I've started to get reviews! Very encouraging reviews and I those of you who have and they really blew me away with your kind words. I really wanted to convey some serious emotion through that last chapter, yes it was only brief, but I wanted my readers to really feel the devastation Harry felt. And it was! In celebration, I decided to write another chapter. I haven't decided on pairings as of yet, but I have had some suggestions. It won't come in for a while yet, the plot has to be set first.

Warning: This could end up Slash, it might not. I am just going to see where the story takes me naturally. But you can't say I didn't warn you if something pops up later in chapters.

This most defiantly doesn't follow the Harry Potter story line.

Summary: AU, Potential DM/HP or TMR/HP. Vampire!Draco, Vampire!Harry. A collector's greatest passion is too complete their collection. An Heir's greatest wish is too impress their Father. A lonely boys greatest want is for attention and love. The Wizarding World is in a violent war against the Creatures, led by Vampires and the infamous Vampire King. One young boy has the opportunity to change the direction of the war, but when manipulation and loyalty come into question… The future becomes clouded.

I tend to switch about POV quite a bit, so be warned for that. I don't clearly label it but it's done in an obvious manner.

Italics – Harry's Thoughts.

The Body of the Beast

"How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us."

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet.

Chapter Three – The Aftermath

The streets of Godric's Hollow were chaos. The sky was lit up in startling shades of burnt orange and scarlet red as houses burned to their very foundations. Men, Women and children screamed in terrified unison as they bolted from one side of the small town to the other; desperation fuelling them to escape, yet bedlam prevented them from ever leaving alive. Blood trailed in thin rivers from the bodies of the helpless, glassy eyes turned to the heavens with a morbid hope for salvation. Indeed, the town was small; perhaps only home to a hundred at most, but the body count was steadily rising. By midnight there would be only one survivor, the-boy-who-lived.

Harry had awoken on the hard cobblestone surrounding the fountain in the town square, his neck throbbing and his eyes blurry and burning from smoke. He was confused, didn't know where he was, nor could he remember anything past running through the back door of his house. What he did know was his neck hurt, his hand couldn't feel a wound but he knew something had pierced his skin, if the dried bloody flakes were anything to go by; Yet, there didn't appear to be a wound. His mouth tasted of metal too, perhaps he had bitten it in shock when he was apparently attacked? Or fallen down, that was more likely with his sense of balance.

It was with a terrified realization that Harry understood he was currently in the middle of a war zone. He had run away from home and straight into an attack by the enemy. Stupid, stupid, STUPID! The whole thing had been a diversion from the real attack, that was a first. They normally only staged one attack after the other, but it looked like their war tactics had had a little bit of a spring clean. Upping the game and all that. Realizing battle strategy at last, not good!

Harry stumbled to his feet and ran back the way he came, Vampires feasting on the crying bodies of the innocent everywhere he looked. They didn't seem to pay him any attention and for that he was thankful. The attack did seem to be in its final few minutes, so maybe he would make it back to the house without anything jumping him on the way. That would be nice and it really would be the luck that he needed. The luck that I never seem to get, come on just this one time!

The back door was in sight and still open a crack from when he had left. The house didn't seem to have been targeted. For the first time, Harry was happy they lived on the outskirts. It looked as if that was what had saved it. Turning around, Harry saw the fire and smoke rising above the thin trees, a morbid reminder of the destruction just beyond. It was not the time to be outdoors.

The young Potter heir slammed the door behind himself as soon as he stumbled in through the boundary. He didn't really know what to do, who to turn to, they were all at the other battle. He was hyperventilating and could already feel his head spinning. What do I do! We never planned for this, there is no sodding PLAN! Who doesn't make a family strategy!

Harry made his way toward the kitchen table and pulled out a chair before slipping underneath its surface. The only thing he could do was pray that his parents would return and save him. Maybe realize that the whole fight was just a diversion ploy and return home; Werewolves were mouthy gits, so it was highly likely one of them blabbed as they battled the Aurors.

Maybe someone raised the alarm in the Hollow too. These people were Wizards mostly, the Flo only took a matter of seconds to connect. Worried family members and friends would most certainly get in contact with the authorities and send help.

He felt so tired, so achy. His whole body felt as if he had taken a tumble from a high-flying broom. It worried him that he couldn't recall how he had ended up on the ground, covered in blood yet not a single wound to find. Not to mention it was in the middle of a Vampire attack—

A Vampire attack.

He had had no wound, yet had obviously had an injury at some point… maybe that meant he had been—NO! He was fine, he had just been hit by the blood flying from the attackers as he lay passed out on the cold stone or tripped over his two left feet and slammed his heard on the pale stone of the squares epic centrepiece. His wound could be hidden underneath his mop of unruly black hair. Of course, he was fine. He had not been bitten. I'm fine, nothing to panic over. Nothing to absolutely freak out about!

It was common knowledge across Wizarding Britain that Vampires only turned the most powerful and influential individuals they found, to which he was neither. Muggles could not be turned, a blessing some would say. But magickals could be turned by ingesting the blood of an ancient Vampire while blood was taken in return. The Ancients were few, while their Army of underlings was many. If one included the Vampire King, there was perhaps only a handful of Vampires old enough to turn a Witch or Wizard; The turning normally occurred during a gory group ritual in an undisclosed location every few months. Or so his Father had told him when the Aurors were called in to clean up the… aftermath. The transformation was known to take several weeks, beginning subtly before accelerating. Some did not survive the turning, their magic perhaps not as strong as the ancient once believed. Their rotting corpse would be found several days after the ceremony had ended, and the other successful turns would be taken to a safe house to continue their change and eventually learn the ropes of war. And after all that the new-borns would be released to fight for the Dark.

Only a few new Vampire's would reject the bloodlust and constant cravings toward violence. If they rejected it and escaped the stronghold, they became some of the Lights strongest troops, fighting their very natures every second of every day. There was always more Werewolves on the light side than Vampires…No one really knew why. Maybe it's because Vampires live with their instincts every day. Werewolves only have to deal with it once a month. It would make sense that it would be easier to change sides for them.

"HARRY! HARRY, WHERE ARE YOU?... ANSWER ME!"

It was his Father! They had come back for him. Harry hadn't even heard the Flo go, his thoughts so troubled that they had distracted him. Inside his chest, the boys heart swelled with relief.

"M'here, Dad." Merlin, I sound pathetic.

There was no time to contemplate his weak disposition, as he was located and pulled from underneath the table and into strong arms covered in thick red material. It felt so nice to be held in his Father's arms after the night he had had. First came the disappointment, then came the blackout and fear. This was the comfort he wanted and he would be okay if it never stopped.

"Are you hurt? You don't look hurt… but the blood! The house doesn't look like it was hit, how-?" Good old, Dad. Always so concise with his parental questioning.

"I…I went for a walk. I saw the flames and I panicked. I ran, but I must have fallen over. I don't remember much after that but I don't think they saw me. I could hear screaming and the smoke… it suffocated me. It just came from everywhere. I'm sorry... I was just so upset." Why was he lying? The words just came so naturally to his lips, that he almost believed it if he hadn't known better. Obviously, there was major blanks in his memory but the story just didn't feel real. Harry didn't know what happened, maybe he should just tell them that. "I, ugh, I didn't see who attacked us but I knew I needed to get back to the house. It seemed the safest option, especially when I saw it looked safe. Finally granted some of that luck I so desperately wanted, huh?" Okay, that didn't go to plan.

An awkward laugh permeated the sudden silence, followed by several relieved sighs. Lily had joined them in a hug half way through the story, warm breath fanning her son's cheek during her quite sobs. Harry could taste… could taste guilt on the air and his brows furrowed in confusion. Since when could I do this… This is weird?

"It's okay, baby. We're here now. We should never have left you alone, we were so stupid" Lily mumbled into his hair.

"You didn't know, Mum. How could anybody know they would attack the Hollow. It was one in a million."

"I know, sweetie, I know. But we shouldn't have left you. I can't believe we just left you!"

Lily was right. Parents should never leave their children alone during a War. Anything could happen at any given moment. Attacks could pop up anyplace and to leave their kid alone could potentially end in their violent death. He was angry, angry at being cast aside so quickly in the face of battle. How could they forget about him so easily! He should have come before all else, not their job. He couldn't reply, least his Mother hear the contempt in his voice.

Harry had always worn his heart on his sleeve, but it felt like it was about time to stop that sort of behaviour. His emotions were all over the place, fluctuating from one feeling to the next in quick succession. He didn't know which was stronger… The overwhelming sadness or disdain.

"It's okay now, son. We're here now."

Harry supposed that statement was supposed to bring him relief. It didn't. It just didn't feel like it was enough anymore. He felt strange, almost detached from the whole situation now. He could still taste their emotions in the air and it was smothering him much like the smoke had done previously. It didn't matter that it was new to him, his senses couldn't handle it. Couldn't take the avalanche of emotions hitting him from both sides.

"I… I don't feel so good" he murmured before abruptly fainting into his Parent's embrace. Manly, Harry…Very manly, was his last thought.

When the youngest Potter finally came too, Daylight shone through the windows of his room. His room at Grimmauld Place. He was at his Godfathers house. That was understandable, since his home was no longer safe. Vampire attack and all. This time however, he recalled the events leading up to his awakening. How he had fainted into his Father's embrace. If anyone brought it up, he would be quick to silence them from repeating it to another living soul.

Everything appeared sharper than usual. Harry had perfect vision before but it looked as if everything was in hyper focus. In fact, the boy was almost certain he could see the individual flecks of dust spiralling around his head. It was beautiful, well as beautiful as dust could be. But most of all it fascinated him. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight.

That was the reason, that once again, Harry never heard his parents enter the room. It was only the smell of concern and anguish that made him snap to attention and look away from the orbs floating in front of his face. The smell-o-sensation-thingy hadn't gone away then, it could be handy in the long run. But still unusual all the same. Coupled with this improved vision… Harry's worry over the events of the previous night were starting to become a disturbing reality.

"Hi" he mumbled from between the covers, not willing to remove himself from his blanket cocoon. Not to mention the fact that the light was starting to hurt his eyes.

"Morning, honey. How are you feeling?"

I feel like shyte and I seem to have gained super senses overnight. I think I could have actually been bitten by a Vampire but I can't tell you that cause you'll cry and things will just go to crap. "I'm feel fine" he replied instead, choosing to placate his Mother. Better that than panic her.

"Good. We were so worried. Ya must have knocked your head pretty hard. Couldn't find a cut, though. It's the Potter hair that saved you from a corker of a slash!"

"Doesn't explain where the blood came from…" Lily commented slyly to her husband, her eyes sad but suspicious.

"It wasn't mine!" Harry blurted, "It was from the…from the people who…" Maybe he had learned something from his Father after all, because Lily rushed forward in a bumble of Motherly panic and embraced her baby right into her bosom. "M'm I ne'd t- breat…"

"SORRY! I'm sorry. I'm just so glad you were hurt. Everyone else they…They were murdered. Three were taken but everyone else— "

"It's okay, Mum. We don't have to talk about it. I'm fine. I survived."

And he had. By some miracle, he had lived. The alternative explanation was just too much to bare. Something he just couldn't face. Because if it was true, he didn't want to turn. To be anything else than he already was. Harry was a top of the class student, a Prefect and one of the most popular guys in school Yes, he had his fights with Malfoy but really it was only with him. Everything else in his life, baring his pathetic excuse for a home life, was just how he wanted it. Things couldn't change now. Harry didn't know how he would be after the transformation… If he would be the same person. Maybe he wouldn't be strong enough to keep to his morals. It was known to be hard and the new instincts would drive most Light Witches and Wizards into the arms of the Dark. Did he have it in him to be good? Even in the face of a completely different nature?

I don't want to think about this.

"I'm actually still kind of tired, do you guys mind if I sleep a bit longer?"

"Not at all, champ. You sleep for as long as you need. You've been through a lot, practically an honorary Auror now." Was James comic relief. Always one for the hilarity.

"Thanks… well, good night? Or good afternoon, I guess."

His parents left with a short backwards glance. Any suspicion had been temporary abated. Now he would sleep and hopefully wake up feeling refreshed and… human.

Next time… Harry is questioned over the attack.