A Place to Call Home

Favorite Students

Disclaimer: On the new book that just came out, did anyone see my name anywhere on it…no didn't think so.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, I'm really surprised at the positive response I've got for this story. I hope this one is up to everyone's standards. Also, I'd like to take this chance and plug my two newest fics, Existence and Switched: Chance or Destiny. They're AUs, but I really like the way they're turning out. I'd love if I could get some more criticism and comments on them. Finally, if there are any questions, comments, or criticisms: please review!

Summary: (AU) A vampiric Draco who finds himself with a new blood donor in Harry Potter must now face the challenges of Hogwarts anew and this time he has more than just himself to worry about. DMHP.

"Today we're going to make a mild restorative potion. For those of you who have even the slightest competency in potions, this may come in handy-" Snape's eyes pierced through the fringe of hair that was covering Harry's eyes. "For everyone else, I suggest that you try not to blow anything up." Snape tapped the board. "Begin." he snapped, already stalking into his office.

"Blimey Harry," Ron whispered, "You're like Snape's favorite student."

"What are you talking about?" Harry muttered back, gathering his belongings. "He hates me, Ron. Trust me on that."

"Then why does he always look at you when he mentions 'competency'. He even smiles at you sometimes- well, it's more like a leer, but-"

"Maybe," Hermione interrupted, ushering the two first-years towards the potion cabinets, "It's because Harry's doing very well in this class."

Ron snorted. "Well, I think Snape-"

"Really Harry," Hermione cut in, yet again, "I do think it's wonderful that you've started to pay so much attention to your studies. You never did before and I was starting to wonder what would become of you when…"

Picking up his supplies, Harry steadily tuned Hermione out. So Snape wanted him to learn how to make a strengthening potion. Wanted him to learn bad enough that he'd rearrange an entire curriculum to teach him. Either Snape really wanted to get rid of him after he gave him blood, or well…he didn't claim to have any knowledge of the workings of Snape's inner mind.

Opening his book, Harry flipped to the right page near the back and stifled a yawn. Rubbing his eyes, he tiredly focused on the instructions page. The dreams had been almost continuous all through November, but his first Quidditch match was soon- and that was probably why Snape was showing him how to make a restorative potion: so he wouldn't fall off his broom during the match in three days.

More cheerful now that he could put a reason to Snape's actions, Harry lit a fire under his cauldron and stirred in three newt tails. The potion turned a light blue and Harry fervently stirred it twelve times clockwise before dropping in a handful of diced slugs. The potion hissed and puffed up hazy smoke. Harry peered through the smog; the consistency looked about-

"Wrong, Mr. Potter, the consistency is completely wrong." Snape smacked the table next to Harry, making him flinch. "And the color is the wrong shade of blue."

Harry gritted his teeth. "The instructions say it should be a light blue, Sir."

"But not quite that shade of blue, wouldn't you think, Mr. Potter?" Snape sneered.

"I'd say it was about right."

"Well, "about" doesn't make it in Potions, Mr. Potter. One point from Slytherin and see me after class" Snape sneered at him and stalked away, robes swirling.

Ron and Hermione eyed him sympathetically. So much for being his favorite student, they seemed to say.

"You're starting to get bags under your eyes." Snape announced, closing the door and facing Harry with a disapproving look on his face- not that his face ever wavered from its full out sneer anyway.

Harry glared at him. "That has nothing to do with my potion, which there was nothing wrong with by the way."

"The color was wrong." Snape insisted, and then immediately switched topics, "Why aren't you sleeping at night?"

"The color was fine." Harry argued, "You're head is just too far up your arse to see it!" he snapped, irritated by all the intruding questions.

Snape stiffened and for a fearful second Harry was sure that Snape was going to hit him, but he visibly reined himself in, which was good since he didn't know what Draco would do if he came into Defense class with a huge bruise on the side of his face. Instead Snape tapped the top of his desk and suddenly Harry knew his punishment was going to be a lot more painful than a sharp smack.

"I…I've already eaten." Harry said evasively, "I'd make a mess of your desk if we were to do this now."

"Up," Snape commanded, "Now." he added dangerously.

Quickly, Harry scrambled onto the table and perched on the edge of it. Snape took forever to get ready for him. He had to personally inspect every cauldron and work place (making derisive comments at the Gryffindors' ones). Then he had to carefully label and assess each potion, assigning grades and usefulness to each one. Harry was appeased to see that his potion was good enough for infirmary work, but oddly enough, sitting there and waiting for Snape to finish up felt like when he was guiltily waiting in Arthur's study to be punished for some transgression or another. Harry squirmed, but refrained from saying anything.

Finally, Snape finished grading the rest of the potions and walked up to him. Frowning, he tilted Harry's neck and lowered the high collar to reveal two faded bite marks, the first he had ever received. "That marks your ownership, doesn't it?" Snape breathed, his mouth uncomfortably near Harry's throat.

Harry stopped himself from swallowing. If he did, he'd feel the sharp indentations of Snape's teeth poised to break skin. "It's not ownership." he whispered, "It's mutual; it's always been mutual." Then remembering what he had said to Tom earlier in the month. "Anyway, I'm not his blood donor, he's my vampire."

Snape barked out a laugh, still hovering over Harry's throat. "Call it whatever you like, you foolish little boy, but it is what is it. You'll never change that, just as you'll never change Draco's nature."

"Draco's nothing like he was before."

"Of course, he puts on a good act for you so you play nice with him, but do you really think that he's ever stopped killing or changed his ideals at all. He still thinks vampires are superior creatures. He only pretends for you- why do you think everyone distrusts him?"

"They do so trust him! Hermione and…and Ron, even Molly and Arthur trust him!" Harry suddenly yelled.

"Yes, with your life perhaps, because he is so indebted to you, but with nothing else. Haven't you ever noticed the way everyone acts nice to him when you're around, but never when you're not within listening distance? It's because they know what you're too blind to see. Draco Malfoy is a-"

"I don't WANT to talk about this anymore!" Harry finally snapped, "I'm leaving." Harry slid out from underneath Snape and picking up his bag, walked towards the door, silently fuming. Suddenly, Snape blurred in front of him, and grabbed his arm, dragging him back towards the desk. "Hey! Stop it! No- Ow!" Harry yelped.

Deftly countering the struggles of the small boy, Snape sat him down again. "So you don't want to talk about Draco anymore?" he asked, "Well then, how about we talk about what you're doing at nighttime. Are you wandering the halls?" His grip on Harry's arm tightened. "Are you at Draco's? Or do you-"

"No!" Harry yelled, "No! I- Ow! I have bad dreams! So…so I have trouble going to sleep sometimes."

Snape let go of Harry's arm, staring at him curiously. "You're going to laugh, aren't you?" Harry asked in small voice, clutching his arm.

"No," Snape muttered, his face twisting as he said so, "I'm not. It's just surprising to me that your tiredness derives from nightmares. I suppose that sometimes we forget that you're only eleven." he said musingly, then abruptly changing the subject, he said, "Starting tomorrow, you will come and receive a dreamless sleeping potion from me to aid in your sleep. You will only take it once a week and will not become dependent on it, understand? I expect you to stop using it by the end of the year."

"S- Sure." Harry said, his face suddenly lighting up, "Thanks!" Any doubts he had about being scorned vanished as Snape unwittingly gave him a solution to his vaguely disturbing dreams.

Snape snorted and leaned forward, once again exposing Harry's marked neck. Harry stiffened, but Snape didn't say anything. Instead, he braced Harry gently against his arms. "I'm going to bite you now." he whispered.

Harry nodded and mentally braced himself, biting his lip as Snape broke skin. He clenched his fists, tugging at Snape's robes to distract himself from the pain. It would never remind him of Draco, but Snape's draining was slowly getting better, more focused and careful- less wild. There was no ripping pain threatening to rip him apart, but neither was there the rippling burst of pleasure that Harry felt with Draco.

Instead, there was a dull throb of something strange, like Harry's body intuitively knew that this person wasn't supposed to be here doing this. Like his body knew that Draco was supposed to be here in the place of Snape and couldn't decide whether to accept this intruding stranger or not.

"Oh!" Suddenly Harry's body convulsed and he retched, barely noticing Snape coolly stepping back and conjuring a basin for him before he dirtied the floor.

Harry finally stopped retching a half an hour later. He lay, spent, on Snape's desk, a position he had ended up in more than once. "Drink this." Snape commanded, once sure that Harry wasn't going to throw anything else up, "It's the strength restorative potion you made in class today. Drink it."

Slowly, Harry tipped his head forward and drank the potion. His face twisted in disgust- the potion was disgusting. It tasted like a cross of bat's milk and moldy cheese. "Yuck." Harry said meekly, his voice growing stronger as the potion went to work, kneading sore and tired muscles and fixing and gently straightening hoarse voice-boxes and rubbery bones. "That was the most disgusting thing I've tasted.

"That's because the color was off." Snape said silkily, "Now get up. You'll be late for your next class."

"Class?"

"Yes, you've already missed lunch. You'll be late for Defense next." Snape pointed out.

"Oh…" Harry jumped to the floor, heading for the door. Stopping just inside it, Harry scuffed his foot against the stone and looked up at Snape, "Snape?" The potions master looked up from his desk where he had sat down. "Draco…he said you weren't to spend any time with me outside drinking blood. Any particular reason for that?"

Snape's eyes darkened. "Out!" he hissed.

And Harry left.

Harry ran down the hallway, pulling the slipping bag back over his shoulder. After his disastrous time in potions in the other day, which had resulted in him being late to Draco's class, the irate blonde (who had probably caught sight of the vividly red marks on Harry's neck) had said that if Harry couldn't be on time for his class, then ten points would be taken off Slytherin every time he was late for any class.

And here he was, a day later, already late. He was at least fifteen minutes late for McGonagall's class and she was going to kill him, never mind the loss of points. It was only two days from his first Quidditch match on December 1st, and Flint had decided that Harry needed more practice, so he alone had been kept after for more bludger practice during lunch. Harry sighed and sped up- stupid Flint -he really didn't need a detention on top of everything else he had to do this weekend.

Suddenly, his foot squelched.

Harry frowned. Foots don't squelch. He looked down, eyes widening as he comprehended what he was seeing. He lifted his foot out of what looked like a half-eaten eyeball, and slowly, calmly stepped back.

Then he screamed.

He was still screaming when McGonagall swooped onto the scene and turned Harry away with a horrified gasp. He kept on screaming as Snape lifted him, hitting and kicking, into his arms. He was aware of screaming Draco's name over and over again, but he didn't care. He couldn't even be bothered to notice Snape's uncharacteristically soft face, shushing him over and over again, trying to calm his hysterical shrieks. Not even when Snape finally forced calming potions down his throat could he stop.

He was bound and revolted by what he had seen. The…the- it had had to have been a person at one time, but it had been grossly deformed, its head torn open, all brain and matter spilling out onto the stone halls, and it stomach spewed across the walls, a sickening dirty red. Shuddering wildly, Harry opened his mouth to scream once again, when Draco finally tore into the empty Potions classroom.

"DRACO!" Harry cried, reaching for the gray-eyed vampire as he bundled Harry into his arms, "It was…it was horrible. It- bits and pieces were everywhere and…I stepped in it. Oh Draco," he moaned, "I…I-"

"Shh, Harry, shh. Calm down, Harry; it's okay- I'm here now." Draco whispered into Harry's sweat-drenched locks. "No one's going to hurt you alright. I'm here." Slowly, Harry began to calm down, his sobs and pants receding into wracking shudders and soft sniffles.

Suddenly a loud thump startled both of them. "Here." Snape said nastily, setting what looked like a large lump down on the table. "This is for Potter." He looked between the two. "I can tell that you have no need for me, Professor Malfoy, so I'll be right outside."

Draco followed Snape's form, scrutinizing him with an odd look on his face. Then he turned back to Harry, comfortingly rubbing his back. "Oh Harry," he sighed, "You're always in the wrong place at the wrong time, huh?"

Harry nodded tearfully, hugging Draco close. "I'm sor- sorry." he whispered, his lower lip beginning to tremble again.

"Okay, okay," Draco soothed, "It's alright, you're alright. Everyone's fine."

"No!" Harry suddenly interrupted, "Everyone's not. That- that person…" Harry faltered, unable to finish the sentence, and starting sniffling again.

"Don't you worry about him…er, her." Draco frowned, and then decided to avoid the half eaten person lying in the Transfiguration hallway completely. "C'mere Harry." Draco hugged him once more and sat the boy down on Snape's desk. "Have some chocolate."

Harry watched cautiously as Draco unwrapped the lump Snape had brought in, muttering to himself, "I can't believe Snape brought you down here instead of to the hospital wing like he should have. You're in shock and Snape tries to comfort you in a dungeon. Idiot man." Draco looked at the lump of now revealed chocolate and started breaking it into smaller pieces.

"I'm not in shock!" Harry said vehemently, "I'm just-"

"Of course not Harry. Here, eat this." Draco took one of the smaller pieces of chocolate and fed it to him slowly, until he was obediently chewing the chocolate square.

Harry stopped shivering as heat began to spread through his body, warming him from the inside out. He had always thought that there was something peculiar about wizardering chocolate. It was much too potent to be normal. The only thing it didn't…couldn't warm was that frozen place inside him that had iced up the second he had caught sight of that mutilated corpse.

"Come on, Harry, have some more." Worriedly, Draco pressed more chocolate into his hands, encouraging him to eat it all and patting him on the back when he finally managed to choke it past the growing lump in his throat. "Good, Harry, that's-"

With a creaking sound, the door to the Potion's classroom opened and Dumbledore stood in the hallway, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried, jumping off the desk and leaping into the headmaster's arms, "You'll…you'll catch who ever did it, right? It was so-"

"Harry," Dumbledore murmured gently, "Harry, you need to calm down."

"O- Okay." Harry sniffed again, and slid down from the headmaster's arms, still clutching his robes like a small child.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, drawing Harry's attention away from the swirling pattern of Dumbledore's robes which were grossly reminding him of the dead man's splayed out intestines. "Harry, I'm sorry but we need-"

"Oh hell no!" Draco interrupted, seething, "You're not interrogating him tonight, that's for sure. He needs to stay calm, not have another fit!"

"Draco-"

"NO!" he shouted, causing Harry to gasp in fright.

"Draco," Dumbledore pressed gently, "Perhaps we should continue this outside."

Draco eyed Harry. "Right." he said shortly, "Well come on…Harry," he said more gently, "I'll be right back."

Harry nodded and wiping his eyes, he turned around to stare at the potions room. It was familiar. Actually, it was comfortingly familiar. Harry shivered, wrapping his arms around himself and suddenly, he was glad that the potion room had no windows and only one door (not including the one to the store room) that Draco himself was guarding. He'd be safe in here; no madman could attack him and eat him alive in-

Suddenly Harry noticed the chocolate. Moving towards it as if he was transfixed, he grabbed some of the chocolate and stuffed it down his robes just as the door slammed and Draco stormed into the room, picking Harry up and placing him in his lap as Dumbledore and McGonagall entered the room and sat opposite Harry and Draco.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "I need to ask you some questions."

"Uh huh."

"Did you see anyone Harry? Anyone at all."

Harry squirmed back into Draco as if to hide from the questions. "No," he whispered, "no one at all."

"Are you sure? You didn't see anything suspicious?" Professor McGonagall interrupted, sighing at Harry's headshake.

"That's okay Harry." Dumbledore soothed, "Is there anything else you want to tell me?" His kind blue eyes twinkled and Harry shook slightly, lowering his head.

"Alright then, Harry. I suggest that you go back to your rooms and have a good rest. You look like you need it." Dumbledore looked over at Draco. "I'll leave you to deal with him." he said softly to Draco.

Harry watched Dumbledore and McGonagall leave, whispering quietly to each other. Leaning forward, Harry only caught the end of Dumbledore's final worried statement as Draco swept him off towards the Slytherin dorms. "…It seems like it's started again."

Harry shivered in Draco's arms.

Tom?

Ah Harry, it's been a while.

Well I got the chocolate.

Oh…Harry, is there something wrong?

No. Well…Yes. But- but I don't want to talk about it. Not right now…

Alright then. Let me tell you what to do now that you've got the chocolate. You can start with the cat blood and water. First…

Slowly, Harry picked up his quill, forced his shaking hands to still and began writing, steadily ignoring the horrible image forever imprinted in his mind.

Harry felt a flutter of excitement, drowning his tiredness as he walked out onto the field with his team. The teachers weren't sure if this was wise- having the match so soon, especially with Harry's absolute refusal to discuss the "incident", but Harry was insistent that they have the match and Draco had backed him completely, feeling that the sooner Harry got back to normal, the sooner he could recover. And so, nothing was going to stop this match. Not the worried looks of his friends, not the nearly constant nightmares…nothing.

Harry stood in line with his team, watching the two captains shake hands. Then he quickly flung his leg over his broom and took off on Hooch's signal, avoiding his teammates in the upwards scramble. Harry swiftly rose, the crowds cheers oddly muted now that he was in the air.

Squinting, Harry saw Ron and Hermione sitting with Theodore, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle and- Harry's breath caught –the Weasleys and Draco were all sitting primly in the Slytherin stands, waving furiously. Harry grinned and did a few loop-de-loops to calm himself down.

Then the game began in earnest.

"And Slytherin gets the Quaffle- nice tail sweep there by Flint –and heads off towards the goal; he ducks under Weasley, around Spinnet…" Harry tuned out the rest of Lee's (Fred and George's best friend) commentary, scanning the sky. Flint had told him to catch the snitch before the other team had the chance to build up their points, but the snitch had to appear for that to happen.

Harry eyed Flint. He was still heading for the goal, along with the other two chasers, but half the Gryffindor team was streaking down the pitch to stop him and – THERE!

"…Was that the snitch?"

Harry sped towards the far side of the snitch where he could see a faint glimmer of light. He ducked around a bludger and swerved around one of the Slytherin beaters, following the elusive snitch, the other seeker right on his tail. Harry reached forward, scooting forward on his broom to grab the snitch when- a whistle blew, ending the match.

Harry stopped short, almost pitching off his broom. He hadn't caught the snitch yet, and neither had the Gryffindor seeker. Was there some obsolete rule that he had forgotten? Looking down, Harry noticed Professor McGonagall gesturing for him to come down. Next to her, Madame Hooch stood, looking worried.

Frowning, Harry and the rest of the team drifted downwards to land next to the teachers, Flint already fuming, "What are you doing? You can't just stop a match right before our seeker is about to catch the snitch! Where's Professor Snape? He'll-"

"Severus," McGonagall interrupted, looking relieved as the potions master stepped onto the field, "Well? Is he…"

"Dead." Snape said heavily, his eyes on Harry. "Potter, did you not notice Zabini's absence at breakfast or in your dorms today?"

Blaise… "I…I did Professor, but I guess…I had other things on my mind." Harry said meekly, suddenly feeling ashamed for his utter lack of disregard for his dorm mate.

"Indeed." Snape said coolly, making Harry feel all of two inches tall.

"Now Severus," McGonagall chided, "That's enough. No one though of it…" Professor McGonagall sighed. "Quidditch," she announced, her voice magically enhanced, "is cancelled for the next two months. Everyone should return to their dorms and wait for instructions from their head of house."

Harry's eyes widened, looking at all the grumbling children walking out of the pitch. "Go on Harry." McGonagall said gently, "Your team's leaving without you."

Harry looked down and saw Snape leaving, flanked by the Slytherin team. Harry ran to catch up with him. "Professor Snape," he panted, "Professor Snape, what happened to Blaise?"

Snape looked at him and then gently pushed him ahead. "Go, go talk to Draco, Harry." he said, looking away, "He'll explain to you."

"You're my head my house. It's your job to tell me what's going on." Harry snapped.

"Talk to Draco, Harry. I don't have time for your…hysterics."

Harry gritted his teeth. "He's not dead!" he hissed, running off to find Draco, the one person who would, at least, tell him truth.

To Be Continued…