.: nine :.
AMATORY ASSISTANCE

"I saw him, my Lord," said a hunched figure, a man dressed in the richest of crimson cloaks. They all wore them, were all shrouded in blood-coloured shrouds that hid their identities. Draco could not help but realise that if they chose such garish, bright colours for their disguises, they weren't worried about attracting attention. Whoever, whatever they were, they could handle anything that discovered them.

That includes us, Draco thought, looking to Harry, who looked as if he was having the same thought. The dark-haired saviour's heart was thudding hard, his breath coming out in raspy pants. Draco reached through the darkness of their hiding place and pressed his hand to Harry's chest, pressing gently to let him know to control the frantic pounding of both. Those green eyes locked with his, glistening in the darkness, and slowly, he heard both that pulse and that breath lull into a gentle, quiet rhythm. He withdrew his hand silently.

They were both on the same page here, they knew that they could not so much as utter a word. If these were supernatural beings they would hear even a loud breath. But whatever they were, they didn't look like wolves, or anything that could howl, for that matter.

Then, a flash of crimson eyes caught his attention, just beyond the circle of cloaked creatures. A handful of otherworldly beasts sat at their feet, shaped like canines but broadly muscled and furred with smouldering red eyes. A mouthful of ice-white fangs were visible from the way they sat panting, slavering at their masters' feet. They were the source of the howling, whatever they were. Terrifying beasts in their own right. So what kind of magic and power must their cloaked masters wield if they could so easily subdue them?

"I saw the youngling and the Chosen One wrapped around each other like a constrictor's embrace with its prey. Our suspicions are most assuredly true," the first figure continued, bowing slightly to the tallest, slim creature. This one gave a light nod of comprehension and his words that followed were in a thick, guttural, animalistic growl of a voice.

It was obvious that he was no ordinary man.

"As I suspected. The boy must be his First, otherwise such a young one would not be able to endure the proximity of so many ripe young bodies. He is…almost human. He would not have been able to resist when we called to him unless his allegiance was already indebted to the boy. Yes, he most definitely has a First."

"Do you believe the First is likely to take advantage of his devotion?" a third creature asked of the leader, he too, slightly bowed as he addressed him. "Perhaps use him as a weapon against us? And a formidable one at that."

Draco looked to Harry out of the corner of his eye at that. He wondered not only what Harry thought of that accusation, but also what kind of 'people' would be wary of such a thing. Why would they be concerned of what Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's bane might use his vampire for? His vampire. Rather than off-put by that thought, he felt a rush of arousal and possessiveness curl up in his stomach. He rather liked the idea of being Harry's, it meant that, in turn, Harry was his.

"That Caius Alaric, he informed us that the Potter boy was a foolishly good-hearted little fop whose only real danger was to his own self, his own naivety," the leader reminded them. Draco felt Harry tense at his side. He reached out, laying his hand on Harry's in an attempt to ease the surge of anger that had risen in his pulse. But Harry snatched his hand away sharply.

"I doubt that Potter will cause us any trouble, but still…we did not survive this long by making assumptions based on transparent information divulged by a traitor," the leader said, reaching down to card his tapered, long fingernails through the fur atop his pet's head. The beast bowed slightly but allowed the contact, its eyes glowing ferociously.

It looked oddly like Greyback when he was transformed, Draco thought. Merlin knew, he had seen that enough times when the wolf was his tormentor back in the dungeon. Only more…compact he supposed was the word. Lean with more powerful upper muscles, fur of the blackest night and more wolf than man-wolf.

Draco narrowed his gaze it was almost like a creature bred specifically to serve them. Except he had never heard of anything like that in any of the literature or history surrounding vampires. He'd have to consult Severus as soon as they got back to the castle.

"I will not put ourselves at risk by merely accepting the word of the pet of Lucan Vesper. He is volatile and works only for his own goals, let him think we have aligned ourselves with him but we will not trust him as far as a youngling could throw him," the leader concluded, reassuring his followers before looking to the second vampire that seemed the most cowed.

"What does he mean?" Harry whispered directly into Draco's hear, so that his words were but a flicker on the breeze. "Who is Lucan Vesper? Why are they saying Alaric is his pet?"

Draco himself was confused. That name, Lucan Vesper, it was like a familiar glint. A glimpse of his past similar to the flashes of déjà vu one might have when encountering a childhood friend or… Or a flicker of something from my human life, something important and yet insignificant, all at once…

Suddenly, the creature closest to the leader slunk forwards like a hunting hound onto a scent. Its gleaming crimson eyes, as rich as the cloak of its master were staring directly at Harry and Draco. Draco's eyes went wide, his hand snatching up Harry's and refusing to release him even as he struggled to tear free. Then, a low growl ripped from that muzzle, which now tightened menacingly. White, sharp fangs came closer, closer and Harry went suddenly still beside him, his other hand holding out his wand before him. That hand, no, that entire arm was shaking. Draco was sure he would be shaking were he capable of such any longer. But he was definitely afraid, just as afraid as Harry. He might even tell him so, if they hadn't had bigger problems stalking towards them, faster now.

"Climb onto my back," Draco commanded under his breath. Harry didn't look at him, but he did not scramble to agree either.

"I'm not a child. I can fight–"

"Now is not the time for heroics," Draco cut across him, his words as quiet and sharp as a viper's hiss. "What that thing said was essentially true. I am your weapon, you give me blood and I give you myself. Use me you fool!"

Harry visibly recoiled from the notion, trying to shy away but Draco pulled him tight to his chest. They had mere seconds before that brutish pack of demon hounds tore through the bushes to get to them. "I can't – I'm not like that. I won't do that!" Harry retorted. "I don't want you to give yourself to me."

"If you use the kind of magic you will need to escape this alive, you will die you pillock," Draco cursed him, yanking Harry hard to him with unyielding, vampire strength. "Let me get you out of this. Do you want to bloody well die here?!"

Like a body tightening for an oncoming blow, Harry's entire form clenched in response to Draco's words. Draco watched his jaw quivering with the force in which he was grinding his teeth. Then he heard Potter utter hurriedly, "I don't want to die. Get me out of here."

When no further argument came from Potter, he shot forwards. With vampire speed, he seized those arms, tightening them around his neck. He hoisted the chosen one onto his back and leapt from the bushes in one a sharp, lightning fast movement. The leaves flew wildly away as he darted through the trees, scarcely touching the ground. A grunt in his ear told him Potter was less than happy with the position, but the man was not stupid enough to fight it. Not with heavy, inhuman footsteps pounding on the soft earth close behind them.

It was entirely the wrong situation to notice how hot Harry's body was against his back, how tightly his strong thighs gripped his waist. How indignant every panting breath he made against Draco's ear sounded – he hated relying on him, it was clear. Harry Potter loathed to allow anyone control over him. Draco would relish in showing him just how blissful losing control could be.

But not now.

Now fingers bit into his shoulders, Harry's tight grip alerting him to the rapid rate of which the hellish hounds were gaining on them. Five slobbering beasts snapping at their heels. Draco hadn't even realised until then, but he'd been running, dodging the army of trees' branches lashing out at them – and without even thinking! His vampire abilities were definitely growing. Breaking into a grin, he pushed forward, forcing his body to its limit. The wind whistled as he flew through the maze of the forest, conscious of Harry lowering himself as flat to Draco's back as he could go. He was afraid Draco might hit something, no doubt. Draco's grin broadened. He would never do something as clumsy and…human, not ever again. For the first time, he felt unburdened by his change, he felt…exhilarated. Invincible!

He was strong. He was fast. Faster than whatever those animals were. He wasn't human anymore, no. He was better!

Rain beat down hard upon his body as he broke free of the trees. Their branches lashed forwards with the force of the wind, as if trying to ensnare them and draw them back. Harry's legs squeezed him harder as a branch whipped across their sides, narrowly missing them. Draco dodged it easily. He was too fast. And this wasn't even about impressing Potter with his abilities either. Well, not entirely, a very small voice in the back of his mind whispered. He was free of the heavy self-loathing at last, free of the burden of what he might never be. Because now, he would be better than whatever he might have achieved before.

A chorus of howls filled the air from a fair distance now. Thunder pounded in almost unison with lightning, a terrifyingly fantastic percussion to the haunting melody of baying. Draco was aware of everything. He could sense everything, and even the rain, the wind, Harry's uncomfortable tight grip on him, even the fear thudding in his slow-beating heart thrilled him. He was powerful, his curse had become a gift in the face of terror.

Suddenly a snarl, far too near for comfort sliced through his ears and before he could turn, he felt the hard, supernatural strength of one of the beasts barrel into his legs. He dropped and felt more than saw Harry slam into the ground a few feet from him. Rolling back onto the balls of his feet, Draco's head snapped up just in time to see the creature that had attacked him arch its back threateningly as it approached Harry.

To his credit, his First didn't stay down long. Draco watched as Harry scrambled gracelessly to right himself. Those green eyes were wide with fear but also determination, determination to survive. He had seen it before, but never with eyes that saw everything this clearly. He could see the courage burning like fire in every brownish fleck of those emerald orbs.

Harry's hand dove into his robes, returning brandishing his wand before him, as if to ward off the beast. It kept coming. Its head bowed menacingly at the sight of the wand, its fangs were bared, gnashing together with a thick trail of spittle diving to the ground as it stalked closer. To Draco's surprise, Harry merely smirked.

"I killed a bloody basilisk," he snarled, "I'm not afraid of you."

For the first time, Draco understood what Harry meant when he said things like that. He could taste Harry's fear, hear it thundering through his heart, but it did not affect him, did not rule him as it ruled others.

Not even when the howling ceased, replaced by growling, raspy canine pants all around them. The other four 'wolves' had caught up. Harry wielded his wand before him like a sword and shield all at once, like it was all he had left to defend himself with. Draco rolled onto his toes, ready to pounce. He's already forgotten that he has me.

The world whirled into slow motion then, the hounds were in a circle around them, but it was the one directly in front of Harry that lunged. Draco's eyes widened, he already saw that Harry's arm was at the wrong angle, his lips moving too slowly to finish the spell in time. Those fangs perilously close to that delicate flesh. Hellhound, werewolf or other supernatural beast, there was no way in hell those teeth would pierce that flesh.

An unnatural roar ripped through his lips. He leapt forwards, seizing those gaping jaws with his bare hands, just as they would have snapped shut around Harry's arm. Harry scrambled back, his eyes wide as he stared frantically at the place where Draco's hands were holding open that powerful maw, despite the jagged teeth tearing into his skin. Draco felt it alright, it hurt like fuck but pain didn't rule him as it once had. Just like fear did not rule Harry.

Biting through the stinging agony, Draco, sank his nails into the beast's chops, bearing down until he heard a satisfying yelp of pain. The sound of movement behind him, of grass bending under powerful paws reminded him of the others and he spun on his heel, tossing the one in his grasp into the horde, scattering them like ants. Dropping down on all fours then, he bared his fangs, putting himself between them and Harry.

They were circling again, like a pack of hyenas, growling forebodingly. He had felt the power of that one hound with his own hands, literally. He could handle one, maybe two without getting a scratch on him, but he couldn't protect himself and Harry from all five of them. And until we know what they are, I have to keep them from scratching or biting Harry at all costs, he thought, his bloodied hands healing as they gripped the ground for purchase. They would have to go through him to get to Harry.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what they seemed intent on doing. Their haunches tightened, the ground bowing under their feet as they readied to pounce. Draco leant further forwards, feeling the way his eyes burned a bright, caveat silver and the most otherworldly snarl vibrated through his own lips. He felt Harry tense behind him, but the most interesting thing, was that the wolves paused at the sound of it.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and Draco whipped his head to the side. A few, crimson shapes had emerged from the trees and the wolves, startlingly, bowed their bodies obediently, like cowed lapdogs and flew back to their masters.

Not yet easing from his battle stance, Draco watched them gather by the forest's edge. Why did they not approach? Why had they called off their hounds? He strained his heightened senses but could not detect their words over the loudness of the storm; instead he focused his keen sight on the figures. Yet still, it was impossible to decipher why they had given up in the chase. Draco knew he was fast but he knew that the cloaked beings must have been too. Perhaps faster – stronger. They certainly didn't smell human, whatever they were. He would have to work on interpreting the smells of individual species, and fast.

"Why are they stopping?" Harry asked, staggering to his feet. Without even tearing his eyes off of the figures by the trees, Draco knew Harry was edging back away from him. Standing up himself, Draco held an arm out, silently bidding Harry to pause. Those things, they hadn't given in the chase so easily for no reason, so then, why?

"Stop fidgeting, Harry," Draco snapped then, bristled by the fact that Harry seemed desperate to put some distance between them suddenly. Because of the way he'd acted? Because of his animalistic outburst in an attempt to protect him? He clenched his healed hands into tight fists. That wouldn't do. They'd crossed a line tonight, they'd come closer than ever before. He wouldn't have that undone. Would not allow Harry to retreat now.

"You needn't be afraid of me," Draco began, only to end up confused at the sight of Harry's expression.

"I'm not," the man said bluntly, "I just don't want them to get any ideas about–"

"Potter! Malfoy!" A familiarly commanding voice called to them. Harry whirled on his spot and looked back up at the handful of teachers sprinting across the ground towards them. Hagrid, Flitwick, Sprout, Snape and Professor McGonagall, whose voice had called to them were all racing towards them, wands drawn. So that was what had Harry so skittish. And perhaps what caused those things to retreat. Yes, they probably didn't much like being faced with even numbers, for behind the professors was a hoard of intrigued students. They had heard the noise, Draco realised, the howling was a piercing sound that could not have been overlooked or mistaken – regardless of the storm.

"What on earth is going on? What was that…that horrendous sound?" McGonagall demanded as she and the professors reached them. The students hung back a fair way, close enough to see but far enough not to be in range of any danger. Like a band of vultures eager to witness a kill.

Severus gave both Harry and Draco an assessing glance, evidently relieved that they were unscathed. "There's something in the forest," Harry blurted out as Draco remained silent. "Not the normal kind of 'something' either, they were…" Draco saw him glance at him out of the corner of his eye, as if silently seeking permission to speak. Draco remained impassive. Harry continued hastily, "They were wearing red cloaks and these …wolves. I don't know what they were but they were fast!"

McGonagall surveyed them both critically for a fleeting moment, before looking to the edge of the forest. The danger had vanished into the cover of trees. "They didn't harm either of you, did they?" Both Harry and Draco shook their heads.

"I thought that the wards of Hogwarts fought to keep intruders out?" Draco snapped then. If Potter was too polite to state the obvious, that everyone in this school was in danger, then he would. "This is a school. It is meant to be safe but those things chased us half way up the grounds! How was it that they slipped past the wards?"

McGonagall pursed her lips, evidently disliking his insulting tone. "You may be a legal adult but as it is, you are also still a student. Therefore, I would be careful to talk to your headmistress and teacher with respect," she warned him.

Respect is earned, however, not given, Draco thought. And incompetence was something no Malfoy could tolerate well. "A headmistress that can't even keep her students safe. And I thought Dumbledore was a pitiful school head…"

"You speak of the dead with respect, young man!" Sprout scolded. Draco opened his mouth to retort hotly but at the last moment, he caught Severus's expression and swallowed his words, turning his head away.

"Nevertheless," McGonagall said when Draco had fallen silent. "I will ensure that the wards are strengthened. Every precaution has been taken against a human of course but magical beings and creatures often find loopholes in the wards. We shall have to cement them against non-humans as best we can." She looked hard at Draco, as if daring him to make further comment. But Draco didn't even return her stare.

No, he was quite distracted by the words he had heard back in that forest now that the more imminent danger had diminished. His mind had begun to swim with recognition at the mention of Alaric being some Lucan Vesper's pet. Lucan Vesper. He remembered that name! He was certain of it! He'd definitely heard it before now…

"We'll search the grounds," Hagrid suggested, "secure the castle fer now an' get all the students inside until we can be certain it's safe like." Harry looked up to his large friend then, offering a smile. Draco didn't like that. How Harry could find a smile so easily for such a brainless oaf and yet…

He steeled himself against the jealousy and hunger for Harry Potter. Certainly, his very nature and connection to him ensured he would feel these things for the Chosen One, but that did not mean he had to allow the emotions to rule him. No, he had evolved. He was strong now, he had to compose himself as such. It would be disadvantageous to allow Harry to see just how intense his emotions were, in any case. He may be dead but he had some pride. A lot, if truth be told.

"I will want you to tell me in more detail later, what you saw," McGonagall continued, scanning the sodden grounds warily. "For now, however, I need you and the other students to return to the castle. It is not safe out here in the open."

Harry, Draco noted, nodded respectfully and hurried to obey, but he did not get far.

"I require a moment with both yourself and Mr Malfoy, however, Mr Potter," Severus cut in, "I will see you both outside the Hospital Wing in ten minutes."

Draco watched Harry's brow furrow for a moment, before his face dawned with badly concealed comprehension. He, Draco, had not been the only one to forget the potion for Granger until then, it seemed. He followed Harry in, ignoring the whispers and stares from their fellow students as they did so. On reaching the door, he gave a final glance back to the forest, but he couldn't see even a trace of the wolves or their cloaked masters. They were gone, for now at least. Draco couldn't help but realise they would return, and he only hoped that he could decipher what he and Harry had overheard before then. They needed to be ready for them in every way possible.

Struggling to calm his breaths and his racing, tumult of thoughts, Harry mingled with the flow of the crowd until he reached the corridor leading to the Hospital Wing and then he slipped sideways, stopping just in the alcove formed by the brickwork near the Hospital Wing door. It was only when a shadow fell over him that he realised Malfoy had kept so close to him.

Harry closed his eyes, catching his breath. His pace on the way here had been faster than perhaps was normal. But then, nothing about the last few days was normal. Hermione was in some kind of trouble. So was Malfoy and now these cloaked demons with hellish dogs as pets…

A low sigh left Harry's lips and he tipped his head back, finally realising he could not put it off any longer. He met Malfoy's gaze. Those grey eyes were lidded with that same intensity that Harry was familiar with by now. The familiarity did not stop his stomach from clenching at the sight of it, however. "What were those things?" Harry asked when he'd found his voice. Though it was not as strong as he'd like. "Not the wolves the cloaked men," he added. "And what did they mean about Alaric? What is he? Who is this Lucius Vester?"

"Lucan Vesper," Draco corrected carefully, "and I do not know the answers. I had thought that once Granger had her potion, we could discover that together." He was accustomed to watching Harry closely now, his eyes dropping every now and then to rove Harry's throat, mouth and chest. The dark-haired man felt his innards twist, not at all unpleasantly. A light flush touched his face and he straightened up further as if gaining a few inches would dissipate the affect Malfoy had on him.

"We? Together? Us?" Harry repeated. "Listen, I think you should know. I don't want the kind of arrangement you mentioned down in the forest. I don't want to have some sort of servant in return for my blood. I'm not a master or a lord or… I just want to be myself without anyone trying to change me."

A smile played along the pale line of Malfoy's lips. "I'm not trying to change you; on the contrary, I'm probably the only suitor you can trust wants you for who you are, flaws and all. I believe we've discussed this before."

Harry sighed again, glancing away. He did know that of course, and he suspected it was at least a little true. Malfoy had seen the ugliest sides of him over the years, and most recently been privy to some of his most loathed bad qualities. He could be under no illusions as to who or what Harry was, and yet he still insisted on pressing closer and closer. "I know," Potter agreed at last. "And so you have to understand how little having a vampire guard dog appeals to me."

A low snarl rumbled in Malfoy's chest then, his eyes darkening. "I am no dog," Malfoy retorted.

"Well you're not my bloody 'suitor' either," Harry snapped back. "I'm not a fair maiden for you to woo, or something. I have no interest in being courted like a fickle princess."

Malfoy pressed closer, caging Harry in by setting his hands either side of his head on the wall. His long fingers dug into the stone in release of his anger, the same anger that swirled in thick clouds in those stormy grey eyes. "You're twisting everything I say. Grasping at straws yet again. Do not make me into an enemy just so you can find reason to fault this." He punctuated the final word by inhaling the dark locks at Harry's ear, one hand dancing over Harry's heart which was pounding frantically with fury. And no little arousal.

"You should have guessed from that kiss we shared earlier, but I am not looking to be your pet or guard. I'm looking to be your lover. Lovers protect and help each other. It has nothing to do with being a vampire or you being my first and everything to do with how bloody brilliant we both feel when we're together."

"Just because it feels good, just because you want me for me, that doesn't mean that this is right. It doesn't mean that I want this," Harry argued heatedly. He didn't like Malfoy's assumptions that he was closer to Harry than he really was, than he possibly could be given the short amount of time they'd known each other amicably.

"I made you feel so good that you came in your trousers," Malfoy reminded him huskily. "You're always looking at me. You care whether or not I die, whether or not I'm in pain. You practically blush every time I come near you. I'd say that means you want me quite a lot." Malfoy's eyes were shining as he reasoned with him. It was the same situation, the same argument.

He's persistent, Harry thought, I'll give him that.

"Arrogant arse," Harry sniped. "You could at least pretend to be a bit less self-assured. A bit less certain that I want you."

Malfoy chuckled. "Oh, but you prefer honesty, I know you well-enough to know that, among other things. This is me, Harry, I'm not pretending to be anything other than what I am." His nose brushed against a lock of Harry's hair, just slightly, but it was a subtle, seductive enough touch to send an instinctual shiver through Harry's body. It was then that Malfoy's hand slid down to grasp his hip.

Harry glared up at him. No one in all his life had ever gone to so much trouble, paid so much attention to him without wanting something substantial or immoral in return. No one. "You don't know me as well as you'd like to think. And this may be you, but you're certainly after something dishonest. You can't be going to all this trouble to get closer to me, to help me just because you want me. You're too sneaky for that to simply be it."

"I'm flattered," Malfoy mused, his voice deep and heavy with lust. "But I have more to gain by being honest, since it's a ridiculously moral little gryffindor I'm seducing."

With a growl, Harry shoved at Malfoy's chest, trying to get him to back off, to get those lips away from his face and that hand away from his waist. Both were alarmingly close to parts of his body that were vulnerable to pleasure. The hot, insatiable kind that would riddle his mind with uncertainty. "Stop saying things like that. I'm not your lover! Lover implies love!"

"Not at first," Malfoy argued, his voice frustratingly smooth. "That can come later. Right now I think you like me enough to give me a try though." Harry opened his mouth to retort that he absolutely did not when Malfoy cut him off with, "don't lie, Harry. I can smell how your pulse speeds up when you do."

A grunt of defeat left Harry's lips and he twisted his face out of Malfoy's grasp when the vampire tried to grasp his chin. He supposed if Malfoy was being honest with him because he wanted it, Harry would be a hypocrite to not give him the same courtesy. "So I might like you, a very small amount," he admitted. "You understand things my friends never will, and you tell me what I need to hear rather than what I might want to hear. You want Harry not the chosen one, I can't help but like that but that's a far cry from being your bloody boyfriend, you git."

Malfoy laughed again, though the sound was oddly imbued with affection as opposed to derisiveness. "I think it's a good place to start, to at least try. You're cutting your nose off to spite your face by not even trying, and all for the sake of your pride."

"Huh, says you?! The king of toffee-nosed, stuck-up arrogance?!" Harry scoffed. "Bloody hypocrite."

"I believe I have sacrificed a great deal of my 'pride' over the last few weeks. Given everything I have said and done to you. For you."

Harry slumped a little. Malfoy was right in that aspect; he had surrendered much of his front recently. Whereas he, Harry was frantically clawing at any ridiculous reason to keep it. Even if rationally, it might be more practical to let it go. A long sigh left him then, his whole body deflating as his ire was banished by reason. "I like you. I don't know that I care about you like a boyfriend."

Draco gave him a smile that made Harry realise just how immature and naive that had sounded, but the blond did not verbally taunt him on the matter. Quite the opposite, he seemed oddly pleased with the statement. For some reason. "I think you know better than not to try though, hm?"

Harry met his eyes with something outside of a challenge then. Something ordinary, human. Draco – Malfoy his mind corrected insistently, had pushed through his barriers, his defences and made him feel that. He wasn't sure he liked the determination the blond had to get him. He seemed so set on him, like a gift he just had to have and still, Harry couldn't fathom why, even after all Malfoy's explanations from before. They didn't seem valid enough reasons for this desperate yearning for him. But rationally, he supposed as long as Malfoy liked him enough, it shouldn't really concern him, should it? He couldn't spend the rest of his life second-guessing and suspecting everything to be a disaster or an evil plot waiting to come about…

"I can't make this kind of decision now. Not with Hermione so…" Harry trailed off, blinking hard. "I appreciate all you've done. But can we talk about this later?"

Draco's expression was then touched by a look that was a cross between desire and amusement. "Of course, given that until Granger is healed you will not offer me and the conversation your full attention. Which is simply unacceptable."

Harry winced at that. Irritated. "I don't like that kind of possessiveness. Even if I were your…your boyfriend, it wouldn't mean you owned me or that you could control me. Just so that you know now, if you try to control me I'll shove you away and you won't get a second chance. If I… I'm trusting you not to completely bollocks it up and turn back into an arsehole."

With a laugh, Dra– Malfoy leant in to touch their noses together, his hands knotting in Harry's tie, tugging him close. "It's in my best interest for you to trust me. Why would I work so hard to earn it only to piss it away?"

Grunting out a non-committal noise, Harry tried to turn his head a fraction to avoid touching Malfoy. All the action did was to invite Malfoy's lips to his own, that mouth ghosting over his in an almost-kiss. He inhaled sharply. "We're out in the open," he muttered hurriedly, his entire sentence one abrupt breath. "Someone will see…"

"When I'm this close," Malfoy replied heatedly, "I don't care. It's not as taboo in the wizarding world as in the muggle world, you realise. No one will blink an eye at two men kissing–"

"But they will at you and me kissing!" Harry insisted. "I don't lap up attention like you do. You'd probably love to be in the Prophet snogging the 'Chosen One', but I'm more private than that. That's another thing you need to know and respect if you want me to give you as much as a chance!"

"You fly off the handle very easy, you know. You've got an awful tempter," Malfoy smirked then, a brief flicker of affection. It was the only warning that Harry had before Malfoy pressed in for a swift kiss. Their lips touched but for a moment before Malfoy stepped back from Harry, making a more respectful gap between them.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the echoing sounds of footsteps from further on up the corridor. There was Snape, rounding the corner and walking towards them, his robes billowing about him with the brusqueness of his pace. When he reached them, he gave both Malfoy and then Harry's flushed expression an odd look, before gesturing for them to follow him inside. That was it, the potions master did not say a word until the door of the hospital wing had closed behind all three of them quietly.

"I would have thought that given everything you both have endured at so young an age, you would have valued your lives more," Snape bit out, whirling around to face them, his voice low and venomous. "After over seven years, are you still unable to comprehend that the forest is off limits for good reason? Neither of you are above the rules. Neither of you are invincible. When will you ever understand that?!"

Harry flinched at that tone, accustomed to the anger but not the source of it – concern. Malfoy, however, merely scoffed at the scolding. "What do you fear will happen to me?" He returned bitterly. "Are you afraid I will die? The worst thing that could possibly happen to me already has. And I'm turning it to my own advantages. I'm faster, stronger than–"

"So you are suicidal now?" Snape demanded heatedly, drawing in close to them both like a vulture. "I never thought you capable of such stupidity, Draco. Always arrogant but never as foolish as to believe yourself indestructible. There are many a beast out there that can still kill you."

Harry watched as Malfoy shifted uncomfortably under Snape's wrath. The potions master was like a parent to him, he supposed, it was only natural that a scolding made him feel a sense of shame.

Harry could relate to that and he could even understand what Snape was saying. He, Harry himself had complained that he was never allowed a break, that he was always expected to throw himself into harm's way. Always the sacrifice. And yet he had jumped in himself down there, into the forest. He hadn't had to, but he'd charged forwards regardless, without considering the possibilities. His face must have reflected his epiphany because the potions master was looking at him now thoughtfully.

I really must think I'm the only man for the job, Harry thought. I subconsciously throw myself into danger when it might not be the best idea. What good did I do down there? What did I offer except a distraction? He couldn't for the life of him realise just when he'd come to think of himself as this almighty saviour, but he didn't like the thought of it. He was tired of being the hero. He wanted to be Harry now, but how could he be that? How could he blame people for throwing him out as a sacrifice when he subconsciously did it himself anyway?

I'm destroying any chance of a real life, one beyond destroying Voldemort, Harry thought. I'll live a very short, very miserable life if I don't start living for myself, instead of the next villain.

Looking up to Snape, Harry forced himself to meet those black, tumultuous eyes. "I never meant to get myself involved in even more evil," he heard himself say quietly, feeling quite detached from the words leaving his lips. "I just want the chance to live my life in peace. I don't want anymore adventures or dark lords…"

"Perhaps next time you will remember that before throwing yourself into the throng, Potter," Snape replied sharply. Harry took that on the head. It was no more than he deserved. He'd been whining about how unfair his life was, but recently, he'd been doing it to himself.

"I didn't think, I just… When I thought someone could be hurt–"

"The counter-argument is exactly that," Snape cut across him. "You didn't think. Neither of you, Draco out of a desire to show off and you out of a misplaced sense of duty. Perhaps next time it may occur to you that you might be doing more harm than good by charging in so recklessly. You are barely a man, not even out of school, not a trained professional. If you were harmed or captured by some dark force just because you charged in blindly, then any rescue party would be put in danger, potentially hurt or even killed trying to aid you. And it would all be for naught. The war is over, Mr Potter. You'd do well to remember that hence forth, any danger is not your sole responsibility to solve."

"I know…" Harry replied weakly, glancing across the Hospital Wing now to where Hermione lay, still and unconscious. It was just as great a danger as his out-of-control magic. He could seriously endanger people if he didn't change. "I…I'll try to be more responsible of my own life and less of everyone else's, Professor. Thank you."

Those last two words had almost stuck in his throat but he'd forced them out. Snape was right and what was more, he'd been concerned (for whatever reason), he deserved that Harry forget his pride a little. Just as Draco did after all he had done recently. One thing at a time, he told himself, looking to Hermione again. But before he could open his mouth. Malfoy was speaking again.

"While it's monumental that Harry Potter just might realise it isn't his job to save the world anymore, I think you've forgotten just what I am, Severus. I am not a mere student–"

"Neither is Harry Potter," Snape replied simply, his eyes hooded with frustration. "You are a vampire. But you're a new one, and you are nowhere near invincible. Strong, fast, yes, but foolish if you believe you are unconquerable. You are not stupid, Draco, use these abilities and use them to your advantage but do not stupidly assume it gives you leave to challenge the world just to impress your boyfriend."

A low hiss tugged free of Malfoy's lips. "I did no such thing!"

With a smirk, Snape asked, "and what other reason might you have had?"

Harry might have laughed, had the situation been any different, on seeing Draco Malfoy with such an embarrassed, subdued expression. As it was, there were more important things to deal with right now. "The potion," Harry said abruptly, holding his hand out to Snape. "Can I give it to Hermione? I'd rather get her healed as quickly as possible."

Snape nodded and he delved deep into his inside pocket, drawing out a curved, crystal vial with pinkish fluid inside. Harry took it gratefully and moved to his friend's bedside.

"Five drops, no more, unless you wish a reaction such as yours upon her." Harry flushed furiously at the thought and removed the stopper from the vial, before carefully dripping five drops into Hermione's mouth.

"There's something else," Malfoy said to Severus, while Harry sat back on the chair beside Hermione's bed, stroking her hand carefully. She hadn't moved yet, but he swore her breathing seemed to be coming easier to her now…

"In the forest, whatever those creatures were, they knew my name, that I was a vampire, they knew that Harry was my first," Draco whispered out hurriedly, "I don't know how, but they knew a lot more than they should. And they mentioned Alaric, that failure of a defence teacher and that he was a 'pet' to someone, or something called Lucan Vesper. Does this mean anything to you?"

Harry listened to the silence that had fallen absently. He wanted to know the answer to that too, of course he wanted to know, but Hermione was still not moving. Her face was as pale as ever and Harry was struggling to remember how fast Draco's saliva and blood healed him. Shouldn't it have worked by now? Why hadn't she so much as opened her eyes?

Suddenly, the sound of the Hospital Wing door swinging open made Harry's head snap up. He didn't move but he didn't feel encouraged either that Ron was standing there now, glaring daggers at Snape and Malfoy before turning his gaze on Harry. "I might understand you, but what the bloody hell are they doing here?" the red-head demanded.

"I happen to be this school's potions master, Mr Weasley and you would do well to remember that Madame Pomfrey isn't the only one who is trying to help your Miss Granger."

Ron snorted, and then glared at Malfoy in particular. "Right, so what about him, then? When I know for a fact that he wouldn't piss on Hermione if she were on fire!"

"He's with me," Harry said quickly, before an all-out row could break loose. This wasn't the place or the time, and with Malfoy still needing some more blood, he wasn't sure the vampire could hold his tongue. And he doesn't deserve Ron's rubbish, his mind supplied.

Ron's freckled face contorted with loathing, his skin as red as his hair. "He isn't welcome. You might be that desperate for a shag that you'd be Malfoy's lapdog, but I'm not blinded to what he is."

Harry sat up straighter, his hands tightening around Hermione's unconscious one. It still lay limp and lifeless in his grasp. He wished she were here to advise him, to help him. He was confused enough about himself, but now Malfoy was…maybe his boyfriend and before Harry could even decide how he felt about that, Ron was interjecting his biased opinions. His head hurt. He winced as tension, stress rippled through his mind like a wave of spiteful, biting electricity.

"Look, you don't have to like him, but I get to decide who I want around me. Not you. If you try to tell me who I should and shouldn't be friends with, then you're no better than he was in first year. He's different now, we all are, and he's had to work bloody hard to earn my trust. I didn't – I still don't make it easy for him. I'm not an idiot. If you hate him, fine, he probably doesn't like you much either, but you both like me. So with that interest in common maybe you can at least be civil, for me."

Ron snorted. "Malfoy doesn't 'like' anyone, mate, he only likes opportunities. That's all you are to him. An opportunity to redeem some of his foul reputation."

Malfoy gave a jerk of a badly smothered laugh. Harry just sighed, again. "If that's a risk I'm willing to take, it really isn't any of your business. Look, I had to get used to you and Hermione getting closer and pushing me out a bit, you'll have to deal with being pushed out a little by M…Draco. It doesn't mean we still can't be best mates. If Voldemort didn't change how we feel, why should this?"

When Ron remained silent and that uneasy, awful quiet made to choke Harry and shatter his falsely calm exterior, Harry saw Malfoy glance to him. Those grey eyes were filled with thoughtful concern and he could not help but be oddly touched by it.

"Listen, Weasley," Malfoy said, stepping towards the seething red head. Harry was grateful that Malfoy ignored the way Ron reached half way for his wand in an unspoken threat. "We can get on for Harry's sake, enough that we don't make his life miserable at any rate. But if you make him choose, you'll lose him."

Ron snarled. "You think he'd pick you over me? I've been his best friend for seven years! You've been his fuck for a few weeks! He wouldn't pick you over–"

"I think that Harry is fair and if you force him to, he'll pick the person that isn't making him choose like a spoilt child, a brat who cares more about his own importance than his friend's happiness."

That at least rendered Ron speechless. The red head sucked in his lips in irritation at having Malfoy point it out to him, no doubt. And it was a tad harsher than Harry would've thought necessary, Ron was just concerned, was just feeling put out because he cared. Still, by the look on his face, Harry thought that the message had sunk in. He lifted his chin to give Malfoy an appreciative glance, but before he could, Hermione's hand twitched in his grasp. Both he and Ron lunged towards the bed while the slytherins responsible for this miracle watched on impassively.

Hermione's brow wrinkled, her body tensing as it might were she conscious, and readying herself to get up. For now, however, her lashes fluttered. Harry saw the moment when her eyes slowly drew into focus. Her head rolled slightly and a look of profound relief touched her tired features as she saw both him and Ron. She squeezed Harry's hand back.

Sharp, relieved tears stabbed at the back of Harry's eyes but did not fall. "Welcome back," he said lamely, with an unsteady smile. "You frightened us to death!"

Giving a little breathless smile, Hermione tried to find her voice. "I…s-sorry. D-Didn't mean to…to worry you."

Ron leant closer then, taking up her other hand and stroking it carefully, as if she were a crystal that might shatter. He seemed too relieved, too moved to form words. Harry saw the way they looked at each other and felt as if her were being a little…intrusive then, as if he were witnessing something very private that perhaps he shouldn't be.

Subtly, he released Hermione's hand. "What did this to you, Hermione?" he asked, he should leave them to each other, he knew that. And he would, as soon as he had a direction to head in. "Who cursed you? Was it a–"

"I wasn't cursed, Harry," Hermione replied shakily, looking from him to Ron in an oddly thoughtful manner. "I was just exhausted, out of control of my magic. I admit it now, I don't know how I can have been so… I was just going to hand in one of our essays early and I came over sort of…peculiar, so the professor offered me a drink of water. I felt better for a little while after that. But then later, Ron and I were practicing dual casting and I just–"

"Which professor?" Harry demanded hastily.

Raising a brow questioningly, Hermione replied, "Professor Alaric, Harry. He was very kind. He let me sit down for a bit and then offered me a drink of this sparkling water. It smelt just like elderflower," she paused then, frowning. "I must've missed out on so much work…"

Harry's gaze darted to Malfoy. He saw the vampire's shoulders stiffen but otherwise, he was impassive as stone. For some reason, Alaric had poisoned Hermione. But why?

"You reckon Alaric poisoned her, don't you?" Ron murmured to Harry, he too glancing at Malfoy, as if trying to guess what secret he and Harry shared, and what it had to do with this.

"What a ridiculous claim!" Hermione gasped. "He's our teacher, he'd never try to–"

"You very nearly died because he poisoned you," Malfoy interjected. "And do not be wilfully obtuse; it is not as if a teacher has never tried to kill any of us, after all."

Hermione looked a little confused at Malfoy's presence then, as if she had only just noticed him and Snape standing nearby.

"It is incredibly dangerous indeed to make such accusations without proof, however," Snape said, looking at them all in turn. "You are no longer children; if you offend the wrong people in the adult world your actions may have grave consequences."

Harry stood up then, marching over towards the door. "We'll find proof then," he announced as he moved.

"Are you going back on your decision to not take responsibility for every wrong already?" Snape asked warningly.

Harry whirled to face them all, his two best friends looking incredibly confused by it all. He couldn't help that now, however, he would find some way to explain without exposing Malfoy's secret – later. "No. I'll stick by that decision, where possible. Here this is a direct attack at us, however. This is my responsibility, I think I can tell the difference now."

An exaggerated sigh sounded from across the room then, and Malfoy moved towards him. "Don't worry, Severus, I'll keep the chosen one out of trouble."

Ron snorted. "Oh what a hardship for you," he spat sarcastically with no effort to disguise his disgust. "You'll probably be watching his arse the entire time."

"I don't understand what's going on," Hermione interjected then, evidently confused and concerned. "Why are Professor Snape and Malfoy here? Why are Malfoy and Harry–?"

"They made the potion that saved you," Harry interrupted quickly. He couldn't deal with another row about him and Malfoy. Not now. "You should be fully healed but you still need to take it easy because of your magic, at least until we know for sure if it's settled. If whatever Alaric has poisoned you with is still–"

"Don't forget that you too must take it easy," Snape reminded curtly, "I have no desire for anymore of my evenings to be monopolised by brewing cures for you three. See to it that you remember your recent epiphany." And with that, the potions master was gone, the Hospital Wing door left ajar, tempting Harry with escape. He couldn't afford to linger and give his friends opportunity to ask questions he wasn't ready to answer yet. And besides which, he and Malfoy had work to do.

No sooner had he thought that, however, than he felt Malfoy slide up next to him, so close that the vampire's chest was touching his side. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden contact, just as Malfoy leant in to whisper in his ear. "If we intend to get your evidence on Alaric, we need to go now."

Harry frowned. Yes, it was urgent, they all wanted him proven guilty and then locked up where he belonged as soon as possible. But why was Malfoy so adamant that it be right this moment? As if plucking that thought right out of his head, Malfoy added all-but silently, "I must be locked away in Severus's rooms by sunrise."

Green eyes widened in horror as he recalled just what had kindled the fear in Malfoy's eyes back in the dormitory earlier. The monumental problem he had so conveniently forgot in light of the problem he considered more important. The problem Malfoy had easily pushed aside in order to help him, Harry to save Hermione. And just because I wanted him to, Harry thought, feeling disgusted with himself. He hadn't realised just how self-involved, how selfish he could be.

Malfoy's protection against sunlight is going to run out tomorrow and then he'll have to hide away until Snape can track down the ingredients to make more potion. And that would take weeks, months if Alaric was as efficient in causing trouble as he was at teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Giving Malfoy a small, fraction of a nod that only he could see, Harry set his jaw determinedly. They would find evidence to condemn Alaric to his crimes, of course, but he would not let Malfoy hide away in darkness for any amount of time either. I won't let him suffer, he thought resolutely, avoiding Malfoy's eyes as they left the Hospital Wing together. If he thinks he has to do this alone, he's already forgotten that he has me.

The absence of breath in the body pressed tightly against his made Harry hyperaware of his own, unsteady breaths. Slowly, he forced them to even as they halted outside of the locked door that was their target. The door to Professor Alaric's office. The invisibility cloak kept them hidden, but of course, everyone was up in their dormitories, so it was hardly needed. A necessary precaution though, Harry thought, for he couldn't imagine this was exactly what the eighth years were meant to use their extended curfew for.

"Is Alaric in there?" Harry asked quietly, knowing Malfoy's keen senses would pick up on the man's scent if he were in there or nearby. He had checked the Marauder's Map before they'd come here, but Alaric could've returned to his office in that time. He watched Malfoy incline his head a fraction, before the blond shook his head. "No recent scent, and it's silent, the natural kind, not the magical kind. Wherever he is, he's not there."

"Good," Harry replied, drawing his wand and turning it on the door. "Alohomora!" To his incredible surprise, it opened with a 'click'. Green eyes turned to Malfoy suspiciously. "That was too easy. We'll have to watch out."

With a nod, Malfoy followed him in cautiously through the door. The office was not that much different to what you might expect from the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Books and peculiar artefacts filled the shelves that lined the walls, while the desk was swamped with glistening, silver instruments. Harry frowned when he saw them, wondering why Alaric would leave them there, in plain sight if the door hadn't even been properly warded.

The cloak was still over them and they kept silent but as soon as they stepped towards the middle of the room, the door behind them gave an alarming groan. Whirling on their heels, they faced the door just in time to see it merging into the wall, until all that was left behind them was solid stone.

"We're trapped," Harry said, glancing around the room. That was evidently why it didn't matter to Alaric if anyone got into his office. Because whoever got in, wasn't getting out.

"Let's just look for what we came for," Malfoy said, pulling the cloak off of their heads. "We'll worry about the escape after we're done here."

"Right."

The problem was of course, that Alaric had so much crammed into the shelves that it would take them hours to search it. May as well get started then, Harry thought, unwilling to admit defeat so quickly. He started by pulling the books gently out of place and checking behind them while Malfoy searched the desk. Or at least appeared to.

"You look very… striking when you're concentrating," Malfoy murmured, his voice the tone of rich, warm caramel. It made spittle gather in Harry's mouth. Inclining his head from where he stood rummaging through the shelves, he tried to sound scolding and unaffected when he said, "stop being distracted. We have an evidence to find." He could not help the subtle flutter in his chest that caused his words to quake a little.

Harry skimmed the spines of the countless books with his fingers, reading the titles. Unfortunately, neither they nor even the (no doubt sterilised) silver instruments were evidence for anything. Except perhaps that he was dedicated to knowing everything about his work and was prepared against vampires. And that was too close to 'Draco's' truth to use as evidence. No, they needed that bottle of whatever Alaric had slipped Hermione to convince anyone of dodgy dealings.

Though, now he thought about it, Alaric had poisoned Hermione after she'd already been losing control of her powers. He frowned. He must've been poisoning her all along, since we got here, he thought. Or perhaps something else had started this all, had made Hermione's magic unstable, and Alaric's poison had simply exacerbated things. Perhaps the trouble had not come from just one source, as Madam Pomfrey had suspected.

Suddenly, the thin layer of dust that had lined each book vanished and Harry paused as his fingers touched nothing but the clean yet worn leather of the Mythical Beasts Encyclopaedia.

He's used this recently, Harry thought, tugging the heavy tome towards him. It was not the book that was of use, however. In the space behind where the book had sat, was a collection of sparkling glass vials. He moved to turn to beckon Malfoy to him, but the blond was already right behind him, so close that his cool, needless breath skimmed the back of Harry's neck. Harry shivered at the alarmingly pleasant sensation. It made his ears grow hot.

"Look," he said unevenly, trying to forget his unwelcome desires and focus on the matter at hand. "Some look like they have liquid silver in," he said, reaching for the clear, fizzy looking fluid closest to the back of the collection.

"Looking to spray me with it or make me ingest it, no doubt," Malfoy snarled, pointing to another of the vials still on the shelf. "That one is holy water, says so on the bottle. And look," Malfoy snatched up a roll of parchment from beside the vials. "An order for half a million gallons of holy water? What the hell is he planning to do with that?! Drown half the vampires in England?!"

Only half listening, Harry popped the cork on the vial he held and sniffed warily at the contents. He couldn't tell what the smell was, but it was by no means foul. Malfoy leant in then, putting their faces dangerously close as he smelled the bottle.

"Definitely elderflower," Malfoy said, looking directly into Harry's eyes, his outrage at Alaric's crooked transactions fading with every second they stared at each other. "This is it, you have your potion."

Flipping it round so that he could see the label, Harry frowned. "Essenz der Fee?" he read, and then winced as he saw the translation in tiny letters beneath that, "Essence of Fairy?" He knew he must've sounded revolted (as well as pronounced the name wrong) because Malfoy was smiling.

"It's not made from fairies, it's made by fairies. In Germany, hence the German name. You need a little work in the language, evidently."

Harry snorted. "Oh, and you don't, I s'pose?"

A devious grin crossed Malfoy lips as he breathed purposefully over his ear, "Ich bin von dir fasziniert. Ich denke immer an dich. Hast du mich gerne?" Harry's entire body tensed and quivered like a plucked harp string. It didn't matter the language or that he had no idea what the blond had said, he'd felt his intent right down to his core. He heard a wicked, hot laugh directly over his ear then, felt it whisper against his lobe. "I want to fuck you on his desk," the vampire growled, with equal passion and ferociousness.

"No," Harry all-but gasped, shaking his head. "I…I–"

"You don't sound too convinced, Potter," Malfoy teased, tilting his head so that his lips could capture Harry's inflamed earlobe. Harry groaned, arching his hips uncontrollably. He'd had no idea his ears were so sensitive. Then, suddenly, Malfoy's mouth was on his, smooth and supple yet demanding. And he was very conscious of the feel of hard fangs present in the kiss. A moment of hesitation, that was all he had time for before those lips assured him of Malfoy's carefulness. Even amongst the fire, the passion and yearning, there was a chary tenderness in the sensuous passes of that tongue over his own.

A grunt of barely concealed pleasure sounded deep in his chest and the tenseness in his jaw dissipated as long, slender fingers caressed the hard line of his chin. It was as if they were willing him to relax, to unleash his worldly cares and simply melt. He wanted to, so badly, but he wasn't sure that the cautiousness instilled in him for so many years would be so easily shattered.

What happened to taking your life back? A voice whispered from the last coherent stretch of his mind. Since when have you ever given up at the first hurdle?

At that moment, Malfoy's fingers left his chin and dived up into his dark locks, tugging hard. They dragged him back to reality and deeper into the kiss. Harry groaned in earnest then, cupping the back of Malfoy's neck to hold him to the kiss. He knew he wasn't particularly good, but he thought if Malfoy stayed just there, he could be better. Bloody brilliant, his mind supplied.

Tilting his head a little more, Harry's own tongue slipped out to manipulate Malfoy's experimentally. Barrelling in without a thought, he stroked the length of that lean, wet muscle, before touching the tip teasingly. A hiss of bliss vibrated through his own mouth from Malfoy's and he grinned against the kiss.

Doing alright, aren't you, Potter? Malfoy's voice whispered in the corner of his mind. He wondered whether they were actually Malfoy's thoughts, another extension of their blood connection or if it was just his own mind adopting Malfoy's persona. The first sounded frighteningly more plausible.

That was all that was left of his coherency, however, when Malfoy pressed in tight to him again, those fangs scraping gently over his kiss-bruised lips. They tickled, made his sensitive flesh tingle in a way that made his cock throb. He felt the slickness of a mix of his and Malfoy's saliva on his lips, in his mouth and dived in to flick his tongue over the points of those fangs, before he could dwell on the possibility that it might be predominantly Malfoy's saliva making him feel like this.

He wanted this, Malfoy wanted this and for Merlin's sake he bloody well deserved this!

Harry kissed back harder now, gasping into that lukewarm mouth. He'd made that warmer, he'd made Malfoy gasp and groan when he didn't even need to breathe to live. Malfoy was a vampire, he was physically stronger and faster, but Harry had just as much power here, if not more. Malfoy was willing to give him that power, Malfoy wanted him to trust him. And…Harry thought that maybe, just maybe, Draco was worthy of that trust.

**CENSORED. FOR FULL SMUT SCENE PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE**

The world twisted, a hazy blur of dazzling colours, the most potent of which on Draco's lips as he drew back. Red. Blood. Harry's mind and heart were both racing, and he tried to focus on words as he gasped, "S-Sorry." He knew what a temptation his blood was, especially when they were this…close. He watched Draco's tongue swipe out to steal the trickle off blood of his lips and instinctually copied the action, his lower lip stinging.

"No," Draco said, his hands sliding down to Harry's hips where they rested, still, for a moment at least. "I'm… I didn't want this to be about…" he growled in frustration, stepping back from Harry a good few paces until his legs were against the edge of the desk. "Bloody hell, I want your blood so fucking much!" Those last words were a low hiss now and Harry was trying to make sense of it as he stepped towards where Draco was now leaning, his long fingers tearing gouges in the side of the desk until the wood splintered.

"I can hear it, pounding in my head!" Draco snarled, his blond hair hanging into his suddenly piercingly, inhumanly silver eyes. "I can…I can taste it every time I… I have to show you, prove that it's not about blood."

Harry's brow furrowed with his confusion now. He thought Draco was coming to terms with it now that his powers were growing, but it appeared he was still fairly sensitive in some aspects. He wasn't as untouchable as he would've had them all believe earlier.

Finally he was standing before Malfoy, his entire body still strumming with pleasure, his mind fogged up with lust. But somehow, he managed to find some coherent words. Just. "I'm…I'm alright, with that. It didn't hurt, it's – fuck's sake, Draco. Bite me, I don't care! I don't care about a little pain. Why am I coming to terms with this easier than you? You're a vampire, you need my blood. I came in my trousers the second time you bit me! And I probably would've the first time if we hadn't been in–"

"Don't," Draco growled warningly. "Don't talk about…about that night. In the dungeon with Greyback and that…the vampire that… It makes me sick, to think that anyone saw me like that, that you saw me like that."

Harry tried to pull back from the haze of ecstasy but didn't quite manage, he stepped closer, until he was standing between Draco's open legs. "It's not shameful, what that vampire made you feel. You…you made me–"

"Not that, you idiot," Draco snapped. His head jerking up so that Harry could see those silver eyes shining wildly now. "You saw… They tortured me, they made me scream, cry, beg like a girl. It's the most…the most shameful part of my life and you saw it. I never, ever want to think of that again. I don't want your bloody pity, understand me?!" He seized the front of Harry's robes then, dragging him close, his arms shaking with the intensity of his pent up hunger. Harry could see those eyes trained on the blood still oozing from his lips. He swallowed.

"And I don't want every time I touch you to be about blood. I'm a vampire, not a monster," Draco added, "I won't become a monster."

Harry pressed in closer. "I won't let you become a monster," Harry breathed, his hands reaching out and swiping the objects resting on the desk away, sending them flying to the floor with a horrendous crash. That roused a grin from Draco, who no doubt was hoping that some of those silver heirlooms (weapons) had been broken. Shoving Draco back hard, Harry dived down and stole his lips with another kiss. Even as their mouths moved together, he felt the sting in his lip heal.

Harry scrambled inelegantly to get onto the desk a little more.

The blond gave a snarl of pleasure and reached up to tug hard on his dark locks once more. Draco seemed to like doing that…

"You're the only one who has a problem with what you are," Harry panted, his words dusting over Draco's lips as he lay there, panting on top of him. "And what you are is bloody stupid if the bloke you want is begging you to fuck him and all you can think of is something that happened months ago." Harry dove down to lash that wicked tongue with his own again. This time, he traced the outline of those fangs again, so gently that he felt Draco shiver. They were sensitive? That was interesting…

**CENSORED. FOR FULL SMUT SCENE PLEASE SEE THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE**

Harry had never felt anything so amazing in his entire life. He swore he was going to explode with it. Turning his head to the side, he exposed the marked side of his throat to Draco's descending kisses. That made the vampire pause over him.

"You're mad with lust," Draco breathed heatedly, "you don't realise how dangerous it is for you to tempt me."

Harry cried out in a mixture of frustration and yearning. "Don't stop!" Oh Merlin, the way Draco's body writhed against his own, in perfect sync with the frenzied beat of Harry's heart. He was so close. He didn't care about anything else. Those fangs were against his skin still, but only as an inactive participant. They glided over his flesh with every hungry, ravenous kiss Draco laid on his tender throat, they tickled his sensitive skin until shivers rushed down his arching back, but they did not break through. Draco did not bite, simply continued the faultless worship of his throat until his eyes welled up with the overpowering bliss.

Clawing at Draco's shoulders through his shirt, he pulled him tight against his body. One hand shot up to seize Draco's hair, tugging him awkwardly away from his throat. His eyes flickered open, just quick enough to catch a glimpse of the lustful confusion on Draco's face, before Harry pulled him down, guiding that mouth to where he truly wanted it, his lips. They were but a hairsbreadth apart now…

Suddenly, an echoing sound of footsteps announced the sound of someone advancing outside. Harry froze, the haze of lust still there, still fogging his mind, but now the danger had pierced it firmly. He angled his head and saw, over Draco's shoulder that the office door was slowly merging back into view from where it had retreated into the stone.

Shit!

~To Be Continued...