Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR. The Lost Boys belongs to Warner Bros.

A/N: I am fully aware that it's been ages since I posted a chapter for this fic. It is long overdue. I hope those of you who enjoy this fic will forgive me.

Ron walked into Harry's room, and just looked. Ron hadn't seen Harry look that messed up since fourth year and the mess of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry was still wearing his clothes, including that black leather jacket. Ron slowly was beginning to realize that he did not know this Harry. Harry looked as if he had had a rough night, and Ron, for once, was not going to relish in waking Harry up. But he had no choice, his mother was on the phone.

"Harry, wake up. It's Mum." Ron said as he promptly walked over to the blinds and opened them.

Harry moved his head away from the light. "Your mom's home?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "No, Harry. She's on the phone."

Harry collapsed back onto the bed. "What time is it?"

"2-o-clock." Ron replied. This was getting very interesting.

"Give me my sunglasses." Harry groaned.

Ron looked and grabbed them off Harry's nightstand and handed them to him. "You need your sunglasses to talk on the phone? Are you on drugs? Inquiring minds want to know."

Harry showed Ron his middle finger and took the phone from him. "Hello."

"Harry, are you still in bed?" Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley's incredulous tone.

"No, I'm up."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to believe him. "Harry, can you do me a favor? Max asked me out to dinner after work tonight. Could you stay home with Ron?"

"Ron's old enough to stay by himself." Harry argued into the phone.

"I don't need a babysitter, Harry!" Ron whined. Harry shooshed him with a wave of his hand.

"Harry, you come home in the middle of the night. You sleep all day, and I work all day. Ron always stays by himself... It's been a long time-- ever since before Ron's father died-- since someone asked me out to dinner. I really want to go, okay?" Harry heard Mrs. Weasley say over the phone.

"Okay. I'll do it."

"Thanks Harry! You are such a sweetie. Bye-bye!"

Harry hung up the phone and collapsed back onto the bed and rolled his eyes as he replaced his sunglasses.

Later that evening, in the kitchen, Grandpa puttered around the kitchen. Ron was standing at the counter, trying to chop some onions for dinner.

"Anything in here you think might pass for aftershave?" Grandpa asked.

Ron looked around and spotted the window cleaner. "Will Windex work, Grandpa?"

Grandpa's eyes sparkled. "Yeah, let me try some of that!" He squirted some on his hands, took a deep breath and smiled as he patted it over his face.

"Big date tonight, Grandpa?" Harry asked mysteriously as he wandered into the kitchen.

Grandpa looked at Harry uneasily. "Just gonna drop off some of my handiwork to the "Widow" Johnson."

Harry gave Grandpa a lopsided grin. "What ya stuff for her? Mister Johnson?"

Grandpa looked around the kitchen and dashed around Harry. "I'll see you two later."

Ron glared at Harry. "That wasn't funny." Ron started grabbing some bread. "I'm going to make you a sandwich."

Harry looked up and waved Ron off. "Don't bother."

Ron shook his head. "Loose the earring, Harry. It's definitely not you."

Harry glared. "Piss off."

"All you have is attitude lately. Watching too much Tele?" Ron asked.

Suddenly, a cacophony of motorcycles is heard surrounding the house. Harry walks over to the window and peeps through the blinds.

Harry steps over to the door.

"Harry, don't open the door!"

Harry looks out through the blinds covering the window of the door.

"What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked, his voice quivering.

Harry opened the door, and the sound of the motorcycles disappeared. "Go take your bath."

Ron was completely confused by Harry. His friend was changing before his eyes. This wasn't the boy he knew as Harry Potter. It was someone else entirely.

Ron stepped out of his clothes and patted Nanook before getting into the tub. He let the water run warm before dumping a good bit of the bottle of bubble bath into the tub, then calmly turned in the radio.

Harry walked into the kitchen-- feeling thirsty, he took the carton of milk from the refrigerator. Just as he brought the carton to his lips, a fierce pain ripped through his guts. He dropped the milk onto the floor. The milk spattered all over the kitchen floor- but Harry never noticed. Something else had taken hold. Slowly, he crept up the stairs towards the room where Ron was bathing. Before he knows what's come over him, he slammed open the door to the bathroom. Nanook snarls and lunges.

The last thing that Ron saw was Nanook and Harry falling together down the stairs.

Ron jumped out of the tub, threw on his bathrobe, and ran down the stairs after them.

"Harry? Harry, are you there?"

Ron looked around in the darkness. "Nanook?" There is no sound. "What about Nanook? What did ya do to my dog, you asshole!" Ron felt along the wall and switched on the light. There, at the bottom of the stairs was Harry, his hand bloodied.

"He was protecting you."

Ron looked behind Harry to the hallway mirror. Harry's reflection had gone transparent. Ron opened his eyes wide. "Your reflection." Ron said pointing at the mirror. Harry turned around and looked.

Ron waved his hand and saw it through Harry's reflection. "You've become a creature of the night, Harry. Just like in those comic books!" Ron starts darting up the stairs. "You're a vampire, Harry. My own friend, a damn vampire. Just wait til Mom finds out, buddy!"

"Ron, wait. Ron!"

Ron ran the rest of the way up the stairs, Nanook running behind. "Stay back!"

Harry tried to approach, but Ron just moved more quickly up the stairs. "Just let me explain, Ron. Wait a minute! Ron!"

"Stay away from me, Harry."

Ron slammed and locked the door to his room behind him. Nanook whimpered.

Ron snatched the comic book Fred and George had given him from his nightstand, grabbed his phone, and called the number his brothers has scrawled across the back of the comic book.

"You did the right thing by calling us, Ron. Does Harry sleep a lot?" George asked.

"Yeah, about all day."

"Does the sunlight make him freak out?" George asked.

"He's taken to wearing sunglasses in the house."

"What about bad breath? Long fingernails?" George asked.

"His fingernails are a bit longer, but I think he's always had bad breath."

"He's a definitely a vampire. Here's what you need to do." Fred told Ron.

"Get yourself a nice sharp hawthorn stake, and drive it right through his heart." George said, trying not to sound excited.

"I can't do that! He's my friend." Ron couldn't believe his brothers sometimes.

"Okay, we'll come over and do it for ya. Won't cost much." George said mischievously.

"No!" Ron protested.

"Well, better get yourself a garlic t-shirt, bro. Or it's your funeral." And with that, George promptly hung up.

Harry stumbled into his room, a dazed expression on his face. He flopped down on his bed carelessly. He still couldn't believe everything that was happening.

Ron desperately grabbed the phone book. Finally, he managed to locate the number for the restaurant where his mother said she'd be.

Harry drifted almost to the point of sleep. His hair gently blew about his head. Suddenly something hard and flat hit his nose. He opened his eyes. He was lying against the ceiling! Harry turned his head, and saw his bed far below him. After a struggle, he managed to turn himself around and frantically tried to grab at something to pull himself down with- but he's was up to high. Harry finally managed to grab the cord on the window blind, but the window is open and soon, he floated out of the window and the only thing keeping him grounded was the flimsy nylon cord.

Ron snatched the phone when he heard the ring. "Hello?"

"Ron, honey, is everything alright?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Mum, I think we need to have a really long talk about something." Ron said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

Harry can feel the cord beginning to give. "Help!" He yells from outside Ron's window.

"Ron, what's going on over there? I'm starting to get worried."

Outside, Harry managed to snag hold of the telephone from his room, the mouthpiece dangled near his mouth.

"What are you doing, Ron? Is that Harry breathing like that?"

"We need to stay calm." Ron watched as Harry's feet floated in the pane of his window.

"Calm? Calm about what?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice verging on great concern.

"It's nothing...nothing."

Harry moaned, trying to pull himself closer to the house.

"Who is making that noise?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Mum, can't talk on the phone. It's about Harry." Ron's eyes grew wide as Harry looked at him from the window, holding the mouthpiece of the phone near his lips.

"Don't listen to him, Mrs. Weasley. He doesn't know what he's saying." Harry motioned for Ron to open the window, and Ron completely looses control.

"Ma! MA! He's coming to get me! He's gonna kill me!"

"Oh my God!" Mrs. Weasley dropped the phone and fled the restaurant. Severus Snape watched helplessly as Mrs. Weasley ran to her car.

Harry's body kept floating skyward, extending the phone cord to its limit.

"Open up, Ron!" Harry cried frantically.

Ron moved as far away from his window as possible. "Stay Back!"

The phone cord scraped against the side of the house. Harry tried to grab onto the side of the house, but there is nothing to grab onto.

"Ron, help me! Open up! Help me! Ron, open the window!" Harry can feel the phone cord beginning to give out.

Ron's eyes are wide. "Never! I just knew it!"

Harry looked pleadingly at Ron. "I'm not!"

Ron stared at Harry incredulously. "Then what are you, the flying nun?"

The cord on the phone started to twist and fray. "I'm your friend, Ron. Help Me!" Harry said desperately.

Ron looked at the window and then back at Harry.

"Come on, Ron. Open up!"

Ron took a deep breath. He couldn't take it any longer and hoped that he didn't make a big mistake. He opened the window and helped Harry climb into the house.

Harry collapsed onto the floor, holding onto the window sill. He pulled Ron down with him. "We have to stick together, Ron."

Ron took another breath. "What about mom?"

"Just don't tell her anything."

Ron stared at Harry in disbelief. "I don't know, Harry. This isn't like getting a "D" on your owls."

"We'll work it out, Ron. Okay? We'll work it out."

Ron shook his head. Things were too far out of control. "Okay, Harry."