Draco left his room at sunset nearly two weeks later, ready for a dose of his blood replacer and an evening with Harry. He opened the cupboard in the kitchen where the bottles of his potion were kept. He picked one up. It was empty. He shrugged, set it on the counter, and grabbed another. Empty. He took out a third. Empty. Panicking slightly, Draco dropped to his knees, digging through the bottles. Empty. Empty. Empty. He sat down, fingers digging into his hair.

'No. No. No. No no no no no no no no!' The word echoed inside his head. They couldn't be gone. They couldn't. No. He needed them.

"What's wrong?" He looked up into Harry's glimmering emerald eyes.

"It's gone. The potion. They're all empty," Draco explained, moving aside to let Harry see for himself. The brunette moved a few bottles around.

"Hm. Guess I'll have to get a hold of Snape." He moved into the sitting room, kneeling before the fireplace and taking a pinch of floo powder. He stuck his head into the hearth and dropped the powder into the grate. "Spinner's End." Green flames sprung up and Draco watched tentatively from across the room, his nails digging into his own skin. God, he was hungry.

Harry looked around the dark, empty sitting room before him. A thick layer of dust covered the tables and shelves. It didn't look like anyone had been in the house for quite some time. He looked to his left. There, by the sofa. Was that a pile of robes? He spotted something pale—a hand. And it was… He pulled back, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

"What?" Draco asked, kneeling by his side in an instant. "What's wrong?"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"He's dead. Snape. I don't think anyone knows yet. Voldemort must have figured out…" Their eyes met, both filled with a mix of worry and fear. "I think we're going to have to find someone else to make your potion, Draco."

"Has there been any word from Remus?" Draco asked two days later. He'd been fighting his hunger as best he could, keeping his distance from Harry when necessary.

"None," Harry replied, tossing the newest letter from the Ministry into the fire. "They've no idea when they'll be back. And so far they've found no one who's experienced enough to make the blood replacer." Draco closed his eyes, his hands clawing the sofa unconsciously. "How long do you think you can handle it?" Draco shook his head.

"Dunno. A week, maybe longer if…." He opened his eyes, looking straight at Harry. He stood and stepped up to the brunette, cupping his face with both hands. "I'm going to have to stay away from you."

"Dray—"

Draco shook his head. "Don't argue with me. It's too dangerous for me to be around you. I'm going to stay in my room, and I don't want you to visit me. Do you understand me, Harry? No matter what you hear, you have to stay away." He pulled Harry into a hug, kissing the top of his head. "I don't want to hurt you." Harry nodded, hugging Draco tightly.

"I understand." Draco pulled away and disappeared into his room, Harry looking worriedly after him.

Pain. Searing, burning pain. Draco clawed at the bed, gathering the sheets in his fist as his body writhed in agony. So hungry….he was so hungry. His fangs were always down now. No amount of concentration could make them go away. He could smell Harry every time he paused outside the door, could hear his pulse. He licked his lips, half of him dying for a taste and the other cursing himself for even thinking of it. He didn't know for sure how long it had been, but he had a feeling over a week had passed—closer to two. He had to hold out. Just a little longer, just till Remus could get back…a few more days…that was all.

He knew Harry was going to come in before the knob even turned. Draco huddled in the corner of the bed, gripping the mattress as tightly as he could as if it would hold him back. Nothing could hold him back if the urge took him.

"Draco?" Draco shuddered, fighting the urge to pounce and dig his fangs into the beautiful throat. "Draco, it's me. It's Harry."

"I told you…I told you not to…"

"I know. I know you did. I'm sorry. I just…I'm worried about you."

"You should be worried about yourself." He clenched his teeth, fighting his hunger, his instincts. "Don't you understand?" he hissed. "I could kill you!"

"But you won't. I know you won't. I trust you."

"I don't."

"You're stronger than this, Draco. You're not a monster. You can beat this." Draco scoffed, looking up at the brunette for the first time. Harry gasped, and Draco didn't blame him. He could only imagine what he looked like—fangs shining even in the dim light, his eyes wild and hungry.

"Do you have any idea how fucking good you smell? How fucking hard it is not to drain you?" He groaned and looked away, his fingers gripping his hair and pulling hard. He hoped the pain would distract him; it didn't even come close. "Get out," he whispered.

"Draco…"

"Get out!" Harry hesitated for a moment or two, and then Draco heard him sigh and leave the room closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry."

The next time Harry came to see him, Draco didn't have to fight any urges. He was too weak. Amazing what two days could do. He laid helpless on the bed, his eyes heavy. Harry gasped at the sight of him and hurried to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.

"Draco," he whispered. "You're getting worse."

"Any….any word?" Draco's voice was hoarse, weak, barely audible even in the silence.

"None. How much longer can you…?" Draco shook his head weakly.

"Not long. Another day or two, maybe."

"Fuck." Harry looked desperately down at him. "We have to do something."

"There's nothing."

"Yes there is." Harry looked down at his own wrist. Draco could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"No."

"Draco—"

"No. Too dangerous."

"I won't let you just waste away like this." He held his wrist up an inch from Draco's lips. "Drink."

"No."

"Draco, do not argue with me. Now drink." Draco watched him for a moment or two. What was Harry thinking? He could die. Draco had never fed from a human, had never tasted their rich blood. What if he couldn't stop? What if he drained him?

"Harry…"

"Come on, Draco. I'll sit here all night if I have to."

Draco sighed weakly, admitting defeat. His fangs had retreated the previous day. He lacked the strength to bring them back. "I can't."

"Draco—"

"My fangs. I can't… too weak." Harry pulled his wrist back, looking thoughtful. He drew his wand from his pocket, took a deep breath, and ran the tip along his wrist. Blood appeared in its wake, gruesome against Harry's tanned skin. He moved his wrist back to Draco's lips.

"Drink." Draco did as he was told, lapping at the blood. He groaned, sucking at the wound. Harry closed his eyes, trying to decide if this experience was uncomfortable or pleasurable. Under the circumstances, he thought it best not to ponder that point just now. Draco grew stronger as he drank, finally reaching up to grip Harry's arm, moving the wound closer to his mouth. His fangs descended and he pierced Harry's skin, drawing forth fresh blood flow. Harry gasped, his fist clenching for a moment or two.

Draco kept drinking, feeling his strength return with each mouthful. He saw Harry's eyes flutter closed, watched him fall to the bed, weak and unmoving. He saw his breath become shallow, heard his heartbeat slow. He had to stop. Anymore and he would kill him. Draco closed his eyes, fighting with himself.

'Stop, Draco. You have to stop this.'

'So good. He tastes so good.'

'You'll kill him.'

'So hungry.'

'Draco, stop. You are not a monster. You're stronger than this. Fight it.' He felt his fangs retract and he drew his mouth away from Harry's wrist, wiping a few stray drops of blood from his lips. He turned his gaze to Harry and felt his heart freeze.

"No, no, no. Fuck." He pressed his fingers to Harry's throat. He was still breathing, though barely. His heart was still beating, though weakly. He'd stopped just in time. Draco moaned, cradling Harry's head in his lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."