A/N: Well… Um. I don't know about you, but I have no idea what happened.
By the way, Ann, here you go;
Chapter Thirteen
Harry woke up slowly from his unnatural sleep. Madame Pomfrey must have given him a sleeping potion. He wouldn't have slept naturally himself.
The first thing Harry felt upon waking was the way his head throbbed with the worst headache he had ever encountered. The next was that he was alone, and in the infirmary.
Sighing, he reclined back into his pillows and tried to remember what had happened, what had brought him there, to the infirmary.
He remembered the absolute fury he had felt when McGonagall had told him to stay, not to help those in need. He couldn't stay safe while they were in peril, however, and had escaped the office. He could recall feeling the vampire taking over his senses slowly, creeping over his senses and taking control of his actions. He had been blinded by his dreadful need to kill all the Death Eaters he saw, seeing them as enemies, even as he sensed those who were innocent, hiding in the rubble, injured, or worse.
It had been an odd sensation, the way his mind seemed to fall back, relinquish all control and let the beast, as it were, take over. It was like watching everything he did as though he were an audience member, without any power to change the course of the show, just watching and praying.
He could still feel the hot course of hatred as he saw the DADA professor, still smell his acrid stench of fear, scent the blood that had beat in that man's body, he could still see the arc of blood, feel the satisfaction flow through his body as the man died.
It horrified Harry, that he had lost all control, that he had been unable to prevent himself from turning into some death-crazed creature of legend. He was afraid it would happen again, that he would never be able to control himself on the night of the New Moon from then on. That he'd turn into a wild monster again and again, seeking blood.
Shivering, Harry recalled the way that Voldemort had appeared, just when he had longed for a more satisfying kill, more blood. That presence within him had risen as the Dark Lord approached, it had coerced and prompted Harry into action as Voldemort spoke. Harry had not understood anything the snake-like man had said, but he could see the loathing etched into every pigment of his pale skin, could read his threat in the way the man held himself. Harry had risen to the bait, had attacked, and then… and just as that little evil thing within him had rejoiced, had blossomed and spread pain through his body, Harry had seen that Draco was there. That Draco was in pain.
Everything within him had urged him to protect Draco, and he had gone directly to the source, pressed his claws against the soft flesh of the evil one's throat.
Harry growled in memory, remembering the acute rage he had felt. The man had threatened Draco, had given him pain, and that, more than his own hatred, his own pain, had prompted him to attack the man. He had to be stopped.
The presence flinched and cried out in pain as Harry's claws dug into that throat. It told him to release the man, to let go, he wasn't supposed to kill him! He couldn't do that!
But Harry ignored the presence, ignored that black little hated worm that infested his mind. He would kill the evil thing.
And then… and then Draco had been there. Pleaded with him. Harry couldn't say no - the vampire couldn't say no - to its Chosen.
The vampire purred when Draco touched him, Harry had felt so happy for a moment that he forgot about the Dark one, forgot that he was still dangerous.
That moment cost him, for the pain in the next second had been unbearable, real, agonising pain. He had bled.
Now, thinking back on all he knew, Harry knew that it had been exceedingly foolish to go on a blood haze rampage when he was vulnerable, when it was the New Moon. If Voldemort had struck his heart, he would have died. As it was, Harry was severely weakened now, with what little blood he could sustain missing from his system. No amount of Blood Replenishing Potions would give it back to him, either, there was only one way.
Trying to ignore his thirst for now, Harry tentatively ran his fingers over the place where Voldemort's dagger had wounded him. The wound was closed over, healed, but a scar remained. Harry was not sorry for this, however. He could live with a scar, if only he could live. He would think before acting so foolishly again.
Sitting up, and ignoring his headache, Harry cast about for a sign of Madame Pomfrey. He could not sense her in the immediate vicinity, but he could hear muted voiced coming from her office.
Curious, Harry slid from the bed and stood beside the door silently.
"…surprised he's still alive. I know nothing of vampire healing, but that wound was deep, it made him loose much of his blood, I don't see how he could live after that."
The voice was Madame Pomfrey, and Harry furrowed his brows. Did he lose so much blood? He felt relatively fine, now. Just a little achy. He glanced out the windows, and saw that the moon had risen, and he smiled.
"He's been in that induced coma for almost a whole day, now." McGonagall was saying. "Surely he would have become worse, or better, by now? We would know if he were to die before now."
Harry felt the room's collective feelings, the uncertainty and fear. He was faintly touched by their worry for him, but felt that it was unnecessary.
"When do you suppose he'll wake, Poppy?" Harry heard Severus speak for the first time. "What will he need when he does?"
"I do not know the answer to either of your questions, Severus. Only time will tell." Madame Pomfrey sighed. "There is so little known about vampires, it's impossible to know anything at all about what could happen."
There was a tense silence, and Harry was about to step away and slink back into his hospital bed when the Matron spoke again.
"What about Harry's friends? Have they heard, do they know about his condition?"
The Headmistress sighed. "I'm afraid not. They have been rather… uncooperative. I'm afraid Harry had a falling out with them."
"What of Draco?" Severus spoke up once more.
"He left half an hour ago, not five minutes before you arrived. I expect he should be back soon, he wouldn't leave Harry's side all day, and I finally convinced him to have dinner in the Great Hall."
Harry smiled. Draco really cared, and that made him feel infinitely better.
He left the door, as silently as he had approached, and wandered back to his bed. But he could not sit, could not remain in that place. He needed to find Draco, to assure himself that he was okay.
Leaving the infirmary, Harry took the route to the Great Hall, thinking he might run into Draco. But as he got closer, Harry noticed that there was no one in the halls, that his internal clock told him it was late, too late for dinner to still be running. Suddenly concerned, Harry tapped into the currents that lingered in the hallway, and found a trail that would lead him to Draco.
Sounds of arguing reached his ears, followed by the barely restrained anger and aggression. Harry hurried his pace.
In seconds, he stood under the arch of the hallway. Ron, Seamus and a few of the Sixth Years had cornered Draco into a corner. They were snarling and flexing their muscles, readying themselves for a fight.
Draco looked calm and composed, replying to their taunts with infallible contempt. However, Harry could see through the façade, and the blonde was aware that even with magic, he couldn't take on five irate Gryffindors.
"Out for a stroll without your goons, Malfoy?" Ron sneered, and the expression seemed almost to clash with his freckles. "How brave of you."
The others laughed, and Harry seethed in anger. He drew the shadows about his body, and moved along the walls without being seen.
"Wouldn't want Daddy's Dearest get lost all by himself, would we boys?" Ron looked smug as the 'boys' guffawed.
Draco's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. Something was keeping him silent, from expressing his thoughts. Somehow, he couldn't insult Harry's best friend, even if that friend had betrayed him.
That didn't stop him from slipping his wand surreptitiously into his hand.
Harry watched Draco's wand slide into place, and wondered what he would do. Hiding in the near shadows, Harry wanted to see Draco's next actions.
"What? Cat got your tongue, Ferret?"
Draco's eye twitched, but other than that, he remained still, as though carved from ice.
"I think this little Death Eater wannabe needs to be taught a lesson in manners." Ron told his lackeys. They nodded in fervent anticipation. "It's impolite not to answer a question, Malfoy."
Draco quirked an eyebrow, affecting his air of nonchalance easily. Harry watched the cracks widen in his otherwise infallible façade.
"Oh? I apologise, Weasel. I had thought it rhetorical."
The drawl in his voice angered Ron, making his face turn a severe shade of puce. "You had better keep your trap shut, Ferret, if you know what's good for you!"
Draco only smirked, and Ron reached the end of his endurance. Harry almost snorted – Ron's fuse was as short as ever.
With a violent step forward, Ron pulled his wand from his robe, and pointed it threateningly at Draco. Harry growled lowly in his throat, too low for anyone to hear, but was nevertheless instantly on the offensive. No one would hurt Draco. No one would get away with it, not even Ron.
Preparing himself for attack, Harry watched.
Draco raised his wand slightly, but not enough for Ron or the others to notice. The Gryffindors were cheering Ron on, confident that the battle would go to them. Ron was preparing to say the first incantation that came to mind, and Draco already had his shield charm in the forefront of his mind.
"Impedimenta-!"
But Draco had already raised his shield. "Protego!"
Harry was pleased at Draco's response, keeping any damage down to a minimum. He wanted to ask Draco what brought the change in character, but it was neither the time nor the place to begin any discussions.
Ron growled at the failed attack, and was about to cast his second, when Harry stepped out of the shadows and stood in front of Draco.
"Ron." Harry's voice was a growl, menacing and holding back none of the power that surged at the tips of his fingers, power that threatened Ron silently.
Ron stepped back, the jinx dying before it left his lips. "H-Harry,"
Harry glared at his once best friend. "I think you should leave."
For a moment, Ron looked like he wanted to argue, to stay and have it out with Harry, too, but one look at the murderous glint in Harry's darkened eyes, and he thought better of it.
As the Gryffindors were fleeing, Ron called back to Harry. "This isn't who you are, Harry."
Harry contemplated him for a long, tense moment. "Perhaps this isn't who you are, Ron."
Once they were gone from sight, Harry glanced over Draco's body for any injuries.
"Are you okay?"
Draco scoffed, and gave Harry a smile that lit the vampire's heart up with warmth. "Am I okay!? Geez, Harry. It was only a few idiotic Gryffindors. I could've handled it."
Harry smiled. "I'm sure you could."
Draco let it pass, and suddenly looked concerned. "Never mind me, how are you? Why are you out of the Hospital Wing – wait, when did you wake up!?"
Shrugging, Harry stepped forward, into Draco's personal space. He tugged at a lock of perfect blonde hair that had fallen out of place.
"You know me." Harry murmured, lifting the lock to his nose, inhaling the scent. "Mysterious. Full of secrets."
Draco wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Did Pomfrey give you the all-clear? Did you tell her you left? When did you wake up?"
Harry let his fingers flicker over the pale features, soaking in the warmth that lay beneath his touch.
"I woke up just before I found you." He gave Draco's lips a swift swipe of his tongue, swallowing the gasp Draco let slip. "You know me. I move with the wind."
Letting out a frustrated breath, even as he found it difficult to breathe, Draco pondered whether it was possible to get a straight answer out of the vampire at all.
"Fine," Draco said, giving up. "Have your secrets. See if I care."
Harry laughed, and Draco smiled, loving the difference it made in Harry's countenance. He looked more… carefree. Happy.
"And – thank you." Draco said the words with hesitation, looking away from Harry as he fought his blush.
Harry looked at him in question. Draco cleared his throat – why was it so hard to say something so simple? "For standing up to Ron for me."
Harry smiled, and guided Draco's chin so that he could look the Slytherin in the eyes.
"I would do it again," Harry murmured the words reverently, showing what he felt with his eyes more than with his meager words. "For you."
Draco felt the weight of the words, saw the look in Harry's eyes. It touched him deeply, and he knew then that he could be happy with Harry. They were as different as water and oil, and yet they were drawn together, placed like pieces in a puzzle. There was no where Draco would rather be than in Harry's arms, in Harry's presence.
Tears suddenly blurring his vision, Draco threw his arms around Harry in a tight embrace.
"You know I love you, right?" he choked the words out through the lump in his throat, burying his face in the crook of Harry's cool neck.
Harry laid his head atop Draco's, a silly grin pulling at his lips. "I know, love, I know."
They stood there, holding each other for an eternity.
In the Gryffindor common room, Hermione sat with a book open on her lap, reading sporadically as her eyes seemed constantly drawn to the portrait hole.
Ron hadn't come back from dinner yet, which had finished three quarters of an hour ago, and Hermione knew – just knew – that he had gotten himself into some sort of trouble. She shouldn't have left early as she did. But dang if she didn't want to get through the pile of books she had to read.
Finally, just as she was about to mark her place and give up all pretense of study, Ron stumbled through the door after his newly acquired Gryffindor lackeys.
Hermione glared at them until they passed, shame-faced, up to their dormitories. Before Ron could escape, however, she pinned him with her stare, and he inched towards her. His expression reminded her of her four year old cousin when he had stolen the bowl of lollies from the table at Christmas, after his mother had warned him not to.
"Ronald," his face paled. He knew that when she used his full name, she meant business. "What have you done now?"
He didn't meet her eyes, instead stopped a few paces away from where she sat in one of the squishy chairs before the fire's hearth. He shuffled from foot to foot, his posture showing that he was clearly guilty of something.
"I – I don't understand what you mean, 'Mione." He muttered.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, and sat back. She remained silent, and waited.
He gulped.
"It's – I… I mean, well…" he was starting to sweat now, and she crossed her arms, tapping her nails against her forearm as she watched him squirm.
"Well?" her tone was acidic, and he winced.
"Don't be like this, 'Mione!" he burst out finally. "It's not like I did any harm or anything!"
Her shrewd stare turned into a glower as she jumped to her feet. "Any harm!? What is that supposed to mean – what did you try to do!?"
"N-nothing he didn't deserve!"
Hermione took two steps forward, and poked Ron in the chest with a finger to emphasize her anger. "You listen here, Ronald, and I do hope that you come to your senses. But first, tell me what you did. You'd better hope that whatever you did, it isn't irreversible."
Harry pushed Draco against the wall outside one of the private suites that had long since been left unused by any in the castle. No doubt it had once housed some great Lord or Lady, but was now left abandoned and forgotten by the current inhabitants.
Neither boy was thinking of this as Harry slid his fingers around Draco's neck to clutch at the hair at its base, and deepened their kiss.
Draco moaned, tightening the arm he had around Harry's shoulders so that his body was brought closer to Harry's. Already the cold of Harry's skin penetrated the layers of clothes between them, but the fire that licked along Draco's flushed skin could not be abated so easily.
They scrambled to open the door, and stumbled inside as they did, unwilling to let go of each other. Harry immediately shut the door and pressed Draco against it.
Clothes were quickly lost as their purpose was no longer needed, and pressed cold, penetrating kisses along Draco's fevered pulse. The blonde's heartbeat quickened in reply, and Harry ached to feel the rush of drinking Draco's blood, to experience that rush of heat and arousal it gave him.
He growled at the mounting anticipation within him, wanting to give in, sink his fangs into that soft flesh and feast, but he took command of himself with great effort, instead sucking on the hollow at the base of Draco's neck to taste the beads of salty sweat that had collected there.
Draco moaned and pushed his body against Harry's hard, unyielding one, feeling as though his flesh were under a fiery assault. He needed Harry.
Harry was more than willing to comply with the Slytherin's wishes, and the next time Draco found a coherent thought, he noticed that he was on a bed, and Harry was doing amazing things with his mouth.
Groaning his appreciation of that talent, Draco whimpered when Harry pulled away. However, almost immediately a finger inserted itself in his opening, and Draco hissed as he was stretched slowly and thoroughly, torturously. By the time Harry deemed him ready, he was incoherent with his all-consuming need, and Harry felt an answering need within himself.
Feeling the bloodlust rise within him, Harry quickly thrust his aching erection into Draco's tight heat, and the mere feeling of warmth and contentedness it gave him was almost enough to make him explode.
As their passion rose to fevered heights, Harry let his fangs unsheathe themselves, and Draco writhed and arched his body to bring Harry's cool skin into better contact with his own, and just as both felt that they couldn't feel anymore than they already did, Harry sank his teeth into Draco's neck, and his blood flowed freely into Harry's eager mouth.
Draco toyed with Harry's fingers as the pondered all the questions that ran though his mind, all the questions he doubted he'd ever find answers to.
Absently he noted that Harry no longer felt as cool as he usually did.
With an unfathomable expression, Harry leant over Draco and blew in his ear. When Draco's attention was focused on him, Harry quirked his lips into a smile, and Draco relaxed slightly, and shuffled closer to lean his head against the brunette's shoulder.
"What's bothering you?" Harry asked, as Draco held their hands up a little higher, interlacing their fingers as he thought of an appropriate answer.
"I'm just… wondering," He said finally, and Harry regarded him silently, waiting for more of an answer.
"What happens now?"
Harry let the silence stretch between them as he thought about all that those words could mean. But, for the most part, he knew he didn't have an adequate answer for the question. He didn't have foresight, and while he could speculate, he couldn't tell the truth with absolute certainty.
"I don't know," He said it honestly, and with such sincere helplessness and surrender that Draco looked up at him in something akin to surprised alarm.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply.
Harry shrugged and brought their hands to his mouth. He kissed Draco's hand, and smiled a little bitterly.
"You never know, I guess." He sighed. "My life has so many twists and turns that I can hardly keep them all straight in my mind. If I stressed about it too much, I know I'd lose the plot completely, so I try not to think about it."
Draco gave him a mirthless smile, accepting the explanation. He could respect that.
There was silence again as Harry basked in his momentary contentment, and Draco continued to listen to his thoughts.
Finally, he spoke again. "I don't understand any of it," He clenched his eyes shut in frustration, willing his mind to comprehend. "Your sudden vampirism, your interest in me, the whole episode with Voldemort, none of it. It all seems so… unfathomable."
Harry sighed and brushed back Draco's bangs with his free hand. "I know. I don't really understand a lot of that myself.
"But what I do know is this: whatever the circumstances, whatever the reasons, I'm glad it brought me closer to you. I'm happy I had the chance, Draco, and I wouldn't change that for anything."
Draco blinked back tears, hiding his face in the crook of Harry's neck, and grasped his hand tighter. "Neither would I."