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For the Want of a Nail	By : thewickednix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4934 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. This is made for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2. The Cold Kiss of Dawn

I am woken by a blinding light. As my other senses kick in though, I realise I'm hardly staring at the gates of heaven. I doubt one arrives to heaven lying flat on one's back on cold wet concrete.
Focusing my gaze, I find myself staring up at the familiar sign of Ollivanders. Groaning as I force myself to sit up, I look around in the alley where I have obviously spent the night.
The narrow passage is completely empty, except for my wand that I see lying about three yards away from me. I shake my head, thanking whichever god that protected me from being killed, lying here in a dark alleyway completely unarmed.
I stop mid-movement, as I realise I should have been killed. Slightly panicked I look down at my hands, and then out to the street behind me. Granted, only a few people pass by, as it must still be early morning, but this is definitely Diagon Alley. And I am here, alive.
I run a hand trough my hair while I fight to breathe normally. Could it all have been just a dream? Maybe I just slipped, and I hit my head as I fell to the ground?
But my instincts tell me it isn't right. It was a vampire that attacked me. I could not make this stuff up.

Could I?

Standing up, I brace myself for the back pain and sore limbs that come from being attacked and sleeping in an snowy alley in the middle of December. Strangely enough, the pain never comes. My body feels perfectly fine, even though I just spent several hours lying on the cold ground. I shake my head dismissively and walk over to pick up my wand from the ground. Maybe I really did just hit my head. I mean, I am alive, aren't I? If I actually had been attacked by a vampire, I would now be dead, no?

Yes, that must be it. I slipped, and the blow to my head made me crazy. No biggie.

I straighten the front of my robes as I exit the alley. I stroll down the main street towards the Leaky Cauldron where I was headed last night. Trying to make myself somewhat presentable, I reach for my hair. But as my left hand brushes by my throat, I freeze in my steps.
There is a dull ache on the side of my neck, and as I feel closer to the centre of the pain... there they are. Two small wounds, an inch and a half apart.
Sweet Merlin.

___________________________________________________________________

I have no recollection of how I made it home after that.
Luckily Malfoy Mansion is large enough so that Mother hadn't even realised I didn't return home last night. I am able to make my way into my room unnoticed.
After locking the door and stripping off my shirt and robes, I step in front of the mirror in the bathroom.
I cannot but to stare at my reflection.
The obvious changes are the two punctured holes on my throat, surrounded by a small patch of reddened skin. But as I look closer, I see that my hair, which before always has been the clean colour of platinum and ice, is now mixed with pale shades of red. It is also longer, almost shoulder length. And though my skin always has been pale, it is now if possible even paler, almost luminous. My eyes are basically the same silver colour they have always been, though now flecked with spots of darker grey, and my pupils are unusually dialated.
My face itself looks as if carved out of stone, white and refined. Dead. I try to examine my teeth for any change, but they are the same as they've always been, if a shade whiter.
I grab the green marble counter for support as I shake my head in frustration. What is happening to me? I could brush it all off if it weren't for the puncture wounds and the change in hair colour. That just isn't normal.
I look into the mirror again, sighing defeatedly. Obviously the vampire bit me, long enough for me to pass out. How can I be alive? Why would he leave me to live? And if he did bite me and leave me alive on purpose, that would mean that...
Well, we don't want to think about what that means.
I avert my gaze to my mouth again. I bare my teeth in a predatory grin, but nothing changes. No fangs, nothing. I close my eyes run one hand though my ragged hair whilst gripping the counter harder with the other. What the hell is wrong with me?

A loud crack startles me from my musings. I lower my gaze only to see a chunk of marble in the hand that was just gripping the counter. Letting go of the stone as if burned, I lean against what's left of the counter, hearing the loud thunk of the marble hitting the floor.

This cannot be happening.

Staring from at my hand, then at the ruined table, and at my hand again, I feel the adrenaline pump through my veins at superspeed. Turning back to the mirror once more, I bare my teeth.

Come on, come on, show me them. I chant silently.
And suddenly, a vampire is staring back at me from the mirror. It is not a big change, but a change nonetheless. I let the tip of my tongue grace my fangs, just to make sure they are really there. And they are. Until I will them to disappear again.
Terrified but the same time enchanted by my new powers, I spend the whole day exploring them. Not just the obvious ones like the fangs and the hair colour, but the others. I find that I really am inhumanly strong; ripping the thick oak bathroom door from its frame was child's play. For a moment I am so blinded by my new apparel and skills that I forget the reason for them.
But then, the house-elf Tilby brings me my lunch. And I cannot get down a bite. Even the smell of that beautiful roast beef makes me nauseous. Looking into the large mirror on my bedroom wall, I realise that I have been a fool. These powers are not amazing and enchanting. They're disgusting. I'm not even human any longer. I am nothing but a monster.
And it hits me, and I can only laugh at the irony of it all. I had been planning my own demise for months now. I wanted to die so desperately. And now...
Now I am immortal.
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For the Want of a Nail