𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | 𝐃.𝐌.

autovampirism

tw: gore, blood, vampires
long chapter

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Draco Malfoy. How famous that name became before the war. In another universe, different from what you know, Draco had lost both his parents. Lucius piled so much magical and dutiful debt with the Dark Lord that his life seemed the only reasonable way to pay. Narcissa, begging for her sons life to be spared, risked her own and died at the hands of her husbands killer. As Voldemort still had a price needed to be paid, he took Draco under his vigilance and changed him into something more.

Draco had given up all hope when he was taken as prisoner by the Dark Lord himself. He had no one. Not his dear Mother nor Father. Surely not his Aunt Bellatrix as she was madly in love with the man who killed her own sister. Not even his house elves whom he started to befriend before his capture.

Draco was alone.

In the outside world, wizards and witches were hearing about the spread of this tragic news, wondering where the only Malfoy heir had gone. Was he dead? He wasn't at school anymore. He hasn't made any contact with anyone since his parents passing. It was tragic news that weighed heavily on the students, even though nobody liked Draco. But everyone pretends they do when someone dies right?

Draco had lied down in his prison cell down below the Dark Castle. He was made to live in a blocked off part of the Dungeons until Voldemort had plans set for him. He carried his days in with sorrow and ended them numb. Three times a day he'd receive his meal, breakfast, lunch and dinner. He tried making small talk with the Death Eater that brought his meal but she never budged. Shortly after Dracos capture the food started to slow down, they became less and less filling everyday. He knew there was a plot to this story but he couldn't put his finger on what.

Two months had passed and Draco was thin as paper. He only received one meal each day. It was oatmeal. Granny smith and brown sugar to be exact. He didn't like the taste at first but now he was used to it. This whole time behind closed doors, Voldemort was planning on transferring Draco into a bloodsucker. Why? Well there was no specific reason. He just wanted something else to control.

Three days passed and Draco woke up to the sounds of keys being jangled. In this world, magic existed but Draco didn't have his wand anymore. So there was no use in using it on him if he couldn't fight back. It didn't matter though. Voldemort preferred to break the boy down mentally instead of physically, since it messed with the mind more painfully.

"Get up!" A man behind the female Death Eater shouted. Draco immediately rose to his feet, regretting it once he realized he hadn't walked around in a few weeks. Draco steadied himself as best as he could as the male Death Eater wrapped some chains around him. Cutting them tight so Draco would feel more pain. "Walk." Instructed the woman. Draco, beginning to use his feet for the first time in a while drug his heels slowly. It started irritating the man as he went slow so he kicked the back of Dracos leg.

"Hngh!" Draco groaned. He fell to the floor trying to catch himself. "Get up! Walk faster, the Dark Lord is waiting." Draco looked through his long hair and used all his strength to stand. "Where... where are we going?" Asked Draco. The woman who held the left side of the chains looked up evilly, "To your fate, son."

Dracos heart dropped. Were they finally going to put an end to the misery? Draco felt rather joyful than upset when he thought about it. Dying. He wants that more than anything. To see his Mother and Father again if there were an after life. He would be free, he would be with the ones he loves.