Hey, guys. This story was inspired by the lunar eclipse I had the privilege of watching with my friends. It was truly beautiful. While I was watching it, I was in awe by the red color. Red made me think of blood, which made me think vampire, and next thing I know I was thinking Drarry. I really hope you enjoy it. Shout out to my good friend, LittleNightDragon, for helping me with the story.

Alluring Crimson

Red

He saw it, just a smudge, hanging by the corner of the moon. Practically taunting him.

It wasn't like he meant to seek it out. On the contrary, he was more than willing to forget about it. Fate, on the other hand, decided to work against him.

His head had been buried in his Charms book for hours now, trying to gather enough information for his fifteen-page paper he had yet to start. His neck was so stiff; he didn't just feel a kink. He felt a heavy weight placed on him, bending him in an uncomfortable position. The words blurred into strings of symbols that were hard to understand. His mind was slipping away to ventures unknown. That was when he realized he needed to take a break.

He leaned back for only a moment, stretching out his sore muscles that were tight and stiff like a doll, wincing at the sound of bones cracking. In the midst of stretching out his neck, massaging the tight kinks, his eyes glanced over from the stack of books in front of him to the window beside him.

The sky a lovely shade of blackish-blue with very few clouds with the moon set its rightful place at the center, in its' full form, shining so brightly like a silvery-white eye. With streams of red creeping in-

Wait. What?!

He would have fallen flat on his arse if his hands didn't quickly reach for the table, preventing a horrible and painful fall from happening.

Stunned, his eyes shot back to the moon.

No, he wasn't dreaming. His sore limbs held enough pain to alert him he was still awake. He was actually seeing red.

By the corners, starting out as small specks, growing in length as they reached for another one, washing over the silvery-white like streaks of wet paint on a canvas.

"Harry?" Hermione placed a hand over his, bringing him back to the present. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"You look like you've seen a ghost or something." Ron added.

Definitely something. "I…" He glanced over at the window.

The moon was back its itself, shining a bright silvery-white without a single trace of red.

"Nothing," he croaked, hoping his voice was the opposite of how he was feeling: confused and defeated, as though he lost a fight. "Nothing at all."

Ron shrugged and went back to his homework. Or rather went back to using his textbooks for pillows to continue on with his nap. Hermione, though, didn't let him off the hook so easily, paying close attention.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked.

It would have been too easy to assure her he was fine; that he was simply tired and his mind wandered off for a moment. He saw the determination in her eyes and knew saying "just fine" wouldn't cut it with her. She wanted a straight answer.

Maybe I should ask her, he thought. It was a harmless question after all. Plus, it would help him know if something weird was going on or if he was just seeing things.

"Do you see the moon?"

"The moon?" She arched her left brow. Her questioning look melted into a smile as she looked to it. "It truly is beautiful."

"Does it..." How the hell was he suppose to say this? "Look reddish to you?"

"Reddish?" Hermione tore her eyes away from the moon to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I-"

"Are you talking about the lunar eclipse?"

Maybe that was it. The idea had crossed his mind more than once. "Possibly."

Hermione relaxed, looking quite proud to have come up with an answer. "According to the astrologists, it's not set to come for another thirty years. I hope I'll be able to see it. My mom said it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen."

Thirty years? Harry's heart sank. "Is there a chance that it could come early?"

Now Hermione really looked worried for him. "Not that I recall," she frowned, peering closely at him as if he were a book. "Are you sure you're okay?"

If there was any doubt he wasn't losing it, the hope died as soon as Hermione said "thirty years." Now he knew it was him. Only problem was he wasn't sure what exactly was wrong. Either his eyesight was worse than he thought or his mind was beginning to lose sense of reality.

"Maybe I'm just tired."

"I don't blame you, mate," Ron said. "The library has that same affect on me."

"Maybe if you paid better attention to your assignments, you wouldn't be dozing off."

"It's not my fault I get so tired when I'm in there. Look around," He waved a hand over at the students hunched over their books, quills in hands, papers spread out. "I've been to funerals livelier than this."

Hermione, who loved the library the way most girls loved shoe-stores, took great offense to Ron's comment. She grabbed hold of her heavy Potions book and swung it so hard against her boyfriend's arm that he nearly fell out of his seat. As the two got into yet another argument, Ron claiming Hermione was trying to make him lose an arm, Hermione scolding him for not appreciating all that the library had to offer, Harry used the moment as the perfect opportunity to slip away.

He had seen sitting in that hard chair since noon. It was already past nine. He needed to stretch his legs.

Nodding and waving to familiar faces he passed, Harry strolled around the library, soon finding himself upstairs. Hidden behind the Creature section, eyes skimming past the titles.

Since he had been back to Hogwarts, three things have been in his mind.

First there was Voldemort. After his eventful appearance at the Ministry, the wizarding world finally accepted the truth that he was back. Since then everyone from the High Minister to Harry himself have been on high alert, anxiously waiting for his next move, bracing themselves for something undoubtedly terrible.

Second there was the…whatever it was he was seeing.

It started on the night of his sixeenth birthday. He was tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep, seeing himself running with a mysterious figure behind him. Hidden well enough to conceal his identity, close enough for his cool breath to kiss the back of Harry's neck, sending chills up his spine. Just as he was about to gather his courage to turn around, his eyes snapped open, breaking him free from the dream's hold.

Moonlight spilled from his window, drawing his attention to the sky. It was surprising to see it was full, but it wasn't an unpleasant one. He pulled himself out of bed and walked over to his window, staring at the moon, enthralled by its simple beauty. How long he stayed there, he had no idea.

He did know he stayed long enough for him to see red.

At first he was sure it was just shadows. He simply saw a flash of color by the bottom left corner. A color he realized that looked little like black and more like crimson the longer he stared at it. A color that appeared on the opposite side, then on the top, and then the opposite side. All four corners in crimson red. Then the color began to grow, pouring at the bottom, slowly filling its way up.

Before the moon could complete its' transformation, Harry blinked once, stunned by what he was seeing. He looked up. The color was gone; the moon was back to normal. Not only normal but the same, as if there wasn't any red to begin with.

The next morning, determined to get to the bottom of things, he asked his aunt over breakfast if she noticed the strange full moon, too, last night.

"What are you talking about, boy?"

"You mean you didn't see the full moon?"

His aunt bristled, scowling at him. "I saw the moon, but it wasn't even half. Much less full."

He was glad he didn't ask her about the color. The first question already had her scowling (even more than usual) at him. That question was bound to have him labeled as insane.

Needing more than his aunt's word, Harry searched up the astrology at the library's computer. More than several websites confirmed that the moon last night was a waxing crescent, not a full one. And not a single one mentioned it having an unusual color. Not even the wizarding news mentioned anything about it.

Maybe it was just a dream, he told himself. After all, he was tired.

Deeming the matter as that, Harry shoved the idea of strange moons and colors to the back of his mind, determined to forget about it. And for the rest of the summer he succeeded, focused on catching on with his friends, meeting with Remus to move past their shared grief over Sirus' death, catching up with the wizarding news to await anything regarding Voldemort. Until he walked back to the castle with Luna after she helped him out of the mess Malfoy gotten him into on the train and looked up at the sky.

Crimson spilled at the bottom of the moon, slowly making its way up.

"Harry?" Luna had asked. "Are you alright?"

"I…" he croaked. "Do you see this?"

"The moon?" Luna smiled, titling her head back. "It's peaceful, isn't it?"

Peaceful wasn't the word Harry would have used, not when his body trembled, his knees buckling, as he watched the crimson pour in.

"You see it, too? The red?"

Before that day, he never seen Luna look so puzzled but she did as she looked to him, her smile vanishing, concern shining in her eyes.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

His heart sank, then completely plummeted when he looked back and saw that the crimson melted away, leaving the moon as it was.

Luna was usually able to see things others couldn't. So if she didn't see the moon change…

He didn't allow himself to finish the thought. Not then and not now. But just because he didn't want to think about didn't mean that his mind agreed with him.

It only wanted him to remember. It wanted him to question. It didn't want him to forget about the moon.

Against his better judgement, questions filled his head. Why was he the only one who could see the red moon? Was he was actually seeing it or his mind playing tricks on him? Did it have a connection to Voldermort? Could he be making him see it?

It seemed the probable cause. It wouldn't be the first time the Dark Lord played with his head. But making him see colors? On the moon? It made no sense.

"You are aware you have to actually open the book to learn something, right?"

Harry was so lost in his thoughts, he nearly jumped at the sound of the familiar voice. Even though he didn't make the full jump, a snicker still happened.

He turned around, meeting the one person who was the bridge between the two, the strange moon and Voldermort.

"Malfoy." Harry scowled.

"Potter." The prat smirked in reply.

Since they came back to school, Harry kept a close eye on his rival, tracking his movements with the map, following him during the night and always seeming to lost him at the very last minute whenever he made a turn. He knew the elder Malfoy was already entangled with the Dark Lord. However suspicion fell on the Malfoy heir himself when Harry saw him, along with his mother, entering that strange shop in Knockout Alley where it looked to be conducting some sort of initiation.

And then when they were alone on the train, Malfoy cornered him. Well, not really cornered but had him bounded and powerless, unable to do anything but muster all the hatred he had for the boy into his glare.

He braced himself for some kind of blow, a punch or a hex. To be hit with accusations that he was reason Lucius was in prison.

Malfoy, though, surprised him. He smirked as he leaned towards Harry, his gaze shifting from Harry to the sky, an odd look dancing across his eyes as he tilted his head.

"Such a beautiful night, wouldn't you say, Potter?" he drawled. "I've always found the full moon to be quite breathtaking."

Harry's eyes shot to the window, where he saw only a glimpse of the moon.

His train of thought came to a mind as a pale, slender hand twined itself around his neck, shocking him with its cold touch.

The smirk on the boy's smile widened as his gaze turned back to Harry, curled with a taunting bite, as if he knew something that put him ahead of the game.

"Soon." The word wasn't a threat. It was a promise. Of what, Harry had no idea.

Harry shivered, remembering the confrontation. The heavy promise of Malfoy's word. The firm but not suffocating grasp Malfoy had on his neck. The touch of his hand that shocked Harry like a thousand bolts going off at once. How he himself shivered-or would have shivered if he wasn't frozen-when Malfoy leaned close to him, overwhelming him with his presence, his cool breath kissing his face.

It was too much of a coincidence that half an hour later, after Luna freed him from the binding spell and the two left the train, that he saw crimson red streaking across the moon.

It couldn't be, he thought, bewildered. His mind went back to the conversation at the train. Of what Malfoy said to him.

"I've always found the full moon to be quite breathtaking."

He thought back to the strange look in his eyes as he looked up at the sky, almost like…he was seeing something more. Could it be-

No, he refused to finish the thought. There was no way Malfoy had seen. If Luna couldn't see it, there was no way Malfoy could.

And yet, a part of him refused to let the idea die, planting it in the center of his mind, allowing it to flourish and grow into a theory. One he went over time and time again.

Almost as if he could read his thoughts, Malfoy smirked, looking too pleased with himself.

"Something on your mind, Potter?"

Heat flared in his chest, despite himself, which infuriated him as much as Malfoy's smirk if not more.

"Shove off, Malfoy." Harry sneered, shoving his rival out of his way. He kept his eyes forward, determined not to look out the window.

His heart was pounding with every step he took forward. Towards the bright moon that called to him, stirring a fire deep in his core.

Making his way through the maze of trees, he sucked in a sharp breath as he took one more step forward, entering his destination.

A small clearing in the middle of the forest.

Breathing heavy, he walked slowly towards the center, glancing around and finding nothing but trees. His eyes gazed up at the sky. The crimson moon stared down at him.

His next breath got caught in his throat as he felt a strong presence behind him, pressing their hard body against him. The caught breath was released, escaping from his lips in a strangled hiss, as a hand crept up his back, searing him through the thin material of his clothes, and placed itself against his neck. A finger almost lazily brushed against his neck, traveling up to the back of his ear to his collarbone, making breathing all the more harder for Harry who struggled to keep himself together.

"A beautiful moon, is it not?"

The moon? He was talking about the red moon?

"You…you can see it?"

His body froze as a pair of cool lips brushed against his neck, passing through the exact spot where his pulse flared.

"Of course I can see it. But that is not important," The stranger's other arm entwined around Harry's waist, bringing him closer, his face practically buried in Harry's neck. It surprised Harry how easily he gave into the stranger's demands without putting on a fight. The stranger seemed pleased, rewarding him with another kiss, placed deliberately on his sensitive spot, causing Harry's next breath to come out as a strangled whimper. "What's important is that you can see it." This time the kiss was longer, one that was produced into another, then another. "And that I can finally do what I've been waiting to do since I first saw you."

Since he first saw him? There was something strange about this, something off. Why he felt so cold wrapped in the stranger's embrace? Why the person's voice was so familiar? More importantly, why wasn't he scared?

"What did you want to do?"

Instead of lips, Harry felt a tongue, a cool tongue brushing the nape of his neck, moving purposely and agonizingly slow, increasing the sudden-rapid speed of his pulse while his knees buckled.

"Claim you as mine."

Sharp teeth penetrated into his neck.

Harry awaked with a start, eyes wide and wild, heart pounding what felt to be fifty beats a second. It took nearly forever for his breathing to go back to normal, needing to take in multiple breaths to control himself.

After one last breath, he ran a hand over his weary face. His eyes trailed over to the window. He thought about it for a second or two before he pulled himself out of his bed and walked over to it.

He didn't see specks or streaks of red invading the moon. This time he saw crimson covering every inch, swallowing up the former color.

Bewilderment held him by the neck in a tight grip.

Come to me, it whispered.

Harry was caught between two sides. The rational, Hermione-influenced side that warned him he could be walking into a trap. Then the other side, one that choose action over thought that was desperate to find an answer.

Come to me.

Against every instinct telling him to stay, against every rational thought screaming in protest, Harry found himself reaching for his slippers and wand. He cast one look at his roommates who were snoring away, lost in dreamland, before he snuck out the room.

The moment he stepped outside, the icy autumn wind pierced through his clothes like a knife, chilling almost every nerve in his body. Cursing himself for not bringing a jacket, he ventured into the forest.

Though this wasn't the first time he entered the Forbidden Forest, it didn't mean that he was an expert in navigating it. He was convinced that the forest wasn't truly a forest but a maze. One that changed itself each time he came in, inserting more trees and paths to confuse the person, setting them off in different directions. Yet somehow Harry's feet knew where to go, turning left then right, ducking through branches that blocked his path.

He kept walking and walking, eyes trained on the moon that was a deep shade of bloodied red until he came across a clearing.

It was like his dream, featuring the same setting. And yet…

A pang of disappointment shot through his chest.

He didn't know what he expected to find, but knew as soon as he came into the clearing that it wasn't there.

Once again, Harry was right back where he started: him with a bloodied moon and no witness to it, making him question his sanity.

Maybe I am going crazy, he thought. It was the only explanation. His aunt said there was no full moon when he first saw it. Hermione didn't see it. Luna couldn't see it. It could be that school was getting to him. Or just another one of Voldemort's tricks. Or even Malfoy's. After all the prat made a point to comment about the moon, and there was that strange look in his eyes when he looked at Harry.

Could it be?

"Why so tense, Potter?"

He looked up, startled.

It was just like fourth year all over again. Malfoy perched on a high tree branch, peering down at Harry with dark amusement dancing in his eyes, his lips fixed into a taunting smirk.

"Malfoy?"

"Why so tense?" he repeated. "Nightmares keeping you up? Or perhaps a wet dream caused you to soil yourself?" A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes.

Anger flashed in Harry's eyes, which caused Malfoy's smirk to grow. "Piss off, Malfoy."

"Or maybe," Ignoring Harry, he continued on with his guessing game. "You're here to see the pretty moon. I've always found it to be breathtaking, especially when it's in its full form."

Harry paused, stunned. It was similar to what he said to him on the train.

"And the color," he purred, looking up at the moon. "I think the crimson red enhances its beauty. Wouldn't you agree?"

Shock slammed against Harry like a brick wall, almost knocking him off his feet. He managed-barely-to keep himself steady, though his jaw practically kissed the ground.

"You…you….you can see it, too?"

Malfoy slowly took his gaze off the moon and returned it to Harry. He smirked with ease as he leaned against the tree. "Humor me, Potter. In the muggle world, what does it mean when the red moon appears?"

It dawned to Harry that he was still staring at Malfoy, surprised by the intensity glowing in those mystic grays. He blinked and shook his head. "It's-its's called…" Dear Merlin, what was wrong with him. "It's called the lunar eclipse. It…" Hermione told him facts about the red moon. Hell, she even lend him books-thick books, mind you-about it. Yet, it was a struggle to remember. Something to do with time? "It marks a change in time, I think? A beginning and an end."

Malfoy's lips were slanted into a pout, as if he were disappointed. The only thing shattering the seemingly perfect illusion was the dark laughter roaring in his eyes.

"How utterly disappointing," he said. "Not to mention completely unoriginal. You'd think with their obsession with the supernatural, they could at least be more creative."

Harry wished he could explain the shivers dancing and jumping across his skin. It could be blamed on the cold but he knew the weather had nothing to do with it.

Malfoy took one step forward and was down on the ground in an instant, his eyes still locked with Harry's. They were no longer laughing but were still bright.

"Do you know what it means in the wizarding world when ones sees the red moon?"

He already knew the answer; Harry could tell by the gleam in his eyes. Malfoy only wanted him to say it.

It took him close to a minute to answer. "No."

"Disappointing," Malfoy said. "yet not exactly surprising. Very few people know about the crimson moon."

The crimson moon? "What do you-"

"You obviously know about the full moon and the effects it has on werewolves. I'm sure you experienced the effects firsthand with the former Professor Lupin. Its' sister, on the other hand, is not widely known."

Harry was armed and ready to fire at him for comment about Remus until the rest of the words began to sink in. "Its sister?"

Malfoy gestured towards the sky. "The crimson moon. She's not well-known since only a few are able to see her. However she does possess the same power as her brother."

"Who are they?" Harry demanded. "The ones who can see her? What power are you talking about?"

"The same power it has on werewolves, only it affects a different type of creature. One whose powers are just as powerful and are heightened when the crimson moon appears. Strength, speed, allure." Malfoy purred.

"Other creatures?" What other creature was as powerful as a werewolf? Something already gifted with strength and speed that rivals theirs? Gifted in allure?

The answer slammed into Harry like a stupefy hex.

"Other creatures?" he croaked, his throat suddenly dry. "You mean-"

A flash sparked in the boy's eyes, turning misty gray into vivid silver. Malfoy smiled, baring his sharp fangs, causing Harry's heart to skip several beats before it dropped straight to his stomach.

Harry knew Malfoy was up to something. He never would have suspected-not in a million years-something like this.

Malfoy relished in Harry's fear. He took one step forward. Harry took two steps back, hand wrapped around his wand.

"And the crimson moon doesn't only call to vampires, Potter. It also calls to their other half. The person who is their opposite but equal in every way. The one meant to be by their side forever."

Harry's blood went cold.

"The vampire's mate."

This time Harry didn't stick around for questions. He ran. He would have made it further than the other side of the clearing if Malfoy wasn't suddenly behind him, grabbing him by the neck and pushing him towards a tree, knocking the wind out of him.

Before he could blink, Malfoy was right in front him, standing too close to him, smirking.

"You should know," he purred. "The more you run, the more I want."

Harry tried to break free, but Malfoy wouldn't hear of it, refusing to let him go.

"I have to say, Potter, I wasn't sure. I thought what happened on the train was only a fluke."

So he did see it.

"Then I saw you at the library, looking up at the sky, even though you tried to fight against it. I could smell the fear and interest rolling off you. It confirmed what I always knew," He leaned in closer. "That you are mine."

"No," Harry insisted. "It's not possible. There has to be a mistake. You hate me. You-"

Malfoy cut him off. Not with words, hits, or spells but by his hand. His hand that had loosened its grip on his neck, dropping down to his collarbone, using his fingers to brush against Harry's skin. His fingers were so cold, colder than the late autumn night, but his touch was so gentle.

More gentle than anything Harry ever felt.

"I never hated you, Potter. I will admit there were times I did resent you. The rejected hand being one, which I'll be sure to punish you for. The times you humiliated me in classes and Quidditch. For driving me insane with your wit, your too-bright green eyes, your beauty. I resented you for quite some time until I saw that pink toad bitch strike you and I wanted to rip her throat out."

Harry swallowed, all too aware of the intensity-the hunger-gleaming in Draco's eyes as they studied his neck. Draco leaned in, using his nose to draw a line against the column of his neck, causing Harry's heartbeat to race.

"You smell divine, Potter," Malfoy said. "Your scent is as delicious as your fear."

"No," Harry murmured. It was as if his mind was trekking through a fog, a fog growing more thick the more Malfoy leaned in, weakening his focus and control. "You…me…" He shivered as he felt another line being drawn against his neck, only this time with a pair of lips, moving painfully slow. He shook his head to clear his mind. "You hate me. I hate you. We'd never work out."

"I think I already made it clear that I don't hate you. As for you hating me?" He chuckled as he pressed himself against Harry. "I don't believe that any more than you telling me that this," His hand snaked down to his pants, gripping his cock that was to his amazement hard, causing a gasp to slip from Harry's lips. "doesn't turn you on."

"It-it doesn't." Harry insisted, struggling to keep his breathing even.

"Liar," Malfoy chuckled again, replacing his hand with his own cock, which was just as aroused and hard, grinding it ever so slowly, causing several long drawn-out moans to spill. "In fact, Potter, I don't think you hate me at all. I think you feel something for me. Want me even."

Harry struggled to keep himself in the present, to stay strong and not give in. "No, you're wrong." This had to be some sort of trick; some sort of vampire compulsion Malfoy was using on him. What else could explain why he was feeling so confused. So-

Malfoy pulled back slightly but not completely. He was close enough that his cold breath danced across Harry's face.

"Destiny is never wrong, pet."

Malfoy stole Harry's next breath with a kiss. A kiss that was as powerful as his strength, shocking as a Crucio, yet at the same time stunning as the wind, chilling you to the core but reminding you were alive to feel it.

Harry didn't bother fighting him off. He didn't try to push him away. He allowed himself to give in, to fall. To fall under the spell of the kiss, the shocks of pleasure that electrified every cell in his body, under the sharp taste of Draco's mouth that was a mix of dark chocolate and cherries and something entirely him.

The moment he gave in, Draco growled and the kiss changed almost immediately. Draco didn't just kiss him. He devoured him, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other arm wrapped around his waist brought him closer even though they were as close as they could be, tracing and marking every inch of Harry's mouth with his luxurious tongue.

Harry pulled back to catch his breath. Draco didn't let the momentary separation faze him, transferring his searing-cold lips onto his neck he made sure to lick and nibble, causing Harry to fall into him, moans and whimpers falling from his lips.

"Dra…Draco." he moaned, titling his head back to allow him more access. Draco cradled his head tenderly while he peppered his neck with more kisses. He ran his tongue over his sensitive spot.

Just when Harry was sure he was going under, Draco pulled away. Harry opened his eyes, bewildered.

Draco smirked at him. A heartbeat later, in flashes of white, Harry found himself sprawled across the ground like some kind of virginal sacrifice with a smirking blond towered over him, straddling his hips.

Before a question could be asked, a breath could be taken, Draco silenced him again with his another kiss that produced into another, then another, making him forget about insignificant things like the cold or time. He kissed Harry passionately but precisely, making him cry out for more. Then when his lungs needed air and he had to pull back, Draco's kisses were imprinted onto his neck, licking and nibbling and sucking, making sure not one spot was untouched.

"Draco," Harry moaned, gripping him tightly. "Oh god."

After one last kiss, Draco eased back slightly. He grabbed a fistful of Harry's shirt and tore it apart, causing buttons to fly.

Harry gasped as the cold pierced his bare skin, then gasped again when Draco peppered his chest with kisses, teasing him with his lips and slow touches. He latched his mouth onto a hardened nipple, sucking and nibbling, while he stroked the other, driving Harry to the brink of insanity with the pleasure he was giving him.

Harry's hands gripped onto the ground, grabbing soil and pebbles, as moans and whimpers tumbled from his lips.

As soon as Draco was done tormenting his nipples, he continued his downward exploration of his body, kissing Harry over and over again, lower and lower until he was face-to-face with Harry's crotch.

Draco looked up and made sure their eyes were locked as he pushed back Harry's pants and boxers, tossing them carelessly aside. Then, without hesitation, he swallowed his entire length.

"Fuck!" Harry nearly screamed.

He thought there was nothing better than Draco's kissing him but this? This warmth, this pleasure? Harry knew that it was only the beginning.

He arched into Draco, wanting more, but his wishes were denied. Draco gripped tightly onto his thrusting hips, keeping him in place, as he sucked hard, driving Harry absolutely mad, while his tongue teased him. The sweet torture intensified as he felt something-a finger-slip inside him, into his hole, causing him grunt and squirm as it searched, until Malfoy's finger found the spot that made him see stars.

"FUCK!" he called out. One hand was still gripping onto the ground. The other was placed on the back of Draco's head, burying itself deep within the platinum blonde locks. He tightened his grip as a second finger was added into the mix. "Draco!"

As soon as Draco crossed those fingers together, digging deep inside him, going at a speeding rate as they scissored him, Harry nearly lost it then. Head thrown back, back arched, howling into the night.

"Oh…I-s-so-good," he whimpered. "More! Please. I need more."

He could feel those teasing lips smirk against his skin as they continued with their torture.

"Draco, please," He was begging. More than begging; he was pleading. To Malfoy of all people. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care, wanting-no, needing-the pleasure more than anything he ever needed in his life.

Draco released him after one last kiss to his cock and pulled away his fingers, causing Harry to cry out in frustration.

"Harry," he demanded. "I want you to look at me."

He did, opening his eyes and tilting his head up. Harry watched as Draco vanished his clothes with a non-verbal spell.

He watched the boy's pale hands slid down to his legs, spreading them wide, completely exposing him. He paid close attention as Draco lined his cock against his hole.

"Hope you're paying close attention, love."

He was. Harry nodded, trembling. Merlin, he was.

His eyes immediately shut tight as Draco plunged into him, biting down hard on his lip to deal with the pain. Fingers were one thing, but a cock was fuller. Much thicker, and the penetration was more than a sting.

Above him, Draco's grip on his hips tightened, holding so firmly Harry was sure he'd find bruises there in the morning. He could feel the boy's nails planted deep within his skin.

Harry needed a moment to adjust to the burn, breathing in and out slowly, until he finally gave his consent with a slight nod. Ever so patient, Draco eased into him, moving something foreign and deep that turned the alien feeling into blissful pleasure, causing his whimpers to melt into moans.

"Mine," Draco growling, moving him again. Only harder, increasing the volume of Harry's next moan. "You're mine, Potter." He pulled back out completely before slamming into Harry, causing him to eyes to widen from the intensity of the feeling.

There was nothing gentle or slow about Draco's movements. Once he found his rhythm, he pulled out and slammed into him, again and again, thrusting into Harry at an inhuman speed, pushing Harry's body further into the ground. Harry struggled to keep up with Draco's frantic thrusts, trying to match intensity with desperation, needing more friction between them even though he was already drowning in the vast sea of pleasure.

He held onto Draco's shoulders tightly, drawing scratches onto the boy's flawless skin with his nails, moaning loudly. "Draco..."

"You are mine!" Draco growled, gripping tightly onto hips, killing Harry with a series of deep thrusts that hit his prostate each and every time. "Mine, Harry. Mine to have. Mine to love. Mine to fuck. Mine!"

"Dra-Draco. So...fucking-good."

"Say it!" he demanded, "Say you're mine. I want to hear you say it."

"Won't," Harry panted. "Last much...longer. So-close."

"Say it!" He pulled himself completely away before slamming into Harry so far, he nearly took off into the stars, blinded by their brightness. Breathless from the passion.

"Yours!" Harry screamed. "I'm yours."

Draco crashed his lips against his in a brutal, desperate kiss that stole whatever breath he had left in his body before he bit down hard on his neck, breaking his skin, causing blood to flow into his mouth.

Harry gasped, practically screaming, from the sensation. From everything in fact, becoming overwhelmed. The feeling of Draco inside of him, the power of his thrusts, the intense and scorching passion building inside of him like an eruption ready to go, the ecstasy of Draco's bite. It was too much.

When he reached his climax with a desperate scream, cum burst from him, spilling onto his lower stomach and thighs, smearing Draco, who continued to thrust until moments later, he reached his own peak. Throwing his head, he gripped Harry's thighs and came with a scream that sounded more animal than human.

Harry fell onto his back, suddenly boneless, trying to catch his breath.

As his orgasm-blissful mind sank into unconsciousness, he used whatever strength he had left in him to take one last peek.

Draco's eyes burnt like a pair of stars. His usual, perfectly-styled hair was matted. His pale skin was smooth as porcelain, his beauty unbelievably intoxicating. He looked like an angel, a dark angel with the red moon behind him, casting a demonic halo around him, with his mouth stained with blood. Harry's blood.

"Beautiful." The dark angel purred, caressing Harry's cheek.

It was the exact word Harry had in mind for his angel, which popped into his head right before he gave into his weary body's demands.

Red was the first thing he saw when he woke up. Crimson red canopy curtains swaying from the wind's light blow, the same color of the silk bed-sheets his nude body was entangled in.

For a split second, he thought he was back in his room. Until it occurred to him the bed he was lying in was softer than his own, the bed-spread made of finer material. Studying the color, he tried to walk through the fog clouding his mind. The night-sky spread across his mind, featuring an unusual sight. An unusual moon.

An unusual moon…crimson red…crimson…moon…

Like a swift hand kissing the back of his head, the memories reemerged, coming in bits, flashing through his head. Seeing the crimson moon no one could see. Walking into the forest. Malfoy up in the tree, taunting him. Malfoy baring his sharp teeth. Them kissing. Them fucking on the forest ground, underneath the moonlight. Malfoy biting him.

Harry shot up in the bed, placing a hand against his neck. Sure enough, he felt two hole punctured in his skin.

"Something troubling you, pet?"

Harry turned to his right. Draco was next to him, nude from the waist up, a book in his hand he lowered when he noticed he was awake.

He reached over and brushed Harry's hair out from his eyes. Harry shivered from the cold feel of the touch but also from the gentleness of it. Gentle and Draco were two things he thought could never go together.

Except for last night. For only a moment. Before he allowed the being, the vampire, to take control.

"You have questions, Harry," Draco said. "Go ahead. Ask them."

So many questions were piled in his head. Harry decided to start with the basic one. "Last night? It wasn't a dream, was it?"

Draco moved closer to him, lowering the hand that was brushing his hair over to his neck, purposely brushing over the bite marks, letting the gesture serve as his answer.

Harry shivered, though this time it had nothing to do with the cold temperature of the boy's body.

"You said you already knew about it," Harry said. "Have you always been able to see it? The red-" No, that wasn't the name. "The crimson moon?"

Draco drew figure eights over the marks, seemingly oblivious (or quietly relishing) in Harry's shivering. "No, not always. Just recently. On my sixteenth birthday, which I believe also happened with you, yes?"

It did in fact. Only a month after Draco's.

Draco pressed a gentle kiss against the marks, his lips cold as the rest of his body, yet somehow stir a fire simmering in Harry's lower belly, causing goose-bumps to break across his skin. "Vampirism comes from my mother's side of the family. Fifth year, around winter break, is when she told me about the crimson moon. Only two people are able to see the moon's sister. The vampire coming into his or hers inheritance, awakened by the moon's glow, and their mate whose eyes become more open."

"But…" It was getting hard to gather his thoughts and make them into words. His brain was still dazed from last night. Draco wasn't helping either, distracting him with his closeness and kisses. "H-how did you know it was me?"

Draco eased from him just a bit to give him that infamous Malfoy smirk. "Call it vampire instinct."

Cheeky prat.

There must have been a scowl on Harry's face because the smirk on Draco's grew into a snicker. "I've always knew I wanted you, Harry. Even when I resented you. There has always been something between us, a pull that drawn us to one another. You must have felt it."

He did actually, the more he thought about it. Even when Draco infuriated him, even when there were times he was sure he wanted the prat gone, he could never forget about him. He could never just ignore him.

Draco nuzzle his neck, dropping kisses here and there. "I knew I would have you. That eventually we would be together. The crimson moon simply moved things along."

Dear Merlin had things been moved. Harry's hand balled into a fist, gripping onto the sheets, as the memories hit him. Draco pushing him against the tree. Clouding his mind with those intoxicating, soft lips of his. Searing him with kisses and touches that were so cold, they stung. Stripping him of his clothes and taking him in the most brutal, sweetest way.

And the bite. He couldn't forget the bite. That one act heightened everything to an explosive peak.

Just remembering that night made him quiver.

"But Voldermort? Your father-"

"Is a fool who's more than free to be a madman's puppet for all I care. I bow to no one, especially someone who wishes to harm what's mine."

Harry swallowed a hard lump. Draco took that as an invitation to change the kisses into light nibbling.

"I saw you at the shop," he said. "In Knockout Alley. You were in the middle of some kind of ritual."

"Wrong," Draco practically sang. "Look at your hand."

Harry did so, turning slowly, barely holding back a quiet gasp.

On his left hand, gleaming on his finger, was a black and silver dragon-claw ring holding a red gem that was brighter than a ruby, shaped like the full moon.

"It's an heirloom that's been in the family for centuries. Meant for our mates. I had the ring refurbished for you, and added several protections spells to keep you safe in case I'm not by your side."

Mate. He was a mate. He was Draco's mate.

It was shocking how the thought didn't terrify him like it should have.

"Am I dead?" He didn't feel different, but there was the always the chance his body quickly adjusted to the changes while he was out. "Like undead?"

Draco pulled him against him, wrapping his arms around him. Harry didn't fight, leaning against Draco easily. He took his time kissing Harry's neck, dropping slow kisses one by one, followed with a playful nibble and lick in between, causing the boy to melt into him.

"Not yet, love," he whispered. "I do plan to change you but not yet. I still have plans for you. Big plans."

"Draco." His name broke off into a moan as Draco's next nibble came down harder.

"How about I give you a preview of those plans, love?" In a heartbeat, Draco had him pinned underneath him, grinning above him before leaning down for a kiss.

I'm a bit eefy about the ending, so this is where reviews would really help. What did you guys think of the story. It's my first one tackling a vampire Draco. Hope it came out good.