Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait and sorry if i didn't reply to all the reviews, i'll loved them all! I'm afraid this chapter has given my quite a bit of trouble- you may be able to tell. I still think it could be better, but i think i just have to let it go for now, and simply post it. Hope you enjoy it anyway. I hope to get the next chapter out quite quickly as the next few shouldn't be as tricky. So, read, enjoy, and maybe review too!

Warnings:SLASH, swearing, graphic violence and badly written action. You've been warned.

A Chase in the Dark

Harry inwardly cursed, as his eye's darted from place to place, shadow to shadow. Through the dark, his gaze was perfectly capable to observe every single movement or flutter, but from experience, he knew that these spirits had the rather nasty habit of simply appearing where ever they wished.

And damn, if they weren't close to Severus's.

His gaze darted about as he tried to calm himself from the rising panic cloying in his veins. They were in trouble, no denying it.

Harry resisted the urge to breath deeply; it wouldn't help him anyways, though the same could not be said for his companions. It was clear from their rattling breaths that they were winded from the long and rapid trek from the house. But Harry could also detect the small trembling of fear in each individual exhale, as they stared with wide unseeing eyes into the dark.

Useless.

The only light in the entire street came from a nearby streetlight.

Stilling any nervous trembles of fear, Harry took a cautious step forward, eyes fixed on a shifting shadow. He skirted silently round it, his feet making no sound on the pavement as he moved, before he halted, not two feet away. The shadow was cast by a post box of all things, but the usual square was darker than it should be, and seemed to writhe and wriggle unnaturally under his stare.

"Harry?" came Hermione's voice, hovering in the air like a fading note.

Not letting the shadow out of his eyes for a moment, he shushed her quickly with a hand. She fell silent.

Thinking, he tilted his head sharply, in an attempt to signal them to move round the corner into the next street, and away from the current danger.

Hermione stared in incomprehension at him, and Colin merely shivered. Ron, however, seemed to get the point, and with a small tug took Luna's limp hand and pulled her with him, moving as quietly as possible.

Hermione and Colin tentatively followed after, still giving him tentative glances.

Their footsteps were anything but silent to Harry's ears, but it was enough, and the shadow didn't give any sign of having heard them. Harry had had bad experiences of these things in the past, but he hoped that this time, he might be able to avoid invoking its attentions.

If he was going to carry out his aim of ensuring everyone safety to Severus's, it was all he could hope for. He did his best to ignore the increased thump of his heart, as the others made their way painfully slowly out of sight.

The others were almost around the corner, stepping warily, and squinting in the directions of Harry and the dim shapes. It was clear that they were bewildered and frightened, as their eye's darted about, unable to focus, imitating a startled rabbit.

It was as they just moved under the cone of orange light from the street lamp that things went wrong.

Colin, who was shivering violently in the cold air, too intent staring blindly into the dark, didn't notice what was in the light, and stepped directly onto some left over broken glass.

With a tug on Hermione's hand, he slipped, and gave a startled yelp as he began to fall backwards, in a cacophony of grinding gravel and vocalisation.

The sound of crunching glass was enough to distract Harry to turn his head with a snap, and as soon as he did, he was rewarded by Hermione's shrill scream splitting the night.

She was staring right behind him, as Ron paled and yelled out "Holy shit!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry just about saw the clawed dark limb coming, and, ignoring the momentary thrill of terror that sent his heart pounding, he barely managed to jump out of the way, to land with grace a few feet away.

Shit.

Not good. Not good at all.

The spirit had burst out of the shadow it had been hiding in, darker than the night around it, even within the faded glow of the light above. Its white porcelain mask, with its slanted eyes seemed to glow menacingly. Harry clenched his fist hard enough to draw blood; visions of what had happened the last time he'd encountered these beings causing him to shiver even as he backed away with haste. This time, though he thought with a glance to the stricken faced and frozen humans, he couldn't afford to be distracted by his own fears.

He darted back with an irritated growl, and reached out, forcibly pushing Luna in the shoulder, towards the road. They had to leave, quickly.

"Go!"

None of them moved for a split second, but then, as if a spell had been broken, Ron gave a white nod, and dragged a petrified Hermione along with him, the others hurrying along after, while the Death Eater made the final few inches towards the brunette.

Snarling slightly as the close proximity gave off the sudden smell of rotting flesh, Harry found he didn't hesitate a moment as his hand automatically jumped to the gun hidden in his waistband. His mind was a blank numbness, as pale fingers closed around the cool handle, just as the spirit made contact, ripping its dark fingers into his forearm, leaving thick gouges as it began to try to pull him towards it, like reeling in a fishing line.

Fortunately, the creature's great strength wasn't enough to stop him struggling, even as blood dripped down his arm in red rivulets. He couldn't afford to panic now. Ignoring the increased, near frantic flutterings of his pulse, he pulled up the silver weapon, and squeezed remarkably gently.

'Bang-click.'

A single shot rang through the night, causing Ron to halt in his hurried steps to glance over his shoulder, just to see the great black thing hiss and screech as it backed off back towards the wall, leaving a bent figure standing under the orange streetlight.

Ron paused, uncertain for a moment. Should he go back to help, or continue on with the others? He warred with himself, before convincing himself that Harry would catch up.

He couldn't bear to bring himself to move back there, no matter how he tried to deny it.

He couldn't ever remember experiencing this kind of raw, primeval fear before. Not once in his life. It was consuming, clouding his mind, and doing its hardest to freeze his limbs, and lock him in place. He could barely hear above the pounding of blood in his ears as his heart frantically beat like a motor. His thoughts were sluggish, reducing his ability to simply think, and the only decision he could come to was to avoid that thing behind him, no matter the cost.

Another screech broke through his frenzied thoughts, and he looked back in growing trepidation to see Harry was nowhere in sight. He was just catching up, right?

He was just about to scream out for Harry to join them, to know where his friend was, when Luna shrieked from somewhere ahead of him. Ron frantically snapped his head forward, only to see-

"Oh shit!"

There was another one, and it had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, perhaps from one the side alleys that littered the street. The adrenalin pounded its way through his system as he ran forward, throbbing away like a drum beat. However, it almost felt as if he was moving through treacle, everything was so slow, taking forever to happen.

The creature seemed to lunge, a great black writhing mass of…something, topped with a white mask as a face, it eyes gleaming red behind them. Luna ran hastily back, for once her glazed eyes bright with emotion, forcefully bumping into Hermione as the creature made a vicious grab for her, hissing strangely as it missed its target. Luna squealed in pain as it just grazed past her, causing her to fall heavily against Hermione, sending the both of them tumbling to the floor, helpless.

Ron continued to move forward, not sure what he was going to do, what he could do, but sure he could…pull them away, keep them running, something!

The sense of being completely helpless was a foreign one to him; he had never quite experienced it like this before. He'd always before lived with the knowledge that he could help, but now, even as he ran to help, he had never felt more futile.

He heard distantly, as if cotton wool had filled his ears, as Luna shrieked as the creature sank its grip into her leg. There…there was nothing he could do. So helpless.

From the corner of his eye, his sight needlessly hazy, he saw Hermione crouch down, sobbing something as she attempted to pull the other girl free by her hands. But her actions were hopeless as well. Luna was calling back out to her, but he couldn't hear what was said, or screamed above the din. Colin was hovering like a twittering bird, eyes glazed over, doing nothing.

There was nothing, nothing to help at all. Ron gave a fleeting glance up the road, but couldn't spot Harry anywhere.

He span around in despair, as Hermione gave a frightened scream; Luna was being dragged back, sobbing. Blood was beginning to stain the ground underneath her, as the creature seemed to draw in a rattling breath of delight. It was a horrible sight, and he saw it like it was nothing more than a dream; fuzzy round the edges and as if it were not really happening.

He barely moved a single step, however, before yet another 'bang!' pierced through the scene. The dark thing instantly crumpled back, hissing, as Luna was able to pull free.

Ron took no heed to the gunman as used the reprieve to dart forward the last few feet and he knelt to scoop up Luna, her leg in its lower portions tattered by long deep furrows, blood spilling down as she whimpered pitifully against his neck. He let her lean on a shoulder as they straightened up, and he followed her misty gaze to see Harry standing nearby. He immediately felt immense relief, disregarding the silver gun that lay innocuously in his hand.

Ron was just about to open his mouth, to speak, to demand an explanation, but Harry beat him to it, speaking in a flat tone.

"Let's go."

"Let's go."

The words were simple, and the others barely nodded, even if Ron felt out of his depth, and they promptly hurried off down the road as quickly as they were able, not wasting breath to speak or question.

Well, accept Ron.

"What the fuck was that thing?!" Ron hissed out, finally finding his voice as they stumbled over the cobbles and loose stones that cluttered the middle of the street.

Harry spared him a glance; even the boy's freckles were pale, his blue eyes roving wildly, but didn't reply, much to the red head's indignation. Harry ignored the other's grimace.

Truthfully Harry thought it best not to open his mouth. The danger, combined with his Hunger, had drawn his fangs, and what with Luna bleeding all over the place, he wasn't sure if he could resist the coppery perfume that niggled on his self-control. It was bad enough that the adrenalin running through his veins was practically singing to him, telling him of his need to feed, to both sate his Hunger, and heal himself from the hurt on his arm. He clenched his teeth together in frustration, even as they began to peak past his lower lips.

Fuck, he really needed to feed. Badly.

He pushed the urge down with force, just like his panic, and jogged silently, glancing behind him sporadically, but he could not see the two spirits that had lingered there earlier. He couldn't much sense them at all, and it left him hopelessly on edge. He felt his pulse rise once more in reaction to the fear of the unknown- of not knowing where they were.

Shit.

He looked ahead; he could see the turning onto Blackwaters Street. They were close now, so close. But whether they'd make it was another matter. He gave a fleeting glace to the others, two of whom were limping worse than wounded soldiers. Colin was shaking worse than wet dog and he could barely make out Hermione at all, hidden behind the lopsided figure that was Luna and Ron.

He could do nothing more than continue to push the others along, towards Severus's.

The street echoed with their footsteps and Luna's whimpers of pain. Everything else was quiet, and it was enough to help nurture a false sense of security, that the worst was past and over now.

As it was, he sensed it no more than a split second before it appeared, right in front of them, and from the left. The girls screamed, and Ron let out a yell as he pulled them back with great difficulty from the initial pounce. Harry could smell the frantic and wild emotions in the air, pulling at his own hunting instincts, sending his heart beat into a freefall.

Cursing, Harry raised the gun for the third time, suddenly horribly aware of the limited number of bullets still left in the chamber. Two.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Removing any indecision from his mind, he surged forward; and shoved into Ron from behind, pushing him, and the others out of harm's way, only to be caught ferociously in the shoulder himself.

Uncaring to the blood soaking through his shirt at a steady pace, he still couldn't help the hiss that escaped him, baring his elongated canines in his anger, green eyes gleaming verdant. His Hunger was eroding any fear he possessed, leaving only immense frustration in its wake.

Couldn't they just get away?

Snarling, and with another hefty push, he used all of his remaining strength to shove the spirit into the dull brick wall that made up part of one the houses, and used the impact to push himself away from the scene with speed.

They were so close; just a little way more to run. The scent of blood was in the air, and Harry could empathise on how attractive a lure it was. He valiantly tried to relief the churning pressing in his stomach, but knew that he was in desperate need of reaching Severus's as well.

He looked ahead, and was relieved to see that the others had used the opportunity to run further on ahead, and by chance had turned the correct corner that would lead them on to safety.

Heart beating a pace against his ribs, Harry sprinted forward, easily outstripping the group to lead them down Blackwaters, though his body screamed in protest as it tried to heal both his arm and now shoulder with his severely limited supply of blood.

Gritting his teeth as they began to ache uncontrollably, he stamped a silent pace against the ground. He could hear Ron panting behind him, and some huffing from another. He sprinted on, ignoring the calls of their fearfully beating hearts, ever mindful of the still-in-pursuit Death Eater, who was gaining ground quick behind them, not deterred for long. He could almost feel it behind them.

So close.

With great relief, he finally swung left onto a short garden path, bashing his way straight through the small metal gate. Nearly banging into the heavy wooden door as he skidded to a halt, he dimly heard a jargon of sounds from behind. He didn't dare to look.

He barely paused for a moment, before he slapped his hand against the wood, the gun still lying limply in his other, forgotten for the time being.

"Severus," he hissed, knowing the other could hear him just fine, "for fuck's sake open up!"

The door remained close for a painful amount of time, though it couldn't have been that long in reality. Harry continued to bash unashamedly on the door; he wouldn't let Severus ignore him- for fuck's sake!

As it was, he nearly hit Severus in the face, as the door was inched open. Harry didn't bother for pleasantries, and roughly pushed himself inside, stumbling over the threshold. He quickly span around reaching out to grab a hold of the nearest person and flinging them inside. As Luna gave a startled cough as she was sent careering into a nearby bookcase, the others were rapidly shepherded inside, before the thick door was promptly rammed shut by Harry. There was a screech from outside, loud and nerve-rendingly close by; a jarring sound to raise the hairs on the back of the neck, and then, silence.

There were five released breaths of relief.

Sighing, Harry collapsed against the heavy wood, feeling the old contours and soft polish pressing into his back. He let his eyes slip closed as he allowed his heart rate return slowly to normal. Relief flooded through him. Leaving his limbs to shake slightly as the adrenalin left him. He almost felt as if he could simply collapse to the floor and fall asleep right that very second.

Safe.

He would have been content to simply remain where he was all day, but his peace, however, was unfortunately rather cruelly short lived.

"Potter," came a poisonously silky voice, "may I enquire as to what you are doing here, and dragging pathetic, terrified mortals along with you? I don't have the time to indulge in any silly little games of yours."

Harry opened his eyes tiredly, his stomach churning for sustenance, renewed in its vigour by the removal of imminent danger and possible death. He surveyed the close to seething Snape with hooded eyes, as well as the said mortals, who had clumped together like a flock of frightened sheep, glancing about their new environment with apprehension, crowding around Luna the most.

He was so tired…

With a groan of both frustration and longing, Harry pushed himself up from leaning against the door grudgingly and strode out to what Severus may class as the living room, the one full of rowed benches. A quick glance revealed it to be almost exactly the same as the last time he'd been here, the benches, the low desk at the front and the darkened wood that made up the panelled walls. The only real difference was the absence of bizarre ingredients from the desk, and the boiling fire behind extinguished, leaving a dusty cold grate instead.

Severus followed, instantly on his heels, swooping in very much like a bat. By his expression, it was clear that he far from appreciated the disturbance of his domain.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Draco sent me," he admitted after a short pause. At Snape's condescending look, he decided to elaborate a little for the man, "He has a visitor at the moment, and thought it best for me not to be present. I didn't think they should either," he indicated the gathered humans with a jerk of the head. Severus merely snorted with contempt, but didn't refute him.

Harry pressed on wearily; he was in desperate need of a feed, and thought that should be the priority, but Snape just had to be difficult immediately. They'd barely escaped death mere moments ago, and he had to explain to this impossible man. He could feel a headache coming on.

"Anyway, the place is crawling with Death Eaters at the moment, so I'm afraid they're going to have to stay here."

If Harry saw the ever-deepening scowl on the other man's face, he didn't make a mention of it, or change his tone. Truthfully, he couldn't be bothered at the minute to be polite. Severus never was with him anyway.

"Though," he muttered, suddenly feeling a lot more embarrassed, "you don't happen to have any blood lying about do you?"

He tried to keep his voice as low as possible, alienating the others from the vampire's conversation. Snape's brow furrowed further, but Harry was sure it was more thought and annoyance, than too much anger on his part. With Severus, it could be a bit hard to tell between his irritated facial expressions.

The man sneered down at him, "Why don't you just use one of your little mortal friends Potter?"

Harry fixed him with a hard gaze, "One, they are not my 'friends'" it was nothing but the truth, " and second, there's no need to get them even more hysterical than they already are."

Severus glanced over to them, as if weighing what the younger vampire said was true. It was clear he was debating whether it was worth having screaming humans in his home. It was a long moment, and Harry desperately wished the man to just accept. The gnawing sensation was beginning to drive him mad, bouncing around his mind, and pressing against his temples with ferocious intent.

With a soft noise of irritation, Severus seemed to decide something, and promptly swept away out a door, leaving a small stream of dust in his wake, before returning almost immediately.

He practically threw one of the hospital order blood packs at him, catching him in the chest.

"And tell your dearest sire not to send you over here again." And with one last look of utter disdain at the situation, Severus disappeared through one of the many doors that connected that room to the next, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Not much caring much about Severus's harsh demeanour, and much more absorbed with the chilled blood in hand, Harry brought it up to his mouth, using a sharp incisor to rip through the plastic with vicious haste.

He leaned back against the desk, unheeding to the wide stares as he tipped it back, letting the dark crimson liquid slide down his throat all in one go, much like as if he was forcibly taking medicine.

It held some of the sweet coppery tang he was already getting more than used to, but any life in it had long ago faded, leaving a somewhat stale aftertaste in his mouth. It did the job fine, easing the pains of his stomach, but now that he was aware what blood could taste like fresh, he was determined never to have to drink from damn blood bags again.

Giving his teeth a quick lick, along with the corners of his mouth, he threw down the empty wrap of plastic in disgust.

It was only then he became fully aware of the intense gazes set upon him. Glancing up, he swallowed uncomfortably as he was met by four horrified and stunned sets of eyes.

…Well fuck.

A/N: Well, Harry'll have some hard time explaining that, won't he? #giggles. Anyway, next chapter should be up soon (and with better quality too i promise). Well, don't be afraid to review, i always like what you have to say, and i'll update soon. Oh! And next chapter, we get to see Lucius...tasty huh?