Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, etc.
Warning: The story is almost completely AU and contains mature content, homosexuality, incest and character OOC. Now that you've read this warning, it's up to you to continue reading or not.
Rating: R / Mature
A/N: This chapter is a lot more serious and sadder than the first one. Expect a dramatic ending.
Bonds of Darkness
IMPORTANT: READ THE WARNING AND A/N ABOVE BERFOREHAND!
The Gryffindor common room was alive with cheerful chatter about the coming Valentines' celebration. Couples were secretly planning on getting a special something for their special someone. And it sickened Harry to no ends.
"You didn't come down fo breakfast again. No appetite?" asked Ron.
No desire to see or speak with Draco actually. Since that night, Harry hadn't been able to look at Draco in the eye receiving a smirk. It was embarrassing and Harry rather he'd not face Draco right now.
Harry nodded dully and returned to scribbling the last lines of his Transfiguration assignment. Ron put an arm around Harry and leaned over him to get a look at the paper.
"Still not done?" asked Ron. "I had Hermione help me with mine yesterday night."
Harry pushed Ron away in annoyance. "Go away. You're giving away 'I'm in love' vibes."
Ron stuck out his tongue. "You're just bitter because you haven't had a shag in months."
A foot connected with Ron's shin that sent him yelping and hopping on one foot. Harry made a face at him and returned to his paper. "Correction, Ron, I haven't had a shag since ever. I'm a virgin, remember?"
Ron blinked. Thrice. "You are? Bull, Harry. Most guys our age have already banged or gotten banged. What are you waiting for?"
Harry dipped his quill into the inkpot. "Nothing. I'm not interested."
Ron put his hand on Harry's forehead. "Are you having a fever? Or maybe you're actually a woman without tits. Come on, no dude is not interested in sex."
"Beat it," said Harry. He finished his homework and packed up, getting ready for class. "I'm not counting on living for very long, so I can't waste time on sex."
"What makes you think so?"
"My lifeline," said Harry, pointing at his hand. "It's super-short."
"You're starting to believe that Divination rubbish, aren't you?
The cauldron had tipped too much and its entire contents spilled forth. A purplish potion dirtied the dungeon floor.
"Potter! Clean it up at once!" snapped Snape.
Potions was the last class for the day and it had been particularly difficult today. Snape was feeling moodier than usual and had snapped at every single Gryffindor. Harry cleaned the floor quickly gathered his things.
Everyone else had gone. Ron and Hermione left early for dinner. Somehow, when three people were best friends and two of them fell in love, there was no room for a third wheel.
Harry walked along the corridor and didn't feel a spell hit his shoes. His shoelaces untied themselves and the shoelaces of his left and right shoes twined together, tripping him in the process. Harry dropped his things and fell face first to the floor. He cursed when the cork of his inkpot slipped out and all his ink spilt on the floor.
The jet-black haired boy cleaned the mess with a wave of his wand but simply could not figure out how to undo the complicated knots with his shoelaces.
"Let me do it," said Draco coming from behind.
Harry jumped slightly in surprise then scowled angrily. Why did it have to be his brother? Why did the Slytherin common room have to be so damn close to the dungeons?
Draco was wearing that irritating smirk again, as though implyinh that Harry had done something wrong.
"I can handle it on my own," replied Harry. But he couldn't. So he kicked off his shoes and tucked them under his arm, choosing to walk only with his socks.
"Oh, let me help you, Harry. You look ridiculous," said Draco. He reached out for Harry's shoes but Harry slapped his hand away. Harry didn't look annoyed. He looked morosely heart-stricken actually.
"If you're here about last night, you don't have to worry," said Harry. "I won't tell anyone what I saw."
"Me? Worry? No, I bet you don't want to tell anyone that you got aroused by seeing your uncle sucking on your brother."
Harry smiled. It was so sad and as un-happy as a smile could be that Draco began to worry. "No," said Harry. "I guess not."
Draco frowned. "What's…wrong with you?"
"You're right," said Harry. "I do look ridiculous." He transfigured his quill into a pair of scissors and snipped off the knotted shoelaces. He slipped into his shoes and walked away. Had he looked back, he would've seen Draco look at him, worried, concerned; a crack in the illusion of hate he created. Draco punched the stone wall in frustration.
"Damn you, Harry."
Hermione thrust a heart-shaped card at Harry. "Come on, Harry. Just fill it up."
"I'm not participating in this stupid game," protested Harry. "How did Dumbledore come up with it anyway?"
"He didn't. The Head Girl did and Professor Dumbledore merely agreed to let her do it. It's fun, Harry," persuaded Hermione.
"So why aren't you joining?"
"I already have a boyfriend. This game is for people who are single. Meaning you, Harry."
"I'm perfectly happy being single," said Harry stubbornly, and left alone, he added in his head. He looked at Hermione earnestly. Love had made her happy and slightly more happy-go-lucky. Good for her.
"Don't be such a spoilsport. Just write your name on the card and the organising committee will pair you up with someone for Valentines' Day."
"Highly unlikely, Mione. The head of the organising committee is Cho Chang. She's still bitter because I refused to set her up with Draco. She's bound to pair me with someone I totally hate just to see me squirm. Plus, if you're so determined, why don't you just write my name yourself?"
"I can't. The application box rejects any card which has a name which isn't written by its owner. To avoid tricks and all that."
Lucky for me, thought Harry.
"Harry, if you don't do this, you're going to end up all alone for Valentines' Day again!" protested Hermione.
Harry stood up from his seat before the common room fire and made for the exit. "I don't care any more, Mione," said Harry dispiritedly. "Go shag Ron or something. Just leave me alone." When the Fat Lady closed the entrance behind him, Harry realized he didn't know where to go.
It was getting dark and it was past curfew. Perhaps he could lie down on the Quidditch pitch and gaze at the stars. That always soothed him. Perhaps it was because there was light illuminating from the sky, assuring him that pitch black darkness could not happen out of doors. He had always been afraid of the dark.
The dark had always injected fear into his heart. Complete darkness. Pitch black.
To the Quidditch pitch then.
He made it without getting caught. Lying down on the freshly trimmed grass, Harry took in the fresh night air and looked heavenwards. There was a full moon out tonight and it was beautiful. It bathed Harry in a luminous glow that almost made Harry feel otherworldly.
The moon had been out the night he saw Sirius take blood from Draco as well. Blood crept to his cheeks again. Harry reprimanded himself silently. It was none of his business. It was up to Draco if he wanted to let Sirius suck his blood, even though they looked like they were having sex. Harry's cheeks grew warmer.
Other boys his age were always talking about sex. Harry was the only one in his year who was still a virgin. Harry felt no embarrassment at this fact. It was true, he hadn't the time to think about making love to some girl he hardly even knew.
Harry brought his hand in front of his face and glared at his short lifeline. It was short. Too short. One third of Ron's. It hadn't grown longer as he grew older either. Maybe he was already doomed to die at early age. Harry didn't really mind it.
His life had been a harsh one. He had been switched at birth when he was born. And the parents that mistook him for their son ran a whorehouse. They forced him to clean up after the customers and never let him out. He did not attend elementary school and spent his time cleaning dirty bed sheets and tending to the needs of the prostitutes who worked there until when he ran into Draco and his real parents in a grocery store when running errands one day.
The real son of the whorehouse owners had then died months ago because of a weak heart. And Harry's real parents had been astounded at how similar he looked to James, the father.
As fate would have it, a robbery occurred at the grocery store and Harry was taken hostage. His chest was accidentally pierced with a knife and he was rushed to the hospital. James who had obtained a small cut in an attempt to save him went to the hospital as well, accompanied by his family.
When James offered to donate some of his blood to Harry (who was in need of a blood transfusion), the hospital staff ran a complete scan of James' blood, one thing led to another and James finally found out that Harry was his real son. He took Harry out of the whorehouse.
Ever since then, Harry had been living with Draco and his real parents. Although it had been nice living with them and Draco was nice to him (before they went to Hogwarts, that is), an empty void remained within him. The first few years of his life was spent with full of abuse, made him somewhat bitter.
Having worked before in a whorehouse and was forced to watch the dirty lovemaking of others had given Harry an aversion to anything related to sex.
What is love? Sweet meaningless words of promise? Chaste kisses and embraces in the hallway? Cheap sex? A one-night stand?
If that was true then Harry didn't want to be loved. Such a short lifeline, surely he would not live long enough to experience love. Surely, he would die soon. Surely –
Harry sat up as he sensed a presence flit behind him. He scanned the area but it was too dark to really see anything. Was it one of the ghosts? If he got caught, its detention for sure! Harry got on his feet and tried to exit the Quidditch pitch without making any noise.
Suddenly, a hand came from behind and grabbed Harry. Before Harry could react, two hands circled his body and trapped his body effectively. Harry struggled and tried to scream for help. But before he could, someone beside him spoke up.
"Must you be so rough with him?" His voice sounded familiar. Uncle Remus? So that must mean that the one trapping Harry was…
"I'm being as gentle as I can," growled Sirius. "He won't stop writhing."
"Maybe you should let him go," suggested Remus.
"You know I can't," said Sirius, strangely serious.
Harry widened his eyes in horror. Uncle Sirius wasn't going to do that, was he? Harry kicked Sirius but it had no effect. Vampires were indeed stronger than humans. Harry resisted relentlessly. "Do you really think I'm just going to let you take my blo – oH!"
A pair of fangs pierced Harry's neck and blood spilled forth. Sirius latched his mouth onto Harry's skin, sucking slowly but becoming more violent at every intake of blood. Harry could feel his blood rushing out of his neck. His body felt weak.
His energy was leaving him. He gave in and slumped against Sirius' hard torso. Actually, he practically melted against it as he mewled deliciously. Harry's cheeks coloured as he heard that embarrassing noise escape from his mouth.
Harry looked at his watching uncle. Remus' eyes never leaved him and his smile never seemed more heartbreaking.
Sirius sucked hard and released him. Harry fell to the grassy ground, his knees and palms breaking his fall. He was panting like mad. Perspiration beaded his forehead. He glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eyes.
The vampire was also looking at him with the same sad smile. Harry scowled with the little energy he had left. Don't look at me like that. I'm not helpless!
"You're quite delicious," said Sirius, "but something is wrong with you. You are empty."
The last three words echoed mockingly in their trueness. Harry glared at Sirius. "You looked into my thoughts, didn't you?" he croaked.
Sirius nodded. "Being a vampire has its advantages. For instance, I can read minds; I can even sense another's presence. Come out, Draco."
Harry whipped his head in the direction of the Quidditch pitch entrance and was rewarded with a sharp pain in his neck. He clasped his hand over his wound. He was still bleeding.
A blonde boy emerged from the entrance like a ghost. He approached the vampire. Harry was too distracted by his wound to notice the white hot silent anger that emanated from Draco's very being. For a moment, he did not speak. But when Sirius tried to say something, Draco slapped him. Hard.
The sound of the slap resonated in the empty field. Sirius put his hand on his cheek in surprise. His cheek felt hot. The slap had been that hard. Sirius roared. "What do you–"
"Who gave you permission to touch my brother?" demanded Draco, his voice sharp and clear, cutting through the peace of the night.
"Draco, this is for Harry's own good," said Remus, stepping up to defend his lover.
"His own good? Are you serious?" snapped Draco angrily. "You already take blood from me, why involve Harry?"
Sirius looked like he wanted to say something but Remus held him back. "I'm better with words," he said. "I think I should do the explaining."
"Good. Start now," said Draco coldly. Remus flinched slightly. Draco was really angry.
"Draco," started Remus, "Harry has to die tonight."
"W-what?" asked Draco, his voice laced with disbelief, anger and fear.
"It is written in the book," said Sirius. "The book which instructs on which victim a vampire can kill or cannot kill. Harry is on the death list. It is inevitable that I or some other vampire kill him."
"No," said Draco, moving to stand between Harry and his uncles. "I won't allow it."
"This is beyond you or me, Draco," said Remus. "Stand aside."
"No. You can't kill him," said Draco, angrily. "I've lost one brother. I can't lose another one."
"I'm sorry, Draco," said Remus sadly.
"Remus...Sirius...please don't take him away from me," Draco begged softly.
"I have drunk from him once," said Sirius. "Now I will only have to take the second drink and deprive him of any blood. I'll make it painless. Move aside, Draco."
"No!" roared Draco.
"I said move aside."
Harry wanted to stuff his fingers in his ears. Why was everyone being so noisy? Why couldn't they argue softly? He was having an unbelievable headache. He felt someone's arms embrace him tightly. He looked up. He saw Draco. His brother was crying.
What was going on? Draco wasn't crying on his account, was he?
Sirius moved, gifted with the speed and agility of a vampire and threw Draco aside. "I'm sorry." He picked Harry up and plunged his fangs into the freshly-made wound. Harry groaned in pain.
"NO!" screamed Draco, picking himself up from the ground. Remus pinned him to the ground, preventing him from stopping Sirius. Draco thrashed violently against Remus. "I won't ever forgive you if you don't let me go."
"Harry is going to die whether or not Sirius drinks from him. It's better this way," said Remus.
Anguish is said to be a powerful fuel. Draco had not believed it. But how else did Draco manage to throw off a werewolf? Still, it was too late.
Sirius laid Harry on the ground. Harry was white and unconscious. Draco pushed Sirius away and shook Harry by the shoulders. "Harry, wake up! You have to wake up!"
They say snow falls...
Harry did not wake. His head lolled back and forth like the dead.
…when you meet an angel.
Draco cried, tears falling unchecked. "Harry, no, Harry, please wake up."
I can feel snow on my face…
"Harry, wake up!"
…it's wet…
"WAKE UP!"
…are you the angel?
"HARRY!"
The dreadful cry filled with love and desperation echoed throughout the castle and brought out the morning sun.
A/N: This is not the final chapter.