kind as to send the clothes to Malfoy Mansion when they are ready?" I stalk out through the door without waiting for an answer.

Every other shop in Diagon Alley has already closed. I wrap my cloak tighter around me in the cold winter night and head for the Leaky Cauldron. Damn Madame Malkin for keeping her shop on the other side of town. And damn Mother for not giving birth to me six months earlier so that I could have an apparating license by now. I curse out loud as I head down the dark street in a hurry to get home.

The gray dust of sunset lays upon the town of Diagon Alley. The winter has silenced the streets and the buildings surrounding them. All living noise has disappeared, and all I can hear is my own ragged breathing as I make my way towards the Leaky Cauldron. In spite of the freezing weather I can not help but marvel at the beauty of this white season. This dry, cold time of the year that suffocates all of nature, only to give it a new breath of life.

My breath wheezes, and in the northern wind and lightly falling snow I feel entirely out of place. I stagger past the lake, its water black and ignorant, the stars reflected on its surface looking like worn-out light bulbs. For a moment I stop to wonder if it weren't easier for me just to wade out into the lake's welcoming darkness.

As I walk past the deep black lake and frozen lawns, I go over the events of my life. The twists of fate that have brought me here. I am turning seventeen in June. That means I have five months before I am to be initiated to Voldemort. Five months before I am to become a Death Eater. Five months before ickle Draco Malfoy takes the final step in following his father's footsteps.

Five months before I die.

My thoughts come to an abrupt stop as I from the corner of my eye see a dark figure moving beside me, a dull swooshing sound echoing in the quiet night. I turn around gasping, only to find the street totally abandoned. All of the streetlights are lit, there is no place for anyone to hide. I consider the possibilities of different dark creatures that could hide in the night, slowly pulling my wand out of my pocket.

I chuckle nervously, regretting it the moment the sound escapes my lips. The high pitched laugh echoes in the empty street, seeming to hit every wall, every light pole, every frozen alleyway before disappearing down the street, leaving the air screaming with silence.

Turning back around and continuing my way home, I breathe slowly and fight to walk at a normal speed with steady steps. I laugh silently at myself, what exactly am I afraid of? Who would want to hurt little me?

...Well, don't want to answer that question, now do we?

But no matter how my voice of reason fights for control, I can only hear the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I shiver as I take a look at my surroundings with a frightened glance. The brightness of the lit street makes the darkness around it even more tangible. Who knows what could be hiding in those murky alleyways?

I increase my speed of walking a little, but refuse to give in to my ridiculous paranoia enough to start running. The noisy tap of my shoes against the iced street seems much too loud, yet reason tells me that if my steps can be heard this well, then I can hear anyone approaching me within a mile's distance. The thought calms me down enough for me to slow down my steps, letting my breathing return to normal.

My fatal mistake, it seems.

I barely have time to register something moving towards me before I crash brutally into an alleyway, landing on cold hard concrete. I open my eyes, closed at the impact, only to find my mysterious attacker gone, and my wand disappeared. I manage to find my feet, and take a few staggering steps backwards towards the wall I know is behind me.

But instead of a wall, I suddenly find myself pressed to a human body. The scream escaping me is trapped by a cold pale hand covering my mouth, while I feel a strong arm sneaking around my chest and pulling me towards my attacker.

I struggle to break free, but the person, a man, is much too strong. Suddenly he shifts our positions so that he has me trapped between him and the wall behind me, pressing his hand to my mouth to prevent me from screaming.

This man, I find, is exceptionally handsome. Even in my panicked state of mind I cannot help but to admire the man before me. He is about three inches or so taller than me, and his slim frame doesn't seem to mach the raw strength he obviously possesses. His hair, long and silky, glows like flames in the light of the full moon. His eyes, almond shaped and decorated with pale lashes, stare back at me with the colour of oak, of beer, of dark, dark gold.

The pale man presses one of his thighs between my legs, efficiently trapping me, leering hollowly. I shudder as I am pressed further against the cold brick wall. What does this man want from me? He is obviously not a Death Eater. Perhaps I could rate him as a rapist or something, but he hasn't even got a wand! Who rapes an armed wizard in the middle of freakin' Diagon Alley without a wand?!

"Well, well. Aren't you quite a pretty one?" he mumbles, letting go of my mouth to run his palm along my throat, seemingly addressing my neck instead of me. My mouth now released, I would scream if it weren't for the cool hand pressed to my throat, sending shivers down my body and silencing my vocal chords. Instead, I try to look around to see if I might spot my missing wand.

The man chuckles throatily, an unnatural sound echoing in the darkness. The hand that has been caressing my throat moves south to my collarbone, cold fingers slowly tapping their way back up again while the man softly whispers:

"Eeny, meeny, miny moe

Catch the tiger by its toe..."

A finger stops abruptly just below my pulse point, and the man's chest heaves slowly, as if he's taking in an expectant breath of air. Realisation dawns on me. This is no ordinary man.

My eyes dart to those pale lips just to see them parting into a sneer, exposing a set of shiny white teeth. I narrow my eyes, looking for confrontation in the man's face. But I get no reaction; his grin merely grows wider as he leans closer to me, and I instinctively press myself further against the wall, desperately trying to escape.

The man's nostrils flare as he turns my face to the side and leans gloser to my throat. I imagine I can see his teeth flash in the dark briefly before his face disappears from my zone of vision. But I have no time to think about that. Because suddenly I feel a sharp, hot, stingy pain on my neck.

I gasp like a drowning man as I feel violent shivers go through my body. Panic taking over, I writhe to break free from the man's, the vampire's, grip. I feel him tighten his hold on me, his teeth sinking deeper into my neck. The bite stings and burns violently, in deep contrast to the cool body I am pressed up against. I struggle to get away from that ache, to get away from that burn... To get closer.

All reasonable thoughts seem to escape me. I shudder violently as all the blood from the rest of my body is drawn towards my throat in a wave of immense pleasure stinged with pain. My body feels hot and my legs go weak. I cling desperately to the wall, to the vampire's coat, to anything that will hold me upright, keep me here. Digging my fingers into the vampire's shoulders to keep myself standing, I moan loudly as I suddenly become aware that I am impossibly aroused.

The vampire lets his grip on me ease somewhat, but without his strong arm holding me upright my legs give way and I falter against the brick wall. Startled by my sudden movement the vampire lifts his head from my throat and grabs the front of my jacket to keep me standing. I hear myself moaning at the loss of contact, and turn my head to look at the man who is currently staring at me.

His eyes are a piercing shade of gold, deep like the abyss. His mouth, though, is what draws me in. His formerly pale lips are now tainted with red, and as he sneers slightly I see the bloody fangs his corner teeth have become. Blood. My blood.

I hear someone laughing, and it takes a moment for me to realise it is me. The the vampire arches a pale eyebrow and stares at me as if I were completely off my rocker. I probably am. I stiffle my laughter and smile at him drunkenly, trying to find the words to elaborate my behaviour. Why I think I should do that, I have no idea.

"I'm sorry." I chuckle, blinking slowly. "It's just that well, here I go, thinking about drowning myself in that lake over there. And the next thing I know, I'm getting killed by a vampire!" I laugh dumbly.

As the vampire just continues to stare at me with a blank expression on his face, occasionally letting the tip of his tongue grace his bloody fangs. I meet his gaze and smile my last wicked smile, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the wall.

"Well?" I murmur, grinning as I hear the man's sharp intake of breath upon the revealing of my bloody throat. "Isn't this what you came for? Take it."

I barely have time to finish the sentence before teeth sink into my neck once again, and I groan loudly as the vampire presses his body against mine. I feel my eyes grow dim, from the pleasure or the lack of blood, I do not know. Face turned up towards the dark night sky, I smile to myself. As my sight grows black, there is only one thought on my mind.