A.N.
Hello again, everyone! Okay, I know I said this was going to be a one-shot, but I just couldn't resist writing another chapter to it! I don't own Harry Potter. The song for this chapter is Hello by Evenescence. Nope, I don't own that either. I would like to thank all my reviewers. You guys are wonderful!
Mireille, you know I love ya! I'll email you soon, and keep working hard in college.
Cherish Aless Treasure, you are a very talented author, and I can't wait to see more of your work.
Draco'sPhoenix16, my very very first reviewer on this story, thank you thank you thank you! You made me want to write another chapter.
((Playground schoolbell rings again,
Rainclouds come to play again,
Has noone told you he's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to,
Hello.))
Tears streamed down Hermione's face as she held Draco's lifeless body in her arms. She had screamed until no screams remained, sobbed until the sobs became wet whistling sounds, and still sobbed until her voice faded in to raw, painfull silence. He was gone, dead, killed by her own stupidity, and now all she had left were the memories, the agony, and this deep dark emptiness. She hadn't meant to kill him, hadn't meant to rob their unborn child of a father, his parents of a son, and herself of the only real love she had ever known.
Draco had come to her when all of life seemed dark and hopeless, and with a kiss, he had made it bright and vivid once again. Draco had always said Hermione had done the same for him, but she never understood how. All she could do was love the boy he had been, the man he was, and the wizard he would be. They had so many plans, so many dreams of a bright future together. Now those dreams were dashed, the bright and endless future extinguished, snuffed out like the flame of a candle.
"Two figures stepped from the shadows, and Hermione froze. She recognized the tall elegant man with the serpentine staff and the curvacious woman who looked as though she had been carved from ice. They were Lucious and Narcissa Malfoy, and now, she was sure they would kill her, sure they must know she had deprived their only son of life.
"Filthy mudblood," Lucius spoke coldly. "Leave him."
"Kill me!" she wanted to shout, but the child within her, Draco's child stilled her tongue. Kissing his lips one last time, Hermione laid him gently on the ground, stood, and ran.
((If I smile and don't believe,
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream,
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken,
Hello, I'm the lie,
Living for you so you can hide, don't cry.))
"She loved him," Narcissa said absently, fingering the silver crescent she wore about her neck. "Our little boy had someone who loved him."
"Let us not speak of it," Lucius said abruptly. "It is bad enough our son and heir is dead. We need not remember him being lusted after by mudbloods."
"Let him stay dead, Lucius," Narcissa said imploringly. "Lucius, please. Don't condemn him as we were condemned."
"This is no condemnation!" His voice softened menacingly, and the woman backed away. "It is imortality, supremacy over all that breathes and all that dies." The back of his right hand met with her mouth, knocking her to the ground. "We are as the stones, Narcissa, as the sky! We are eternal, unmatched, invincible. Don't you see?" She nodded, still prostrate at his feet, and Lucius bent to help her stand. "Why do you make me hurt you?" he asked. "Ah well. I suppose it doesn't matter. Now, I must do what needs done. I must make Draco one of us, a vampire."
"Draco isn't made for the life we lead," Narcissa began timidly. "Perhaps if we had another child…"
"IDIOT!!" Lucius swung the head of his staff in a wide ark, slamming it across the woman's skull. Blood, bone and brain exploded skyward as her body once again took its place at his feet. He supposed such a blow would have been deadly had they been mortal, but, as it was, he could hurt his beautiful Narcissa in so many new and unheard of ways now that immortality was theirs. Very soon now, Draco would open his eyes, those blue-gray orbs so like his father and grandfather's before him, and see the world through the eyes of an immortal. This was the life he was destined for! This was the life for which all Malfoys were destined, and Lucius was glad he had it in his grasp to give his son and heir this priceless gift.
Turning from the woman at his feet, Lucius bent, lifted his son and stood. His movements flowed with an easy grace, and one watching him might have thought Draco weighed nothing at all. Lucius looked down, sneering at his reflection in the lake. The reflection sneered back, watery robes swirling about it as its owners did, moved by a gentle wind. Slowly, almost tenderly, he began rocking from side to side, lowering his face to the boys neck, and devouring him.
((Suddenly, I know I'm not sleeping,
Hello, I'm still here,
All that's left of yesterday.))
He remembered dying. He remembered her warm tears falling on his cold flesh and the pounding of blood, that most vital of rivers, as it rushed from him. He remembered each snowflake, each moonbeam that touched him, and he could still feel the thirsty inhalation of what he knew would be his last breath. Then the darkness came and all was still. This was death. This was the end of everything, and yet, he again felt the brush of snow on his skin, hear the gentle lapping of the lake. He was aware of movement, of arms around him as he was rocked from side to side.
Draco remembered being rocked this way when he was a small child. Lucius would stand, swaying with his sleepless son until his eyes grew heavy and his breathing became deep and even. How familiar this was, and yet, how alien. Along with the peace of arms and gentle motion, Draco was conscious of a growing and terrible thirst. What was happening to him? He could not open his eyes, could not see the one who held him or the needles puncturing the skin of his neck. He wondered at them, cold, sharp, but painless. …
And then they were gone, smoothly unsheathed from his flesh, and the arms were drawing him close. "Drink, my son," an all too familiar voice urged him. "Immerse yourself in the whine of immortality."
Imortality? So he was dead. He had to be, for no living person offered another eternal life. His lips brushed against something soft and wet, and the liquid assailing his tongue tasted oddly of--blood? He recoiled, pushing against the unseen man who held him. A firm but gentle hand pushed his head back to the warm wet opening, holding it in place. The need consumed him. Rising from thirst, drowning in blood, Draco took his fill, drinking until color returned to the world and his blind eyes saw everything, drinking until the hand pulled his head back and away.
"Perfect," Father said, his voice purring with satisfaction. "Perfect for all eternity. Welcome, Draco, to the life you were destined for, the life of a vampire!"
"What have you done?" Draco asked coldly. "For Merlin's sake, what have you done?"
FIN