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The cell door opened, and Draco slowly raised his head. He was weak.
After his transformation, he had awakened and attacked his companions, gripped by an insatiable hunger. They had to repeatedly stun him to stop him, but to no avail. Voldemort himself had intervened, locking him in that prison and chaining him. Draco's lucidity waxed and waned; sometimes he remembered the Dark Lord's visits, but often his mind was shrouded in fog.
He was hungry. He wanted to sink his teeth into tender flesh and feed. He wanted to devour. He wanted to die. He didn't know how much time had passed, what day it was. It was eternal night.
He thought he was dreaming, then, when the cell door opened and he saw Hermione Granger was forced through the opening. She looked around, trembling, but appeared unharmed in her green Order Healer uniform. He hadn't seen her in years.
Behind her, Lord Voldemort entered.
He had changed greatly since the first time Draco had seen him; Aunt Bella claimed he was even more beautiful than when she had first met him. No one could explain how he did it, but every now and then he disappeared and returned, younger and stronger.
"Here you are, Mudblood. You're a healer, aren't you? I have a patient for you. My soldiers captured you especially for him."
Hermione's eyes rose to the person chained to the wall.
"Draco? Draco, you're alive?!" Her voice, after all this time. Hermione seemed to lunge for him, but a wave of the Dark Lord's hand held her back, and another silenced her.
Draco's sanity faltered.
"My Lord... please... not her..." He begged.
Voldemort's face twisted into a cruel grin.
"Oh yes, Draco. Her. Did you think you could keep this from me forever? You were good, I admit." The Dark Lord approached the chains, making them jingle. "But now you're hungry and weak and not clear-headed, and I can see into your mind, and you don't have the strength to deceive me."
Draco was desperate.
"I haven't met her since the war began... I've never betrayed you, I swear..."
Voldemort roared.
"Loving her IS treason!" The cell seemed to tremble with the force of his rage. The Dark Lord lost his composure. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was imperturbable again. "But you're right, you've always followed orders. You're not a spy, and you've proven your worth in battle."
He turned to Hermione, lifted the spell, and she was free to speak and move. She did neither.
"I won't punish you. In fact, you could consider it... a reward for your service. An incentive to continue doing your job to the best of your ability. You will feed on her, and I will have my most powerful soldier again."
"My lord, no... I'll do anything but this... I'll kill her..."
"Oh, Draco, you won't do that, I'll make sure that doesn't happen. You couldn't find better food than this, could you?"
Voldemort turned to Hermione.
"And you, Mudblood? Don't you want to save the man you love? You can do it the easy way, or I can bring all the Order prisoners here and let Draco feed without restraint."
Hermione was trembling. She kept staring at Draco, chained in his cell. Finally, she straightened and approached him, stopping a step away. She tried to look him in the eye, but he looked away. She raised her hand to caress his face.
"We heard you were attacked by a vampire during a raid. I thought you were dead..."
Draco's cheek was cold to the touch, and Hermione's hand was warm. Draco allowed himself to surrender to that touch, finally looking at her.
"But I am, Hermione..."
Tears streamed from her eyes as she undid the top button of her robe and slowly revealed her neck.
"And yet here you are, before me, after years."
Draco tried to resist the urge, but she was so close, and he could smell her, and feel the pulse of her blood beneath her scented skin. She was still beautiful, and he'd missed her so much, and he was about to hurt her. The chains were long, and he managed to wrap his arms around her and smell her hair. God, how he'd missed that scent.
He sank his teeth into her neck and drank. Hermione hissed in pain and then let go, leaning against Draco.
Voldemort watched the scene with a scarlet glint in his eyes. A moan of pleasure escaped Draco's lips as he sucked greedily. Too greedily. With a wave of his hand, Draco's chains tightened, and he lost his grip on Hermione. Voldemort pulled her away from the vampire, clutching her hair in his fist.
"No! Please give her back! She's mine!" Draco screamed, drunk on Hermione's blood. He wanted more. More of her blood. More of her.
"She's only yours because I allowed it." Draco continued to fidget. "If you want to kill her, that's no problem, but come to your senses if you want her to live."
Draco concentrated on his Occlumency lessons until he regained control. Only then did Voldemort loosen Draco's chains again and push Hermione toward the vampire, gripping her chin with his hand. "There she is, yours again. You may eat."
And as Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione again, leaning down to taste her blood, Voldemort didn't let go of her face.
"You should be happy, Mudblood. Not only will you not die, but you can be together. You must admit, I'm generous. Your lives belong to me; you are both mine."
The lips of his pureblood Death Eater were stained with the girl's red blood. Mudblood. He watched it run down her collarbone, staining her dress.
"I've seen you in Draco's memories. He thinks you're powerful. I think so too. Blood... we both know it doesn't matter. You know about me, everyone does, yet my followers choose to ignore it. They see only the lineage of Salazar Slytherin, the power, and that's fine with me. They choose to ignore the fact that the purest bloodline is tainted by disease and madness. The Gaunts, the Blacks..." Draco felt his Lord's gaze on him. "But the Malfoys understood this long ago and have hidden their halfblood and Muggle-born brides well over the centuries."
With a gesture, Voldemort separated Draco's mouth from her neck and released his grip on Hermione's face, so that her head fell forward. She was weak, but alive. Draco's natural pallor was once again tinged with a faint blush.
Voldemort ran a thumb over Draco's blood-stained lips. Then he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked.
"It's not mud," he whispered as he looked Draco in the eyes.
"No, it's not."
Hermione lay helpless in the vampire's possessive arms. With a wave of Voldemort's hand, the chains fell from Draco's wrists.
He grabbed the back of Draco's neck and tore a furious kiss from his lips.
As suddenly as it had begun, it ended.
A breath away from Draco's face, Voldemort was licking his lips, and Hermione's blood was now staining his face as well.
"But together, you're sweeter."
Voldemort left, leaving the two alone and the door open. Draco held Hermione close, her breathing shallow. She opened her eyes.
"Draco..." she whispered.
He kissed her, after years of only dreaming of it. And that's how it happened: he was a vampire, she was a prisoner, and the taste of her blood mingled between them.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione..."
She smiled through her tears. At least they were together.
He lifted her bridal style, and together they left the cell.