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The Long-Desired	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12097 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-The Long-Desired
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 12
- 13
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last
chapter of The Long-Desired, and thus
the last chapter of the Two Hunters Series. Thank you for reading.

�� You have
to remember how quick a werewolf is,� Draco said, sounding as if he was trying
to convince himself.

�� Harry
looked up from the first of a stack of newly-acquired books and raised an
eyebrow. �Faster than a vampire?�

�� Draco sank
into pondering. Harry snorted silently and returned to the book.

�� Draco
seemed to believe that because Harry had been reckless in challenging one or
two powerful vampires, he would be reckless in challenging every single Dark
creature he might fight. He�d fussed about the house for days now, offering
unneeded advice, checking Harry�s cache of weapons to see what he might add,
and testing the sharpness of his fangs with one finger as if he assumed it
would fall to him to save Harry from a werewolf�s clutches.

�� And yet, he
was so proud that he couldn�t really conceive any werewolf would be a danger to
his Long-Desired, who had Draco and their shared magic to protect him. So he�d
also sometimes told Harry he didn�t need to study so much, and shrugged off the
single week remaining until the full moon as unimportant.

�� Harry had
to admit it was entertaining to watch the conflict of Draco�s instincts and his
arrogance.

�� Abruptly, a
pale hand curled around the top of his book and pried it down, and Draco peered
at him intensely from less than a foot away. Harry blinked back and wondered
what the matter was.

�� Yes,�
Draco said gravely, �sometimes werewolves are faster than vampires. I want you
to make sure that you take every precaution.� He leaned towards Harry and
rubbed his chin against Harry�s cheek like some overgrown dead cat. �I�d rather
take any amount of insults and humiliation than lose you.�

�� Harry
swallowed. There was a painful lump in his throat that prevented the swallow
from getting all the way to the bottom of his neck, for some reason. �You
really don�t need to worry about that, Draco,� he whispered. �I promise.�

�� I worry
anyway.� Draco pushed the book out of the chair, which made Harry open his
mouth to protest that he could hardly study like that, and then close it again
when he realized the way Draco was clutching at him. His eyes were very wide
and his lips parted so that Harry could see his fangs, even though they were
folded against the roof of his mouth. �We�ve barely started the years that we
should have together,� Draco whispered. �I want to make sure that we have all of them, Harry. Do you understand?�

�� Harry
nodded. He wasn�t able to speak. He reached up and stroked Draco�s forehead.
When he thought he�d found his voice, he said lightly, �I wouldn�t want to
deprive you of your source of free blood, after all.�

�� No, you
wouldn�t,� Draco said. He caught Harry�s fingers and nipped at them, though he
kept his fangs folded back so Harry felt no more than a faint prickling along
his fingertips. �Or of the chance to make you happy.�

�� Harry
closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair. Draco considered
those two things equally important, it seemed, because he�d said them both with
no change of expression or emphasis in between.

�� I need
you,� Draco said. �For drinking and holding and protecting. I always will.�

�� Harry could
remember a time when he would have grown angry because Draco had only said
those words, instead of listing everything else that he�d done with Harry in
the past few weeks. Now he was able to listen for implications again, moving
away from the large, dark, crude things he�d done since Ginny died, and he
opened his eyes and smiled at Draco. �I know,� he said.

*

�� Draco stood
straight outside Granger�s house, his arms folded in front of him, his fangs
carefully kept back although he wanted to extend them. From inside the house,
voices rose and fell. They would have been unintelligible to a mortal, because
Harry was whispering and trying to keep his friends from shouting. He should
have learned long since that a vampire�s superior senses were superior for a reason,
Draco thought in scorn, and listened.

�� He�s not
going to eat you, Ron,� Harry said with strained patience. �Why would he want
to? He has me.�

�� Draco
opened his mouth so that his amusement could escape in a silent breath. The
statement was perfectly true, but he could imagine Weasley looking insulted. He
always did think that he should be
the most important person to anyone around.

�� And
vampires don�t eat food besides blood,� Granger added, apparently because the
conversation had proceeded for too long without an interjection of her
brilliance. �You don�t have to worry about him eating anything here, Ron.�

�� Then
what�s the point of inviting him to dinner?� Weasley�s voice rose in triumph.
�You might as well leave him home and let us enjoy an evening with you, Harry.�

�� Maybe that
would work for lunch or breakfast, when he�s dead,� Harry said. Draco could
hear the soft rustling of cloth as he shifted his position. He wondered if
Granger or Weasley, who could not be expected to know his Long-Desired as well
as Draco did, realized that Harry was growing impatient when he made a motion
like that. �But I�m not going to leave him out of an evening meal. We only get
to spend half the day together as it is.�

�� I don�t
see how you can tolerate a life like that!�

�� Draco
blinked. He had not expected an outburst from Weasley like this, or not so
soon. He had seemed content to avoid the subject of Harry and Draco�s
Long-Desired bond altogether after the feeding he had seen.

�� But if he
ranted, then he was welcome to do so. Draco no longer had a fear that Weasley
would turn Harry against him.

�� You would
be so much happier with a mortal lover, who could spend all the hours of the
day with you,� Weasley was telling Potter earnestly. �You could laugh with
them, introduce them to people besides Hermione and me, keep your Auror job.�
He cut himself off with a gulp, and then said, �Harry, how in the world are you
going to introduce Malfoy to my parents?�

�� I don�t
know yet,� Harry said, which made Draco smile gently. Harry could be so
courageous now, when, before, it seemed to sting him if he didn�t have an
answer for a question. �I�ll worry about that when the time comes. I�ll
probably bring the subject up gently. They already know that I�ve stopped
hunting vampires. Sooner or later it�ll be natural to explain the reason why.�

�� But they
still hate vampires, you know,� Weasley said, who sounded as if he�d thought
Harry would give Draco up the moment he started making difficulties. �They
won�t like the fact that you�re dating one.�

�� You don�t
like it, either,� Harry said. �That hasn�t stopped me yet.�

�� For long
heartbeats, there was only silence, save for the involuntary sounds like
breathing that they made in spite of themselves. Then Granger sighed. �Ron, you
know that you can�t control everything Harry does,� she said. �You gave that up
two years ago. And I think you should stop this irrational jealousy of yours
that you weren�t the one to bring Harry back to his normal life.�

�� What?�
Harry asked.

�� What?�
Weasley asked.

�� Draco
rolled his eyes. He had seen Weasley�s jealousy the first time he smelled his
scent after he was turned, but Harry had become so deaf when Draco tried to
explain that he didn�t consider it worthwhile to do so.

�� You wanted
to be the one who would teach Harry how wrong hunting vampires without a
concern for his own safety was,� Granger said in her bossy way. �You talked
about it often enough, Ron, don�t argue with me now!� Draco grinned at
Weasley�s sulky mutter, accompanied by a closing of his mouth. �And then Malfoy
came in and did it instead. It�s natural that you would resent him. But you
should really stop trying to pretend that you�re concerned about Harry, instead
of about your own inability to help him.�

�� More sulking.
Draco could practically hear the Weasel sticking out his lower lip. He knew he could hear Harry�s stifled
laugh.

�� Then Harry
said, �Mate, you kept me sane for the years I was hunting. You�ve been the best
Auror partner I could ask for, and the best friend for years before that. You
saved my life over and over again when we were in school.� Draco heard the
sharp clap as Harry clasped Weasley�s shoulder. �Let someone else have this
triumph, all right? Especially since the other things Draco gives me are things
you wouldn�t want to give me.�

�� Weasley
sighed as though he intended to blow down the walls of the house. �All right,� he said, in the tones of someone
doing a great favor. �But if he ever hurts you�if he ever starts taking too
much blood�then he�ll have to be prepared to deal with me.�

�� I�ll let
you know if that happens,� Harry said solemnly. Draco tensed, then relaxed
again. As Harry moved towards the door to let him in, he could smell the thick
resignation that meant Harry had only been humoring Weasley. He didn�t really
believe that Draco would start up and drain him dry some fine night.

�� Still, when
the door opened, Draco put his arms around Harry and rested his head against
his shoulder for long moments. He would not say his feelings could be hurt.
Rather, he was consumed by doubt whenever Harry�s friends found and followed a
course of reason for a little while.

�� Everything�s
fine,� Harry whispered, stroking his hair. �Come in and have dinner.� Draco
snorted, and Harry snorted back. �Sit at the table and try to wear some
expression that�s not proud, for once in your life.�

�� Draco
decided, as he followed Harry in, that he could try to mix something else with
the pride. A fine edge of contempt ought to work wonders.

*

�� Harry took
a deep breath and mentally ran over the tally of weapons that he carried again.
He couldn�t open the pack to check on them a final time, although he wanted to,
or he would create noise that might alert their prey.

�� He turned
his head up towards the branches of the tree above him and blinked twice. He
saw Draco�s fangs flash in return. He was ready, and they only needed their
prey to show up.

�� They were
hunting Leon Fangfur, as he called himself, one of the werewolves that Greyback
had made out of desperate Muggleborns in the last days of the war, when they
thought that serving Voldemort would be better than being stripped of their
wands. Most of them had given in or been captured long since, but not Leon. He
changed his name from its original Painter to something more �werewolfish,� and
then terrorized the families of those who offended him, the way Greyback had
done. Most offensively, he had picked up Greyback�s habit of biting children,
including those too young to survive the transformation.

�� Harry had
never despised the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical
Creatures more than he did when he found out how many attempts they had
launched to capture Fangfur. Each time, they�d failed, because they refused to
prepare properly and gave everyone who wanted a chance on the hunt that chance,
because it was considered an opportunity for promotion. They also wanted to capture rather than kill their prey, and
they had to obey the laws, which limited their choice of weapons.

�� Neither of
those was true for Harry and Draco.

�� It had been
easy enough to contact some of Fangfur�s victims and ask if they would pay
someone to exact revenge. Harry hadn�t wanted to charge them much, because this
was his first hunt and most of the families couldn�t afford to pay individually.
But together, they had scraped a hundred Galleons up and insisted on his
accepting the lot, along with all the information they had on Fangfur.

�� And then
they had followed the rumors of his passing. His killing and infecting
progressed across the country; when he reached one of the coasts, he simply
turned around and started back the other way. It was easy enough to figure out
that, tonight, he would probably turn around and bite Gloria Evening, the
daughter of a prominent Ministry official who had supported werewolf
registration. Fangfur was apt to take things that were aimed at all werewolves
as insults to him.

�� The house
was in a grove of oak trees, surrounded by Muggle-Repelling Charms, since there
was a village not too far away. Draco had crawled into one of the oaks the
moment dusk came and scouted for a time before he would allow Harry to crawl
into the bushes below. Draco already showed a tendency to be too
overprotective, Harry thought grumpily.

�� But when he
heard the slow steps and deep snuffling of the wolf, he was glad that Draco had
been the one to go first. He could tense with the excitement of the hunt,
rather than with the paranoia that had consumed him when his victim was a
vampire, and he trusted Draco to have chosen the best spot for their ambush.

�� He peered
through a gap in the bushes, and caught a glimpse of grey fur. He nodded,
though he kept the motion small so that he wouldn�t make the bushes rustle and
alert Fangfur. Yes, that had to be him, because he had a long white stripe
across his nose, exactly the way that his victims� families had described him.
And he was low-slung to the ground, slinking along with a predatory grace that
an ordinary wolf or a dog wouldn�t have.

�� He looked
up at the house, and his lips wrinkled back from his fangs, baring enormous
white teeth. Harry spent a moment looking at the amber eyes, because he had
promised Draco he would, but couldn�t see any trace of sanity in them, so he
couldn�t tell whether Fangfur was under the influence of Wolfsbane or not.
Harry thought he almost had to be, because otherwise he how would he know to go
after his chosen victim instead of attacking anyone he met? But maybe he just
transformed on the outer edge of his victim�s property and let himself go with
his instincts, which were probably oriented towards biting children.

�� Harry
whistled to call Draco with him, because when he attacked there was no need to
be secret, and leaped out of the bushes with his first weapon, a long silver
chain, whirling around his head.

�� Fangfur
recoiled, but surged forwards when Draco leaped down on him from above, riding
him like a Muggle on a bull. Fangfur was howling, Draco was making a wordless,
vicious sound that Harry would have called a snarl except it was too thick, and
Harry was reminding himself that he didn�t need to worry about hitting Draco
when he brought the chain down, because Draco could always heal.

�� Harry
lashed out, and the silver caught Fangfur across his white stripe.

�� He
screamed, and then screamed again. Harry knew that Draco must have dug his
fangs in.

�� But
apparently being a werewolf had taught Fangfur something about combat. Despite
the enormous pain he must be in, he crouched, growled, and leaped at Harry.

�� Harry
hadn�t hunted vampires without learning something himself. He rolled out of the
way, ducked into the bushes again, and dug out the clinking silver harness he
had wanted to experiment with. He didn�t know if they would have time to use it
properly, but at least they could see how well it worked before their next
werewolf hunt.

�� A chorus of
shrieks and gurgles sounded to his ears. It made him smile, because that meant
Draco was still functioning and Fangfur hadn�t died too easily.

�� He burst
out again, and hesitated, trying to understand the direction he should strike
from. Fangfur and Draco were a tumbling, rolling ball of legs and nails and
teeth and pale skin and grey coat. Finally he shook his head and waited until
Fangfur stood upright, his shoulders tensed as he tried to throw Draco off.
Then Harry slipped the silver harness around his left hind leg and fastened it
with a click of the links.

�� Fangfur
screamed more loudly than before. Harry smiled. He should. The silver harness
was filled with their shared magic, which he and Draco had poured into it
yesterday, after Draco fed from him. The harness would torture any werewolf
that got inside it. Harry hadn�t been more specific than �torture,� but he
suspected that Draco had, and caused the harness to imitate some actual curses.

�� The harness
tightened, winding around itself, and at the same time Draco reared high, blood
on his fangs, and then struck down like a snake.

�� Fangfur
shuddered, a long motion that seemed to start in his muzzle and work its way
swiftly back towards his hind legs, like the strike of a lightning bolt. Then
he yelped, a piteous sound that would have had Harry feeling sorry for him if
anything could, and slumped to the ground. Harry heard the pouring of blood,
the tearing of flesh, and the sound of Draco feeding. He waited, pushing down
the strange jealousy that Draco should feed from anyone except him. Yes, he felt that jealousy, but it
was a rather stupid thing to feel, and there was no reason for it.

�� Draco
pulled away from the werewolf�s body at last, shaking his hands so that the
blood fell off them to the grass. Harry smiled, and waited until Draco oriented
on him again. Sometimes he was dazed after a particularly intense feeding.

�� How did it
taste?� he asked.

�� Iron-like,�
Draco said, his voice flat but moving back towards the steady tone that Harry
knew best quickly. �Strong. Nothing like yours. I wouldn�t want yours to be like that.� He grimaced and licked his lips again.

�� Only then
did he seem to glance down and really realize that Fangfur was dead. He blinked
twice and looked back at Harry. �We completed our first hunt?� he asked.

�� Harry
nodded.

�� Without
anyone being wounded?�

�� Harry
looked down at his body just to make sure, and then turned and glanced up at
Draco. No, the chain hadn�t hit him. �Without anyone being wounded,� he said,
grinning at Draco, joy filling him up like wine poured into a glass. He
expected a grin in return and some remark about how Harry had obviously needed
Draco at his side all those years.

�� Instead,
Draco sprang forwards, set his hands on Harry�s shoulders, and bent down to
kiss him and suck at his lips.

�� It took all
of Harry�s concentration to draw his wand and Apparate them out of there. True,
the Evening family probably wouldn�t investigate the scene of Fangfur�s death
any time soon, not after hearing his death screams, but Harry still didn�t want
to be caught in the open kissing Draco by people who wouldn�t understand.

*

�

�� Draco
smelled familiar sheets and cloth as they landed in Harry�s bedroom, and took a
moment to feel grateful for his Long-Desired�s magic. Even with Draco kissing
him, he managed to land them in the right place instead of Splinch them.

�� And then
Draco�s pride reared up and demanded to know exactly why Harry was able to
concentrate like that. Hadn�t Draco done a good enough job of kissing him?

�� Draco
whirled and threw Harry onto the bed. Given his strength and Harry�s build,
that caused Harry almost to crash into the wall. He lifted himself on his
elbows and stared at Draco incredulously.

�� Draco wasn�t
going to apologize, not with the savage hunger that had come over him when he
realized that they had survived, working as if they�d hunted together for
years. He bent down and began to shear his fangs down the side of Harry�s
chest, cutting his robes off him.

�� Luckily,
Harry understood what he was about and unbuttoned his shirt before Draco had to
split that, too. His eyes were locked on Draco�s face as he kicked his boots
off and unclasped his belt. They shone with hard fervor.

�� Draco was
sure his eyes looked much the same. He did bend, ready to cut Harry�s trousers
and pants, too, but Harry shook his head and yanked them off with undignified
motions. Then he reached up and began to pull the red robe, which Draco had worn
tonight because he wanted to see how well it would stand up to battle
circumstances, away. Draco stood still passively and let him. He saw no reason
to hurry Harry�s admiration of him. Harry was beauty in motion, but when Draco
stood still, then his chill perfection could best be admired.

�� Harry
didn�t take the time to admire it as he should. He dragged Draco onto the bed,
and then reached for his wand. Draco tensed. He didn�t know what Harry had
planned, or if it would fit with his own plans.

�� But Harry
conjured lubricant onto his own arse and Draco�s cock, and Draco relaxed again,
leaning forwards to breathe gently across the puncture marks.

�� Not
gentle, not this time,� Harry panted, and pushed himself down and backwards,
opening his legs with the same haste that Draco had used when he tossed him
onto the bed. Draco licked his lips and eased Harry�s legs up onto his
shoulders. He couldn�t keep himself from pausing, though. Given how dry his
cock was, it might hurt Harry going in with as little lubricant as they had.

�� Harry, if
you want to��

�� No,� Harry
said, his eyes flaring so brilliantly that Draco hoped his friends could see
them and knew what the light signified. �Go on.�

�� Bowing to
the inevitable, both Harry�s desire and his own, Draco began to press forwards.
Harry caught his breath and gasped once or twice, but in the end he was
breathing noisily, his fingers clenched in the bedsheets, his eyes blinking
rapidly, and Draco all the way within him.

�� Draco
closed his eyes. It was like bathing with blood, a luxury that Caspar had
sometimes indulged in and Draco never had. He had thought he would never get to
experience it, since of course he could not drain Harry�s body of that much
liquid. But now�now, he knew.

�� Move,�
Harry said, his voice harsh and grating.

�� Draco
stared down at him. �Am I hurting you?�

�� You�re
hurting me by staying still,� Harry said, and then flung his head back, biting
his lip, his eyes clouded with pain and determination. Still wild, Draco
thought as he began to move, still victorious even though he was the one who
had lain down for Draco.

�� And because
he was like that, Draco knew that he would not mind lying down for him.

�� His hips
surged, the bed rocked, and he pounded into Harry with all the force of flesh
and bone and fang, the force that made him what he was. Harry met him thrust
for thrust, his cock rising again, his face flushing with that beautiful blood
that made him what he was and gave
Draco life, and when he came, it was with a fierce and feral shout that tugged
Draco�s orgasm out of him and made him slip slickly back and forth in Harry.

�� Next
time,� Harry said, as Draco collapsed and took deep breaths out of sheer mortal
habit, �we�ll have to go more slowly, and see if we can make it hurt less.�

�� Draco
raised his head and stared anxiously at him. �If I had known, I would have��

�� Harry cut
him off with a harsh kiss. �Listen to me,� he whispered. �That was what I
wanted. As a victory celebration, and a way of urging me past my fears for the
first time. I didn�t have time to think about myself and my silly little
worries because I was watching your face.� He paused, but then put a hand on
Draco�s cheek and shook his head. �You�ve brought me back to a world where pain
isn�t the most important thing anymore,� he said. �I couldn�t let it be the
most important thing here, either.�

�� Draco
turned his head and kissed Harry�s hand. He could feel his eyes fluttering,
longing to close, and he muffled his moan against skin.

�� When he
looked again, he found that his fangs had cut a delicate slice in the middle of
Harry�s palm.

�� Harry
looked at it for a moment, then smeared the blood over Draco�s lips.

�� Draco
closed his lips around it in gratitude, watching in greed and desire and awe as
Harry�s pulse grew faster and his cheeks flushed yet again.

�� Mine.

�� But the
word felt wrong and insufficient, given that the blood was shared between them,
produced by Harry�s body and drunk by Draco�s.

�� Ours,� he
said aloud.

�� Yes,�
Harry hissed back, and then he was kissing Draco and driving him backwards into
the blankets, and his lips were
smeared with blood, and his face was wild and free and familiar, and Draco
tangled his fingers into Harry�s head and yanked him down for another kiss.

�� There would
be years of this, years of feeding and hunting and playing and biting.

�� Vampires
might not know an afterlife in the conventional way of talking about things,
but Draco was sure he had found his paradise.

�� End.

*

�� Kiersten:
Thank you!

�� JtheChosen1:
Thank you!

�� polka dot: If
they ever really needed money, Draco could probably sell things from Malfoy
Manor on the black market. But yeah, he can�t legally prove his claim to most
of those things without proving that he�s a vampire.

�� Snivelly:
Thank you! I think the story did lose some impact in Chapter 12, but then, not
everything in Harry�s life can be the same strained pitch that it was before
Draco entered it; there�s no way that he could exist like that forever.

�� Hope this
last chapter was everything you were hoping for.

�� hieisdragoness18:
Thank you!

�� SP777:
Thank you so much! I know not as many people like vampire stories as, say, Auror
fics, but I did enjoy writing this story and slowly growing Harry and Draco�s relationship.

�� And you can
take some of the credit if you like. ;)

�� jenny: Thank
you!

�� helga1967:
Thank you.

�� Jacinta:
Well, this does have to be the last chapter, and it�s not much longer than the
others, but at least it has a smut scene in it?
- 12
- 13
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The Long-Desired