Draco Malfoy was kept in the Hospital Wing for another two days and Harry knew that whatever had thrown the blonde out of loop it had done its job. He couldn't get the image of the once beautiful teen out of his mind- he was so thin and frail and Harry just couldn't see how Draco could continue what he was doing. It was terrifying to see the proud blonde just crumble before his eyes- he had always thought of Draco yes he had been a prat but he had always been the driving force behind Harry's determination to continue and fight. They would try catching the other out in between classes and at the weekends. Hiding behind tapestries and in secret passage ways hoping to ambush the other and hex them silly. It had kept Harry on his toes, honing his reflexes and reaction- his senses as well as his duelling skills; it constantly forced them both to keep looking over their shoulders. To make sure their rival wasn't about to fling a silent curse at his back that would; effectively render him unconscious for the next couple of hours.

All these years there was one thing no one knew except themselves. Neither Draco nor Harry had defeated each other in all of their proper duels or in these random spontaneous acts of heated mini clashes. They might have gotten the upper hand or bettered their rival but strangely they would always step down and back away when it seemed as if they were going to win. Harry always had thought it was as if Draco didn't want to beat him- and he likewise didn't want to beat Draco. Harry knew he was more than capable of knocking Draco out in a few seconds flat if he wanted to, he also knew that Draco was possibly just as skilled and could do the same.

Harry couldn't understand it- he wanted to figure out and uncover the reasons to why Draco was so… depressing and yet he also didn't want to know, for the fear of the truth. But he wanted to help the beautiful aristocratic Slytherin so much and it hurt him to see such a stunning, proud and truly amazing person fall so hard. Harry wondered when he started thinking of Malfoy as 'amazing' but he didn't care because to be honest the blonde was amazing. He was fantastic at potions- it was of course the Slytherin's best subject- Slughorn would be fawning over him instead of Harry if the raven hadn't the Half Blood Prince's graffiti scrawled book.

He was a talented flier- second to Harry in seeking and was the favourite to win whenever Slytherin played anyone aside Gryffindor. Draco was more than competent at Transfiguration and DADA- Harry frowned, in fact Draco was an all rounder, the only subjects he wasn't good at were the ones everyone either didn't understand or failed at- for example: History of Magic and Divination. Hermione had told him Draco had been incredible at Arithmancy when they did OWLs. He sighed as he passed Peeves who was greasily bowing to the Bloody Baron, a couple of the portraits on the wall greeted him but he ignored them. His head full of just Draco Malfoy. He had checked the Marauder's Map a few minutes ago and the blonde was returning to the Hospital Wing- for a check up.

But now he had to empty his mind for he had a new Occulmency lesson with Dumbledore. He watched as the stone gargoyle revealed the staircase and Harry entered the large circular room. Fawkes wasn't on his perch this time and Harry wondered if the phoenix was off on an errand for Dumbledore. The headmaster himself was standing next to the pensieve and was twiddling his thumbs patiently. Harry stretched, loving the feel of all tension leaving his body as he did so- his bag was killing him.

"Ah I heard of your timely actions towards young Mr. Malfoy Harry. I am pleased to say he has made a full recovery- no doubt you'd like that piece of information."

Harry set down his heavy satchel silently- the books making a soft thud as they connected with the wooden flooring; he looked up into the old wizards' electric blue eyes which twinkled kindly down at him.

"Sir…"

"Put it out of your mind Harry, Severus will and has spoken to him- there is no need to worry. Well naturally you will be worried; he is destined to become your Paramour no?"

Flushing faintly Harry looked away, Phineas Black a previous head raised an aristocratic eyebrow at the raven. Harry cast his gaze over to the Sorting Hat which sat all on its lonesome upon a high shelf in the office. The Gryffindor was struck by the same thought that had crossed his mind during his first time in Dumbledore's office in his second year; was he in the correct house? Would he have done well in Slytherin? Would he have been best of friends with Draco Malfoy? These questions assaulted his brain and Harry desperately tried to clear his thoughts, he gave up though and stared out of the window into the darkening night. Smiling thoughtfully Dumbledore selected a memory and poured it into the Pensieve. Harry came back to himself and sidled up beside the strange wizard and peered into the murky depths of the memory. Dumbledore motioned politely with his blackened claw hand.

"This is a memory if I recall so correctly from Morfin. Now once again I assume you should be able to understand what is going on. After you."

Taking a deep breath for unknown reasons Harry plunged head first into the memory.

When they resurfaced Dumbledore was looking mildly amused as if he had merely been watching a pair of owls squabbling over a kill. Harry however was very disturbed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fawkes reappear at the window of the office and with a wave of a hand Dumbledore caused the window to open and the fire swan like bird fluttered in, cooing a greeting to Harry before returning to his perch.

"He… Tom killed them all! That WHOLE Muggle family!"

"Ah yes, he did- you see because his mother died after he was born he ruled her out of the equation; and searched Hogwarts high and low for his father: Tom Riddle Senior. However it was his 'weak' mother who had been the pureblood witch and his father… the muggle."

"So… Why did he kill them?"

"I haven't a clue Harry- but I have a vague idea; you're the one who can understand Parseltongue. You tell me."

Dumbledore sat down in his high backed chair and surveyed Harry over his half moon glasses which glittered in the candle light, Fawkes shifted, his wings and feathers rustling gently in the background. A candle snapped and flickered as hot wax melted. Harry pondered the situation and chose his words carefully.

"Voldemort… Killed his father after listening to Morfin's story about his mother and how she ran away with his father. But Morfin was charged for murder wasn't he?"

"Yes indeed he was."

"So Voldemort had taken his- Morfin's wand; killed the entire family of muggles- HIS own family; and then came back and oblivated the last remaining descendant of Slytherin other than himself into thinking he had done it, which was why Morfin went peacefully!"

Dumbledore smiled at the raven teen who looked pleased with his revelation- Harry's rather quick high was over as quickly as it had started. Harry sat down on the usual stool he occupied with a thud. It couldn't be that simple though- Voldemort might kill and murder people. But he never killed for fun. His Death Eaters did and did it for him, but he himself never killed for fun- only when he had a reason to and usually it was for the Dark Lords' own personal gain or if the target was a threat- be it the knowledge they possess, a secret perhaps, or an equal.

Like Harry himself.

"But he can't have just killed them all for being Muggles- he just went and killed them!"

"Calm down Harry. But I believe that was half of the reason to why he killed them- yes because they were Muggles, but the other half… I wouldn't know just yet."

"He was wearing the ring you are now Sir."

"Indeed he was; it was his fathers'."

Dumbledore twirled the dark cracked ring on his forefinger and smiled at Harry who picked at the chipped stool- picking at the wood fibres.

"How did you get that ring Professor?"

The wizened old wizard eyes sparkled mysteriously as he hid the ring from sight and Harry knew that that was a tale to be told another day. Nodding the raven picked up his book bag- cringing at the weight. He turned back to the sight of Dumbledore gently stroking his Phoenix's bright and proud feathers.

"I shall send you another message soon Harry. Goodnight."

Harry really didn't know what he was doing, one moment he had been sitting in the Great Hall, across from Ron- who was stuffing his mouth in a rather grotesque manner with fried eggs and the next thing he knew he was outside the hall following someone. Why? His stomach growled as his piercing green gaze, like ice blades- limited like a horse with blinkers; sought out the one person in his line of vision- as if he were looking through a tunnel- Harry swore his being a half bloody vampire was to be his source of eternal agony as was a certain Slytherin. But be it in hatred or love- it was such a fine line now Harry couldn't decide which it really was. The line used to be so bold and Harry had always thought it was hatred- pure dark and unadulterated hate. But now that thick unyielding line had somehow blurred- as if by acid- like ink bleeding through parchment when it got wet. He didn't know anymore.

But fucking Godric, the blonde had been on his mind since… Harry didn't know when. He was so close now behind the Slytherin he could feel the heat radiating off of him. He smelt good- despite his appearance the blonde always smelt good. Harry knew it was rather creepy of him but he couldn't help it. Draco whipped about, the main entrance and the students just inside the Great Hall quietened and paused- waiting to see Hogwarts' two most infamous students would clash this time- Harry because he was the Boy-Who-Lived and was known for his rebellious but brave nature and Draco Malfoy as the Slytherin Prince and his status as the richest wizarding family in Britain. Harry and Draco's fights and their hatred for each other had become legendary; the whole school knew their stories. But normally those were just warped tales and hugely exaggerated. Draco's grey eyes, once soft and full of words and emotions for the Gryffindor were now closed off and very cold indeed. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him this time and they shifted slightly in their huge shoes, their large hands flexing menacingly. But the two 'guards' were slightly wary of Harry- they remembered what he was and the raven could see how nervous they really were to be this close. On the contrary Malfoy didn't give a rats' arse and narrowed his eyes.

"Can I help you Potter? Care to explain why you were just breathing down my neck? Ever heard of personal space?"

Harry took a step back. He hadn't really known why he had followed Draco out of breakfast- all he knew was it was as if the blonde was a magnet. He had been openly stalking Malfoy. His lips thinning Draco tapped his foot impatiently, inspecting his unkempt nails with a cynical and disgusted eye.

"Hello."

Oh just simply marvellous. Draco exploded. And quite rightly so- all the stress had been bottled up and now Draco had a perfect target to release it on.

Harry with all his Seeker born reflexes ducked as a lethal Diffindo streaked overhead to slash into a portrait of several maidens who deserted the picture screaming- reappearing into the next one filled with wise men, followed by an Incendio that blazed scarlet. It fizzled out as it hissed into the cold stone walls of the castle. Standing again the raven wrinkled his nose at the livid Slytherin. Draco's wand was sparking silver stars and the end was sizzling and white smoke issued from the end and his pretty but worn face was scrunched up in anger.

"Really Potter? Hello! You came up to me to say HELLO! HAVE YOU DUNG FOR BRAINS!"

It was deathly quiet, Harry turned to see many students on the double wide staircase watching avidly- it had been a long time since they had had a public fight; usually they would fight over the stupidest things. Although some were quite understandable or actually very serious- this one so happened to be a spur of the moment- I hate you sort of thing. Harry didn't specifically care- the burning stares were normal to him and more importantly- Draco was only interested in him. The blonde in his anger also paid no attention to their gathering audience.

"I should curse you into the next millennium!"

Draco advanced so his smoking wand tip was pressing into Harry's chest. The Gryffindor stood his ground- ignoring the incredible flare of magic that rippled through him and he knew shook through the blonde too. Soon the jeering and betting began as the other students of Hogwarts took sides. Harry noted how nice Draco's neck looked at that specific moment in time- very frail and very white. Harry desperately wanted to see Draco writhing underneath him with dark red inking his porcelain skin his mouth open and breathless as he pleaded for him to stop. Harry took a step back and Draco took another. Step for step, a dance and not a dance; this wasn't as sophisticated as a dance, it held no grace and skill.

"Draco. Run."

Harry finally stopped backing down and stood rigid as he fought the urges inside of him- yes the vampire might have merged with him successfully but it didn't mean he was any closer to controlling it. But he was getting better at leashing it- restraining it. Yet it was a foreign entity within him and thus not really Harry. Harry really didn't know if Draco was thick when it came to danger or just incredibly and stupidly brave. The mercury eyes hardened further and they narrowed again down to dangerous slits.

"Why should I run like a coward Potter?"

Harry didn't reply, but instead a guttural snarl issued from his lips as they drew back to expose his fangs. Realisation dawned and Draco took several slow steps back, slowly backing away, his wand aimed directly at the Gryffindor- his expression no longer furious but replaced by quiet dormant fear. Harry could smell it and see it.

"POTTER! MALFOY!"

McGonagall was striding down the steps of the large atrium towards them, her lined face stern and Harry backed down immediately, cowing his urges and the beast raged inside him. He wrapped his arms round his middle to contain it. It snarled and snarled and Harry could feel a pounding headache erupting violently in his head.

"Fighting boys?"

Harry shook his head mutely; the Gryffindor head turned to the gaggle of students and sent them away.

"Go! Off to class now the lot of you. There's nothing more to see, shoo!"

She turned back to the two teens her face grim.

"Mr Malfoy I recall you have a Care of Magical Creatures class to be attending."

Harry watched as the blonde left, he could tell Draco was trying his damnedest to walk and not run. The fear was terrifying Harry and the last thing he wanted to do was terrify his to be... To be what? Harry snapped out of his thoughts as McGonagall's sharp voice pierced through.

"Potter, were you aggravating Malfoy?"

"No professor."

"I hope not. Now, off to class. I do not wish to see another performance like this again. A poor example to set for your younger peers."

Harry nodded and pushed his way through the busy throng of milling students to where Hermione stood with an unreadable expression on her face and his book bag in her free hand. Ron looked perfectly fine and dandy as he shoved the remainder of his toast into his mouth. Harry sighed as he realised what first lesson it was:

Potions.

Lovely.

Harry smirked at Hermione and she glowered at him as she too realised what first lesson was; at least he was better than her.

It was so nearly the Christmas holidays Harry could die- his workload was ridiculous and not only that… He had to attend a Slug Club party. Hermione looked over her pile of spell books and raised her eyebrows at his 'Draco-Watching'; Harry met her gaze defiantly as he turned a page of the map. Ron was off with Neville in the library doing Charms homework together. Hermione scooted over to look over the ravens' shoulder- 'Draco Malfoy' was in his own respective Common Room, pacing- he was quite alone. She bit her lip and asked him what she had so long ago figured out but saved for some quiet time such as now. The Gryffindor Common Room itself was quietly buzzing as students relaxed and a small game of Gobstones was on in the corner.

"Harry?"

"If you're going to tell me this is obsessive it's not going to work."

"No, Harry it's just that… you are attracted to boys?"

That shocked Harry and he dropped the map in his surprise- recovering he turned to look up at the clever witch, perched on her squashy couch. She stared down at him, her expression set- one that Harry recognised she wasn't going anywhere till she got answers.

"I don't know."

"It's ok you know, in the wizarding world, to be homosexual, its ok- no one discriminates you like they would in the muggle."

"Hermione, tell me one thing. How much did you guess?"

"I noticed how you never so much looked at the girls, even Ginny who isn't like most and is so unhappy with Dean- I thought maybe you'd become interested in her; because well she's a friend and she seems a good match. You instead… your Paramour is Draco Malfoy isn't it? I figured that out because you are drawn to him like a moth to flame- it's obvious, anyone can see it; you are intensely protective and possessive of him. Sorry for making a rather sexual reference but; your attacks on him are like you are marking him- showing everyone he belongs to someone."

"Well you can tell Ginny I'm not her fucking knight in shining armour- if she knows what that is- don't exactly think purebloods exactly had Muggle Fairytales. Yes my paramour is Draco sodding Malfoy and you know what? I don't want it to be."

Hermione crossed her legs and placed her hands folded in her lap. Her critical gaze surveyed the emerald eyed teen quietly. Parchment rustled and quills scratched away in the background as various students did their homework. The fire crackled merrily and warmly in the fireplace. Someone hissed as they lost the game of Gobstones and was squirted by the foul smelling liquid.

"You don't mean that. A vampire always chooses the right person. Deep down he means something to you and you just don't know what yet and that scares you. Because you two are stubborn as mules and haven't looked past the surface, through all your hate you can't accept it."

"Hermione that's not what I'm scared of."

The bushy brunette haired witch scratched her chin, Crookshanks, ever fluffy, bandy legged, squashed nosed and fiery orange hopped onto her lap, his bottlebrush tail curling lazily. She stroked her pet cat absentmindedly her brown eyes curious. Harry swallowed, picking at the sharp edge of a fang with his thumb- a habit he had picked up. He closed the map.

"I don't hate Draco Malfoy anymore. And, I'm scared because… I don't know what that means."

Hermione smiled gently at him and patted him on the head affectionately. Harry wondered why she looked so ecstatic and positively brimming with excitement. He batted her hand away as she attempted to pick a feather out of his hair- he shook his head irritably to get rid of it. She was still gazing at him in that strange manner- like a mother proud of her first born child who had just learnt to say 'Mummy'. Harry shifted his legs, feeling awkward.

Finally Hermione spoke, her voice trembling with quiet triumph.

"It means you're going to be alright. It means you're going to live Harry."