It was nearly ten minutes later before Draco gathered himself together enough to realize if he was going to do this he needed to hurry up, because he really didn't have that much time left. He took several deep breathes before grabbing his wand and slowly heading out. He was relieved when it appeared that most everyone was in class, except for one or two younger kids who were obviously conspiring beside the fire. Outside of the dungeons Draco still kept to the shadows, now that he had fed the light didn't hurt near as much, but it still bothered him.

After wondering the second floor corridor for a time, Draco finally asked one of the paintings, a noble looking French knight, where the painting was because he was certain he was never going to find it on his own. The painting was nearly impossible to find as it was hidden around a corner at the end of an unused corridor. When Draco finally did find it thanks to the other paintings assistance he just stared at the dragon for a time. It was a beautiful specimen, a rare one as well for it was clear that despite its coloring it was a Common Welsh dragon. For a moment, Draco distracted himself with contemplating how the dragon came to be red instead of green. Was it the painter or was the dragon a hybrid, such a creature would be rare indeed.

Draco wasn't sure how long he had been gazing at the dragon when the painting suddenly swung open and there in the hole that it left behind was Harry Potter. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin, and although he tried to hide it, it was clear he was unsuccessful when Potter raised an eyebrow. One corner of his mouth twitched, like he was considering smiling, but then he seemed to close off his expression. He opened the entrance wider and stepped to the side as he said, "Please come in."

Draco hesitated a moment, before taking a quick deep breath, and stepping past Potter into the dimly lit room. There was a moment where Draco just scanned over the room, it was dark beige, with mahogany wooden floors and a large chocolate coach with a two large arm chairs, all facing a dwindling fire. His attention quickly returned to Potter as the Gryffindor closed the painting, and asked, "Would you like to have a seat?"

Potter was already moving to the farthest chair and after he took a seat Draco hesitantly made his way to the coach, sitting on the end farthest from Potter. There was a long moment of silence before Potter said, "Your note said that you had something to discuss."

Draco glanced up at Potter, trying to read his body language and guess what he was thinking. He could always guess what the other snakes were thinking without any problem, but Potter was a completely different story. Draco took a deep breath and said, "I'm assuming Granger told you about her conversation with Pansy."

Potter raised an eyebrow and asked, "Did you set that all up?"

Draco shook his head and said, "No, that was all Pansy, and I don't even know what all she said."

Potter narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you know about the conversation they had?"

Draco considered Potter for a moment before saying, "Only that Pansy came to the conclusion that Granger was not aware of certain laws concerning…" Draco considered for a moment what words to use before settling with, "Blood exchange."

Potter sighed and said, "She's right, Hermione and I, all we knew about damphere is what we could find in the library, and we never read anything that suggested that the ministry monitored… blood exchange."

Draco frowned and asked with a bit of an angry edge to his voice, "Then why did you do that?"

Potter sighed and as he ran a hand through his hair he asked, "Does that really matter right now, or are you still hell bent on dying? If so why did you ask to meet me?"

Draco snapped, "First of all I was not hell bent on dying, and second I definitely do not want to die by a ministry hunter."

Potter actually gave a faint smile and said, "Well then this is all rather easy. After Hermione had her little discussion with Pansy she was able to locate the proper forms, and we have them all filled out, just need your signature saying that you agree to my terms."

Draco felt a knot of worry begin to build up once more and he asked, "What are your terms?"

Instead of speaking Potter pulled out the form he spoke of, Draco hadn't noticed it had been on a small end table next to the chair. Potter handed it to Draco and after a few minutes of reading through all of the legal terms, which he had to assume Granger took care of, he asked in disbelief, "You want me to feed from you every day for the rest of the month?"

Potter nodded and Draco asked, "Are you sure I'm the one with a death wish because quite frankly this could kill you."

Potter sighed and said, "I've already ran it by Madam Pomfrey and although she did not recommend it, she informed me that it is possible. So that's my deal, take it or leave it."

By the time Potter had finished speaking, Draco could clearly see the anger and determination on Potter's face and knew that no matter what he said or did at this point he would not be able to change Potter's mind. He had a few doubts, mostly he was worried that he would have to fill out paperwork every day, so everyday Potter could ask him to do something for him. Still it wasn't like Draco had a choice in the matter so with a heavy sigh he pulled a Quill from his pocket and signed the paper, sealing his fate.

When he finished he felt that knot start to form in his belly because although Potter was hiding it well he could feel his joy and sense of victory. Which seemed to double when he read over the form one more time before moving over to what Draco now realized was a painted window. He was bit surprised by the whole room in general, he felt more comfortable in it then he had anywhere else since he had transitioned.

Potter cracked the window open, but only enough to let in what had to be one of the smallest birds he had ever seen. Potter placed the form in an envelope that he pulled from his pocket and tied it to the bird's leg. After giving the bird a few treats that he must have also pulled from his pocket the bird flew off and Potter carefully closed the window

Without thinking Draco asked, "Please tell me that you didn't buy that bird?"

Potter turned and there was that infuriating raised eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitched as he asked, "What's wrong with Pig?"

Draco had to bight his tongue to keep from replying with the many insults that came to mind as he recalled Pansy's request that he not antagonize Potter still he could help but say, "Well after your old owl, that one rather falls short."

There was a small flair of pain, but there was also another flair of joy as Potter said, "You knew what my old owl looked like."

Draco sighed and said, "It was hard to miss, since it was one of only four birds that came into the great hall that were not common and easy to come by."

Potter raised an eyebrow and asked, "And what were the other three?"

Draco didn't know why Potter was questioning him about this, but it wasn't as though he was questioning him about anything of importance so he surprisingly didn't mind so much, so he replied, "Well obviously there was my eagle owl, then some Ravenclaw had an owl from Africa, although that one was a bit of an eye sore, and Nott had a Northern Spotted owl, which he got taken because the fool didn't file the right paperwork for having an owl on the muggle's endangered species list."

Potter asked, "How do you know all this?"

Draco was surprised by the question, and for a moment he wasn't sure how he wanted to answer that question, but after a moment he decided to be honest. He wasn't sure where the thought came from, but once it came to him he said simply, "Because I'm a Malfoy."

Potter snorted and said, "That's not an actual answer."

Draco crossed his arms and gave Potter a glare. Of course it wasn't a good explanation but if Potter knew anything about purebloods he would understand that in a sense it was an actual answer. Draco felt a flare of anger, entirely his own and said, "If that's all I rather have other places I need to be."

He felt a flare of pain from Potter which absolutely baffled him, and it only increased when Draco stood and took a few steps toward the door. He stopped though when Potter asked, "wouldn't it be better if you fed now, or do you want me to stop by your room later this evening?"

Draco felt the blood leave his face and he felt that knot once more beginning to form in his belly, He had almost forgotten that he had practically signed his life away. Draco took a steadying breath before turning to see that Potter was standing, still Draco forced himself not to falter as he said, "I guess now would be preferable but if you don't mind I'd like the papers signed beforehand."

Potter pulled another piece of parchment and envelope from his pocket and offered them to Draco. Draco read over the form, and asked with disbelief, "You want me to bight you?"

Potter nodded and said, "Madam Pomfrey said it would be healthier for the both of us."

Draco didn't tell Potter that he already knew that it would be healthier for him, but he did think it over. He wasn't sure he could do it, the thought of it actually made him feel a bit queasy. Potter must have noticed, or at least picked up on Draco's hesitance as he said, "Madam Pomfrey said that you would probably prefer that to me actually cutting my wrist, she said something about it being less painful, which frankly didn't make much sense."

Draco knew it probably didn't make sense to Potter, but it made perfect sense to him so he said, "Very well, if that is truly what you want. Do you have any preference to where I bight you?"

Potter seemed surprise, as though he had been expecting much more of a struggle or a fight before Draco gave in, but after a moment he said, "Well since you're probably going to you know, pass out afterwards, we should probably move to the bedroom."

Draco raised an eyebrow as he glanced around and asked "Bedroom?"

Potter gave a small smile and moved towards the fireplace, he pushed on the brick two down from the mantle and four over from the edge, and slowly the fireplace moved to the right to reveal a very large room with high vaulted ceilings and a bed that made his bed back at the manor look small. If Draco's heart was still beating he was certain he would have had a heart attack as it was he at the very least was on the edge of a panic attack. He knew he didn't necessarily have to breathe, but still he felt as though he needed it and he definitely was not getting enough.

Potter was silent, standing by the opening that had been made. After a few minutes Draco finally said, "You know I think the coach would do fine."

Potter gave Draco a look before saying, "Really Malfoy, you're afraid of the big bad bed? Is there anything you're not afraid of?"

Draco felt a well of anger, but he bit back every mean comment he could think of because he still had an entire month of having to get Potter to sign the papers so the ministry didn't send a hunter. So Draco stormed past Potter, quickly placed his shoes beside the bed, because for Merlin's sake his mother taught him manners. He climbed onto the bed, which was impossibly soft, and potter raised an eyebrow and said, "That can't be comfortable."

Draco narrowed his eyes and said, "Well in a few minutes I won't give a damn, now since you're the one who wanted this hurry up and tell me where you want it."

Potter sighed and slowly took off his robe before kicking his shoes aside and climbing into the bed, a bit to close for comfort in Draco's opinion but he kept that to himself. Potter slowly undid the top button of his shirt and pulled it to the side to reveal a slightly tanned shoulder. Draco must have shown his disbelief in some way because Potter said, "Madam Pomfrey recommended it, and this will be a bit easier to hide, don't you think?"

Draco let out a little huf of air then slowly, hesitantly leaned forward. At first he was grimacing, repulsed at the thought of biting anyone especially Potter, but then as he came closer his senses trained onto the vein there in Potter's shoulder. Draco wasn't even aware of his fangs protruding or him leaning forward as his teeth slid through the skin like it was nothing but air. The taste was just as great, made even better by the fact that Madam Pomfrey had been right and apparently actually bighting Potter hurt him less, which meant Draco didn't feel his pain. After two swallows Draco's fangs retreated, and Draco was all at once relieved and disappointed as he tasted the last few drops of blood before the wounds closed up on their own, leaving barley visible little dots on Potter's tan shoulder. Draco barely had time to roll over a bit away from Potter before he was lost to the darkness of unconsciousness.