Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: elfflameFrom: leela_catTitle:
Blood-Red and Bitter-SweetCharacters/Pairings:
Regulus Black/Scorpius MalfoyRating:
Vampirism, bondingOther Warnings/Content:
Lucius Malfoy probably believed that he'd won their game of Death Eater one-upmanship. Regulus Black was determined to prove him wrong.Author's Notes:
I hope this hits your kinks just so, dear recipient."He is our lord," Lucius hissed.
His heart thudding so hard he could barely breathe, Regulus asked, "And you never question him? Never think twice about one of his orders? He's asking us to kill children, Lucius. Children!"
"He is our Lord," Lucius repeated, slower and quieter. "Ours is not to question why."
Well hidden from sunlight and prying eyes, Regulus Black perched in the rafters above the choir balcony and watched Lucius Malfoy carry his grandson to the baptismal font. The child was so blond that he seemed bald, so pale that his veins shone blue and tempting through his skin.
Regulus moved his gaze to Draco, who would have been, should have been
the last of the Malfoys, if it hadn't been for the man walking next to him. Sirius had pledged his life, his family's honour, to save Harry Potter's life.
Whatever Lucius's machinations had made of Regulus, he still couldn't bring himself to go against Sirius's wishes. Even if it meant letting Lucius Malfoy's family continue into another generation.
One side of Regulus's upper lip peeled back in disdain as he once again considered Lucius. The Black family was as good as dead, living on through the Malfoys and one or two other no longer quite so pureblood families. Lucius probably believed that he'd won their particular game of Death Eater one-upmanship.
"Scorpius Hyperion Potter Malfoy," Draco announced as Lucius held up his grandson to show him off to a church filled with fools and sycophants, most of whom were only there to suck up to Potter.
The urge to wipe the triumphant expression off Lucius's face faded when Regulus found himself staring into Scorpius's blue-grey eyes. He didn't understand how, but it was as if Scorpius were looking directly at him, into him, seeing him.
Shaking off the odd, intrusive feeling, Regulus reached for the threads of darkness that were everywhere, pulled on the ones that led in the right direction, and escaped.^V^"It was an honour," Lucius said, examining his manicure. "For you and that ugly elf of yours."
"He abandoned Kreacher there. Left him writhing in agony, screaming for his family. As if he were utterly worthless, not an elf doing his Master's bidding." Memories swept through Regulus in a wave of nausea. He blinked them away and swallowed hard. "Doesn't it worry you? The thought that this is how the Dark Lord treats those who serve?"
Lucius's head rose, and he pinned Regulus with a disdainful stare. "The Dark Lord gives us our due, according to birth and deed. Would you deny him your family?"^V^
Weasleys' Wizard Wonderland was filled with loud music, brilliantly coloured lights, screams, and laughter. Regulus wandered through the crowds, trying to give the impression of someone who belonged in this world of families and their children.
"Well, hello, pretty boy." The ghost of a young man in medieval garb floated out of the Haunted House and paused in front of Regulus. "Want to come in and get—" he struck a pose with a hand on his hip and leered "—scared?"
Regulus gave him a closed-mouthed smile, hiding his fangs. "Tempting," he said.
"You know you want to." The ghost rolled his hips. "I can make your kind feel all sorts of—"
"Oy! Gaillard!" A man, hair the shade of red that could only belong to a Weasley, came out of the front door. "Knock it off. It's a kid's birthday party tonight. Best behaviour doesn't include flirting with the customers."
Gaillard huffed and muttered, "Spoilsport," before vanishing back into the house.
The Weasley stood on the front step for a few moments, scanning the crowds, before jumping down and heading for a group of adults, many of them with the same bright red hair, that was clustered around the entrance to The Lions Den beer garden.
"Lucky bastard," Regulus murmured under his breath, then he turned and almost fell over a young blond boy.
"That's a bad word," the young boy — Scorpius — said.
"What?" Regulus asked, distracted by the sweet scent of Scorpius's blood, the way it pulsed blue-red beneath the pale skin of his throat. "Lucky?"
"No, the other one. My daddy told my grandpapa that he wasn't allowed to say that word in our house. That it's wrong and bad."
"Is it now?"
A solemn look on his face, Scorpius nodded. "Yep. And Papa told Grandpapa that if he said it again, he wouldn't be allowed in our house."
"Did they?" Regulus breathed in deeply, fangs biting into his lower lip. "Your papa and daddy sound like very smart men."
"Not as smart as me."
"If you insist."
"I'm smart enough to know what you are. You're a vampire. A sad vampire."
In lieu of an answer, Regulus arched an eyebrow and stared down his nose at Scorpius. So soft and young, so loved by Lucius that it would be devastating to lose him.
Regulus reached out with his senses, testing the air around them, feeling for the shadows. It was quiet enough where they were; he could wrap Scorpius in darkness, disappear with him.
"It's okay. You can stay, because I'm the birthday boy, and I... Say... So.
Each of the last three words was punctuated by a thump of Scorpius's fist over Regulus's heart.
And then Scorpius was giving him an impish grin and running away, towards Harry Potter's open arms.
"Damn it," Regulus muttered, absent-mindedly rubbing his chest as he faded into the shadows. ^V^"Family isn't everything," Regulus said, knowing he was being ridiculous and stubborn but unable to stop himself. "There's more to being in the Dark Lord's favour than who your ancestors were."
"Without it, however," Lucius directed a pointed look at the huddle of Death Eaters on the outer rim of the Dark Lord's great hall, "you might as well be a Bulstrode or," he curled his upper lip, "a Snape."
"Even so," Regulus insisted.
Lucius returned his gaze to Regulus and, after a moment, gave him an imperious nod. "Even so," he said agreeably. "We must be quick-witted enough to gain our Lord's attention and approval in order to retain our family's place in his inner circle. Perhaps more than others if we wish to rise in his esteem."
Alarm shot through Regulus like a Stinging hex. "We're on the same side," he protested.
"Of course, we are." He offered Regulus a tight-lipped smile and inclined his head toward a house-elf carrying a large dark green bottle. "A little more wine perhaps?"^V^
Regulus stayed in England for the next few years, determinedly not questioning why he wasn't returning to the home he'd created for himself in Provence. He hovered in the shadows and the darkness as Lucius and Narcissa rode Harry and Draco's cloak-tails all the way back to the upper echelons of the Wizarding World.
While he waited, he painted. Abstracted landscapes and portraits that remained frustratingly still and unmoving no matter how many magical and potion-laced paints he tried. Neither Wizarding nor Muggle, those paintings he permitted strangers to view sold well in both worlds.
And he watched Scorpius, tracking his progress through Hogwarts. The castle let him in. Slytherin wrapped itself around him, dark and welcoming, as he travelled the shadows into Scorpius's dorm room.
As it had done so many other nights over the past seven years, a breath of ice on each of the other teenage boys sent them deep into dreams of red and black, twining temptation and need around their souls.
Then, sure that he wouldn't be interrupted, Regulus moved quietly to the last bed in the room. At seventeen, Scorpius was tall and thin. He slept on his stomach, long legs splayed across the bed. His blond hair was unbound from its usual plait and spread over his pillows.
Warmth spread over Regulus's skin as he carefully lowered himself onto the bed next to Scorpius. Breathing sleep into Scorpius's ear, Regulus ran his fingertips down Scorpius's bare back, tracing the bumpy lines of his spine from the nape of his neck to the dip just above his pyjama bottoms.
Rolling over onto his side, Scorpius shifted closer to Regulus. He mumbled something unintelligible before sinking deeper into the dreams that Regulus was spinning for him, caught in a thorny web of blood-red roses and black silk.
"So beautiful," Regulus whispered against Scorpius's collarbone. He pressed his lips to it, let his fangs scrape over the fragile skin.
A single drop of blood welled up from a tiny nick into Regulus's mouth.
His first taste, even after all the nights, all the games.
So sweet. So good.
Need, hunger, warm and bright, like nothing he'd ever felt before, flooded through him. The black-red rose briars of Scorpius's dreams reached for him, caught him with their thorns, drew him down.
And he fought them, pulled away, pushed himself off the bed.
Not now. Not like this.
Head bowed, eyes squeezed shut, Regulus reached for the threads of night. He was fading away, more than halfway out of the room, when he heard Scorpius whisper, "Don't go."^V^"Have you taken complete leave of your senses? A Confundus, perhaps?"
Slinging his bag over one shoulder, Regulus turned to face the door. His wards held steady, keeping out everyone's prying eyes and spells, even those of the Dark Lord. They didn't prevent Lucius from entering the room though. They never had, day or night.
Lucius settled against the wardrobe and toyed with the head of the wand-cane that was his most recent affectation. "Or are you nothing more than a scared little boy, running away from the responsibilities of his rightful place?"
Ignoring the quiver deep in his gut, Regulus went to stand in front of Lucius. "I'm not afraid."
"No." Regulus lifted his chin and did his best to look more confident than he felt.
"If you insist."
"Severus gave me a potion."
"Foolish then," Lucius said, raising a hand and fitting it to Regulus's throat. He pulled Regulus forward until their lips were a mere breath apart. "Trusting so many of us with your plans. Are you so sure that no one will betray you? That none wish to usurp your place and move one step closer to our Lord's right hand?"^V^
The ball to honour Scorpius's entry into adulthood was held at Malfoy Manor. The wards were lowered. The public rooms were decorated in a blaze of white and ice blue, and the doors opened to teenagers, their families, and the cream of the Wizarding world.
Nothing prevented Regulus from slipping in with a large crowd of people, many brandishing invitations at the wizards who guarded the entryway.
Refusing offers of food and drink, Regulus wound through the crowds and made his way to the ballroom where Scorpius stood with his fathers and grandparents. A boy with dark red hair, his younger brother Jamie, leaned up against Harry Potter, and an as-yet-unnamed baby girl lay in Narcissa's arms.
It would be easy, Regulus thought, to destroy the Malfoy family right then and there. A focussed thought and a wave of his hand would bring the darkness down on them and leave them empty and lifeless.
But Harry took the baby from Narcissa, cradling her with gentle love as he hugged Scorpius with his other arm.
"Protect him," Sirius had said, madness and disbelief screaming from his eyes as he'd huddled in the corner of his cold, dark cell. "If you're real, if you're my Regulus, my little brother come back to life, leave me here and protect my Harry. Make sure he grows up. Help him be happy."
And Regulus couldn't do it. He couldn't steal away Harry's happiness. Couldn't add another betrayal to the heap that had been piled on his brother.
He couldn't leave Lucius alone either. So he moved quietly, carefully, around the room, getting into position. As soon as Harry let Scorpius go, Regulus shifted a step or two to the left.
When he was close enough that the scent of Scorpius's blood was almost overwhelming, he released the threads of shadow that disguised him. He reached out and ran a hand down Scorpius's hair, tugged on the dark red ribbon at the end of the plait, and said, "Foolish," just loud enough for Lucius to hear.
"No!" Lucius stumbled forward.
Narcissa's eyes widened, she brought a hand to her mouth, and she called out, "Regulus?"
Harry swung around, wand in one hand, baby in the other. Draco pulled out his own wand, thrusting Jamie behind him.
The ends of the ribbon trailing from one fist, Regulus bared his fangs at them before vanishing into the safety of the darkness.
He landed in his studio, fell to his knees, and screamed. All these years, so much planning, and he hadn't been able to do it. Lucius Malfoy had won, just like he had all those years before. The Malfoys would live on, and the Blacks would die.
A hand touched the back of his neck.
In a flash, Regulus rose to his feet and whirled around. He grabbed the intruder around the throat and snarled. A familiar scent, a well-known pulse against his fingers shocked him into silence.
Clearly unafraid, Scorpius smiled and stroked the back of his knuckles over Regulus's cheek. "You should have stayed," he said. "I wanted you to meet my parents."
Regulus blinked. "What?"
"Did you think you'd fooled me? That I had no idea my sad vampire was visiting me at night?"
"Oh you did, didn't you?" Scorpius patted Regulus's cheek. "There are potions for that, you know? To protect against night-time enchantments or to let you experience them while staying awake."
"My name's Scorpius," he said, sliding an arm around Regulus's waist and pressing up against him.
This close, Regulus could taste the arousal on Scorpius's breath, smell the desire in Scorpius's blood. He scrabbled for the scraps of his control.
"And you're Regulus Black," Scorpius continued. "My grandpapa said you were dead. So did my dad. But I knew you weren't. Not after I saw your portrait. You've been following me for a long time." Scorpius slid his hand over Regulus's jaw and up into his hair. "I've been waiting for you almost as long."
"So long," Scorpius murmured. He swept his tongue over Regulus's lips and pressed the tip against the point of one of Regulus's fangs.
Blood seeped soft and slow into Regulus's mouth, breaking him out of his shock, filling him with warmth, with hunger. His control broke under the avalanche of want
, and he slid his hands under Scorpius's ass.
"Yes," Scorpius hissed into Regulus's mouth, wrapping his legs around Regulus's hips.
It took everything Regulus had to move, to put one foot in front of the other. But he needed, and he wanted, and this taking, this possessing could not happen on his paint-spattered floor.
With every step, Scorpius writhed against him, licked into him, rubbed his cock against Regulus's hip. They rocked, almost stumbled more than once, and eventually they reached the bed.
Regulus let go, and Scorpius fell. He bounced a couple of times then scrambled backwards to half-sit, half-lie, his back resting against the heap of pillows.
"Too far away," Scorpius complained. "And too dressed."
"So do something about it," Regulus said, crawling onto the end of the bed. "You're the wizard."
A twirl of Scorpius's wand, a whispered word, the caress of warm magic against Regulus's skin, and their clothes vanished.
"Powerful," Regulus murmured into the curve of Scorpius's knee.
"And you like it." Scorpius said.
Regulus did. So much. he could feel the magic inside Scorpius, taste the power in his blood, as he ran his tongue up Scorpius's leg. He followed the tracery of veins, sucking blood to the surface, causing red to bloom against the white skin.
He paused with his lips at the top of Scorpius's thigh. Then, lifting his head, he blew cool air over Scorpius cock and balls. Again and again.
Until Scorpius was arching up into him, clawing at the covers. "Please," Scorpius begged. "For Merlin's sake, please."
"My name," Regulus said. "Say my name."
"Regulus," Scorpius hissed. "Regulus, please!"
"As you will." Regulus licked up the vein that ran along the underside of Scorpius's cock, swirled his tongue over the head and lapped at the slit and the bitter-sweet precome. He dragged his fangs over the cut of Scorpius's hips, fighting the urge to press in, to take, to drink, to own.
An incoherent noise came from Scorpius as he pushed up against Regulus's mouth, and then, "Need. Fuck. Please."
Regulus looked up at him, at the lips he'd bitten red, the flush high on his cheekbones.
"Fuck me," Scorpius said, clearly aiming for an order but his voice was too ragged with pleading.
"No," Regulus said, not because he didn't want to but because he hadn't fed enough... yet.
"Then let me fuck you."
The thought, the image, raced through Regulus, hot like blood, sizzling with magic. He crawled up over Scorpius's body, resting his ass on top of Scorpius's cock, rolling his hips.
Scorpius moaned and thrust his hips upward. The head of his cock rubbed against Regulus's cleft, and Regulus rocked down.
Before Regulus could say anything more than "Now," Scorpius was scrabbling for his wand and jabbing it roughly against Regulus's hip.
Magic curled through Regulus, wrapped around the base of his spine, like a bolt of lightning grounding itself, opening him up, making him slick. Then Scorpius's fingers were there, pushing between them, pressing into him. Regulus rocked back on them, taking them deep inside, and Scorpius crooked his fingers just so, and Regulus gasped. It was like the spark of magic flowing through him again. Heady, addictive.
And Scorpius did it again and again, until he pulled his fingers out, and it was Regulus's turn to beg.
"Salazar, damn you." He slid his knees further apart, dragging his cock over Scorpius's, over and over. Need twined with hunger, and he licked at Scorpius's neck, sucked on his jugular, tasting the blood just beneath the surface.
Scorpius pushed up and inside him, and Regulus bit down. Blood flowed into him with every beat of Scorpius's heart, every thrust in and out. He could feel Scorpius's need, taste the vicious urgency of his want, as they moved together, and when Scorpius came, groaning his name, Regulus was lost in the shockwave of possessing, of being possessed.
Afterwards, as they lay together, Regulus chased a drop of blood down Scorpius's neck. Scorpius's heartbeat gradually slowed to a steady rhythm and his long fingers smoothed snarls from Regulus's hair.
It was quiet and peaceful, and Regulus couldn't bring himself to move.
"We're the same age," Scorpius said, breaking the silence.
Smiling, Regulus shook his head. "Not really."
"Close enough. Anyone looking at us would think it." Scorpius shifted down, manoeuvring them until they were facing each other. After a moment, Scorpius said, "You have a heartbeat. I can feel it."
As he had so many times with Scorpius's grandfather, Regulus was at a loss for words. The change of subject brought with it an underlying something
that he just didn't get. "I'm not dead."
"I don't want to grow too old for you," Scorpius said. "Not now, not ever."
Regulus held him close and said, "I won't let you."