Hi! In a, recent ask, you mentioned a Fae Draco fic you were writing a while ago. Is that (or a different fae fic) something you ever finished? I'd love to read it!
Hello! I have not finished that story. I do want to though if people are interested! I can give you some snippets as the next best thing
“Care to give me your name?” The Fae asked, eyes still taking in the sight of Harry, but that wasn’t going to distract him.
Harry snorted harshly. “If you think I will fall for a trick like that, you are mistaken.”
They were quick-witted in the question, and Harry had to admire how easily others would have fallen for such a simple ruse. Just saying his name would grant the stranger all kinds of control over his very being—let alone give the Fae his name. That would have guaranteed Harry would never make it out of here, they would have complete control over him.
A pleased smile took the place of a smirk and Harry wished that the distinction wasn’t muddying his mind.
“Then perhaps something I can call you?” The top right wing fluttered enough that it touched Harry’s shoulder. The action causing his skin to react to the magic freely flowing outward.
“Potter, that’s what you can call me,” Harry said, eyes riveted to the wing that was still touching him.
“Potter,” the Fae purred, noise rumbling around them in an unnatural way. “You can call me Malfoy.”
A distinctive heartbeat had Harry’s breath catching as he turned rapidly, eyes not ready to believe what his senses were telling him.
“I must admit, I didn’t anticipate this would be what Vampires do when they celebrate.” The silky drawl was just as pompous as it had been eighty years ago, but Harry welcomed it.
“Malfoy.” Harry watched the shimmering wings twitch as Malfoy’s second heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“You wound me,” Malfoy whispered as he took a step closer, smirk quirking up at the corners. “As if I could stay away from my favourite Vampire.”
Harry rolled his eyes as he ignored the curious looks being sent their way. “Eighty years is a long time to miss your favourite Vampire.”
“Has it been that long?” There was a mischievousness in silver eyes, and Harry hated that it was singular to Malfoy—a look he hadn’t managed to see elsewhere. “Seems like only yesterday.”
“Cease your zoilistic ways, this will do just fine.”
Draco watched the mortals argue amongst themselves. Two Witches and two Wizards. The influx of magic had first ignited his curiosity, but it was their bickering that fueled his desire to stay.
“Insult me one more time, Godric. You won’t like the outcome.”
A short jovial burst of laughter had Draco narrowing his eyes. The wizards were strange.
“Hush, the both of you. Salazar, the grounds will be sufficient. Godric, don’t bait Salazar.”
When both Wizards turned to a tall woman with hair as wild as her aura, and a smile far more genuine than Draco could remember seeing on a human, he rolled his eyes at the way their shoulders slumped.
“Aye Helga.” The man named Godric grumbled as his bottom lip extended outward and his eyes looked to the floor.
“This is supposed to be where we reside?” Salazar asked, sneer in place and a scoff following when Helga nodded curtly.
“We want to offer a haven for those who have none, Salazar. That requires space, privacy and the chance to expand. Pray tell me where you will find that in populated areas?” The unknown woman asked, hair hidden underneath a pointed hat. She stood rigidly, unlike Helga, but more in line with Salazar.
When Salazar said nothing, Godric threw his arm around Salazar’s shoulders as a hand gestured towards barren land. “I think this looks like our dreams.”
“I think it looks like our future,” Helga added, both arms stretched outwards as her smile grew larger.
“I think it looks like disappointment,” Salazar said, causing Draco to withhold a snort.
“I think it looks like we are being watched.”
“Vampires should only drink from those without magic.”
“Everyone has magic,” Malfoy contradicted, hair twirling around his arm as he turned dramatically.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Technically speaking, yes. But I meant in large quantities. Muggles are my preference.”
Malfoy’s nose wrinkled as his lips quirked dowarnd. “Such a shame. Have you ever… had.. a Fae?”
The innuendo had Harry sighing but also smiling despite himself. “No, on both counts.”
“Mmm,” Malfoy exhaled breathlessly. “That truly is a shame.”
“Are you offering?” Harry asked, both brows lifting curiously.
Harry watched Malfoy’s wings flutter rapidly, listened to the second heart thump out of sync, and braced himself for what would surely change his immediate future.
“I think that I am,” Malfoy mumbled before falling slowly in front of Harry, pale neck offered ostentatiously.
“It would be unwise to take from you.”
“Body or blood?” There was a smile in Malfoy’s tone, and Harry wished it didn’t tempt him.
“If it’s freely given, then why do you protest?”
“I have magic,” Harry admitted, the secret leaving his lips far easier than he hoped.
Malfoy bracketed his knees on either side of Harry’s lap as he arched one brow. “I know. I can taste it.”
“Taste?” Harry asked, unable to tilt his head back as Malfoy’s face loomed closer. Figuratively, escape seemed futile, but Harry wasn’t weak-willed in body or spirit--if he truly wanted to leave, Malfoy would be in for a fight.
“If I was any other Fae, I would have long ago tasted your flesh,” Malfoy whispered, second heart speeding up, the only sign that Malfoy wasn’t as in control as he portrayed.
“I do not know the call of blood as you do, but I do know the call of your magic, Potter. You would surely be a meal worth feasting, but one that soon would turn into a distant memory. I want you alive.”
Harry couldn’t look away from Malfoy’s eyes as they shifted colours minutely. “You desire my magic?”
“Your magic, your flesh, your body.”
The slightly elevated but still steady pulse had Harry biting a lip as it showed Malfoy’s honesty. There was no lie detected.
“My council would not approve.” Understatement. Their rigid old beliefs would not see eye to eye with any cohabitation. A hypocrisy, for sure.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes as his wings fluttered angrily. “You dislike your council.”
Harry wasn’t sure how Malfoy knew that, but he wasn’t going to pretend it was false. “Your people would not approve.”
