A Different Kind of Pure Blood- By Ceilidh Clemens, Characters © JKR

Thank you for the reviews, people! Who must I adress today... Krip: NO. Just... NO. No more yogurt for you!

Koryan'shea: Turn Harry? We'll just save that for Draco, okay?

Firefairy42: I'm not English, I'm American... But I'm trying to make the characters still seem English, it only makes sense to do so.

Morena Evensong: You'd be surprised how much magic Draco can do.

Red Elektra: I'd rather enjoy it if Draco bit me, but I suppose, by updating, I'm spoiling my chances.

Opal: Does Dumbledore know anything? ... um... Go read HBP.

Part 11- Around the Twist!

Draco was staring at Harry as if he'd grown another head. All of a sudden, that wouldn't have been surprising to Harry.

"Your eyes have been fixed," Draco stated bluntly, as if trying to understand what this meant. Harry nodded slowly, wincing as his still-bleeding neck panged unpleasantly. The blond slowly stood, not bothering to tie shut the maroon bath-robe he had borrowed from Ron, knowing perfectly well that Harry was acquainted with his silver boxers. Harry had more important things to worry about. Draco ran a pale, long-fingered hand through his smooth blond hair, pacing a wee bit, not looking at Harry. "I doubt it's because of my fangs…" he muttered aloud. Draco turned slowly back to Harry. "It's either my blood, or our awkward little bond."

"Or the combination," Harry submitted. Silence reigned supreme all of a sudden, and Draco's empty gray eyes fixated themselves onto Harry's. The Gryffindor shrank, figuring that he'd said something stupid. "Sorry. I don't know much about vampires." Those eyes flickered away.

"Nor do I. I'm sure Granger will fix that soon, though." The blond slowly smirked. "She seems to enjoy making you and Weasley listen to every fascinating fact she gets her grubby little mitts on." Harry almost smiled, but he was too confused and worried. Draco frowned, leaning back over the tub. He just watched Harry for a silent minute, before reaching his hand down, onto the Gryffindor's throat. Not where he'd been bitten, of course, on the front, right below his Adam's Apple. The hand remained locked in place for a moment, then pale fingers played absently with the curves of Harry's throat. Harry was too busy thinking to be bothered. "Has anybody ever told you that you're more delicious than any kind of tempura or nagiri-zushi?"

"Nobody's ever called me delicious before," Harry mumbled, trying not to feel flattered. "Nor compared me to sushi." He wished Draco would stop tickling his throat. It made thinking rather difficult. "S-stop that!" Harry hissed after a moment. Draco pulled his hand back, glaring at him.

"Seventy three trillion points from Gryffindor!"

"For what!" Harry squawked.

"For being miserable, and almost passing your misery on to me!" The vampire laughed. "Smile, Harry, smile! Look at me! If I can smile, so can you!" He grinned broadly, pointing out to Harry that his fangs had become invisible. Harry almost did so; the Slytherin was acting extremely childish all of a sudden. "Smiiiiiiiiiiile!" Draco whined, grabbing the corners of Harry's lips and tugging them upwards in a smile.

Then he gasped and pulled his hands quickly away from Harry's face.

"Please don't tell me I have fangs," Harry groaned.

"Your teeth are hideous!" Draco spat. "I'm going to get you a toothbrush!" That really did get Harry to laugh, and the blond gave him an appeased smile as he retreated from the room.

Left alone, Harry could do nothing. He couldn't move, he had nobody to talk to, the noise of his blood dripping into the tub was very annoying, and his neck felt very strange (a mixture of muscles aching and the feeling of some numbing substance on top). Now that his senses were returning, he felt somewhat stupid. The whole room stank of blood, and unless Draco's blood absolutely couldn't clot, there was going to be a nasty mess of gore caked onto his throat. He found himself thinking rather depressed thoughts. The meal Harry had provided Draco with wouldn't last very long, considering his emergency donation for Harry's healing. That was so… useless.

Draco came back in after a minute, this time accompanied by Charlie and a lovely toothbrush that glistened in the sun like… okay, so it wasn't a toothbrush sent from heaven. Harry was still happy to see it. The aftertaste of vampire blood was kind of gross. Charlie looked exhausted and somewhat ridiculous, with his red hair strewn about chaotically and his pajamas so wrinkled. "What's so important?" Charlie asked dully. Then his eyes popped wide open, and he rushed to Harry's side faster than a Firebolt. "Harry! Who did this!"

"Don't go suspicious and Moody-like on us. I'm the guilty person," Draco said swiftly. Charlie stared at Draco dumbly. The blond moved a little closer, rubbing his temples lightly and refusing to look at either Gryffindor. "Harry was being stupid, so I mutilated him and now he's too dumb to heal."

"Hey!" Harry spat.

"That is the truth, in a nutshell!" Draco huffed.

"What happened?" Charlie asked slowly, completely confounded.

Draco pointed at himself. "Vampire." He pointed at Harry. "Willing sacrifice." He stalked forward and poked Harry's damaged neck. "Molested patch of flesh." He pointed into the bathtub, to the red water that surrounded Harry. "The bloody results. Granger got my fangs lodged in him, and we've removed them, but now Harry won't stop bleeding."

Cool as he was, Charlie was a sleepy Weasley, so the information didn't absorb instantly. He stared emptily at Draco for a few seconds, before bellowing, "Merlin! Draco! You're-"

"-A vampire."

Charlie looked at Harry with alarm. "And you're-"

"- A bleeding victim," Harry mumbled.

"And you expect me to-"

"-Help him, rather than allowing the Boy-Who-Went-Balls-to-the-Walls to kick the bucket in a bathtub." Draco hesitated for a moment. "Well, that was a fun sentence," he said cheerfully. "The Chosen One didn't have a good enough ring to it." Charlie was staring at Draco as if he'd sprouted daisies in one ear and began leaking marmalade from the nostrils. The sadistically amused vampire quickly put on a serious face. "We can't get the bleeding to stop. I'll explain everything later, but he needs some help now."

"I can speak for myself, Draco," Harry informed him irritably.

"Hush, victim. I've decided to represent you."

"Oh, Lord help me…"

"Help the poor man, Charlie Weasley!" The redhead slowly changed his expression from confusion to resolve.

"Dad got bitten by that great ruddy snake two years back," Charlie said slowly. "That wouldn't stop bleeding, either… How did they get it to stop, again? I don't know… They made an antidote…" Draco made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, bordering between a growl and hiss. "There wouldn't happen to be an antidote for vampires, would there?"

"An antidote for vampires?" Draco choked incredulously. "Certainly, there is! Shall I buy us an antidote for wardrobes while I'm at it?" His voice was dripping more sarcasm than Harry's throat was dripping fluids.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm turning into a vampire wardrobe… The horror," Harry groaned with equal sarcasm, so completely annoyed by the debate being held a foot above him that he wanted to blow some heads off. Half the reason he didn't was his lack of a wand; the other half was his lightheadedness. If he was lucky, he might manage a little 'accidental' magic, like the time he blew up Aunt Marge. "I feel fine, you morons. You could just bandage me up and get me some more of those Blood Replenishing Potions. That would be great," Harry hinted. Draco rolled his eyes. Charlie nodded briskly and left the bathroom to gather the necessaries.

Not a second after the door clicked shut, Draco was knelt over Harry again, smirking and bluntly undressing Harry with his eyes. "Could you stop staring at me like that?" Harry groaned.

"Alright. Will this do?" Draco batted his eyelashes and gave him a most sickeningly sweet look of reverence. He could do it even better than Dobby. Harry felt his stomach clench. "No? What about this?" He scowled at Harry with the combined benevolence of Voldemort and Snape. Harry scowled back. "You're so picky, Harry."

"Stop making faces at me."

"Okay." Draco smiled and turned away without a complaint. Harry said nothing. He'd began to pick up signs that something was amiss about the blond. "Instead of staring, shall I talk?"

"What is there to talk about?" Harry mumbled. The blond whipped his head to look back at him.

"Surely you don't think the story is OVER!" Harry said nothing. The blond looked mildly smug. "No, I should have expected idiocy from you. All you know is how I came to find you in that alley. You don't know what happened on the way back to London. You don't know why I'm no longer a wanted a vampire- and you don't know why nobody seems to know I'm a vampire, either!"

"I take it we had an eventful trip back to London?"

"Oh, yes indeed!" Draco chuckled. "A very eventful trip. After I attacked you, I was-"

"Not now," Harry interrupted. "It can wait until I've gotten out of this tub and eaten something." The words had hardly left his mouth before Charlie was back with bandages. Harry could tell Draco was just itching to continue the tale, but the defeated vampire only murmured, "after breakfast," and left.