Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Harry Potter.

A/N: Ok, this chapter is a little later than usual, but well, I've bin having problems with this one. Over teh next weel or so I am really busy, seeing relatives, traveling to Edinburgh, and stuff, so...yeah. Another chappy should be about on Tuesday sometime. Well, Harry and Draco finally meet! Harry might appear to be a bit of a pansy in this one. But he is just being subjected to...draco...for the first time...hehehe...yeah. He WON'T be as bad next chapter. Promise. I hope you like the characterisation of Draco! Please review and tell me what you think.

Warnings: See first chapter, SLASH

Charmant

Harry was wide-awake, quivering under his blanket. He was at the present time sitting on his bed trying to keep himself as dry as possible.

The storm had broken several hours ago and, unfortunately for Harry, the window in his room, not only was particularly large, it also had no glass in it. And it was right over his bed. Suffice to say, it's easy to see where this is going. The rain was spilling through the open window like a waterfall, accompanied by a particularly vicious spray, which was making sure he get equally sodden all over.

Not only was he getting wet, the thunder and lightening seemed to be originating from somewhere directly above his head. They seemed to occur nearly simultaneously; he could see the light flashes striking a only few hundred yards from the house and the thunder was deafening his hearing. Harry gave a small jump and a wince at a particularly loud thunderclap. He had always been a great lover of storms in the past, but this one really passed the limit; he might as well be standing in it. He was freezing cold and there was no chance whatsoever that he would get any sleep that night. He glanced nervously at the door; he was really cold. He had been deliberating the decision of whether he should seek out a warmer room to spend the night for the past half an hour. He knew he wanted to go, he just didn't know whether he should.

At that moment a strong gust of wind blew right through the window, bringing a hail of icy water down on his back, and lowering the room temperature to artic proportions. That was it! He was out of here!

He tore off the sodden blanket and, still shaking lightly, set off down the stairs.

Harry walked cautiously through the hallways, arms unconsciously wrapped about himself. The cool marble flooring, even with the carpets, wasn't doing much to warm him up any. Harry gave a start as another lightening flash lit the sky. Walking around in the dark was not helping his fraying nerves, or his paranoia. However, at least now Harry felt perfectly justified in his agitated state. He was trying to make his way around with hardly any light to guide him and Harry knew for a fact that there really was a murderer on the loose. A little jumpiness never hurt anyone.

He turned yet another corner. Where the hell were the bedrooms in this place? Harry had given up trying to use the map; it was too dark and even in the day it was about as useful as a nightlight. And those, during the daylight hours, were pretty useless. Harry gave a sigh; this wasn't getting him anywhere. Still, it was better than if he had stayed in the tower, where he would have most probably caught pneumonia and died sometime during the night. Yes, much better to take his chances in the, relatively, warm body of the house.

Harry took a moment to muse how wet the tower room was going to be in the morning. He could almost imagine the puddles that would need to be sloshed out. Hopefully his possessions would remain at least somewhat dry. Before he left, he had put his bag under the bed, hoping it would avoid most of the rainwater. He had also used the blanket to cover the top of the mattress; he had no desire to have to use a damp bed the next day. He shuddered slightly, that would be nauseating in the extreme.

During his musings, Harry had completely lost track of where he was. Not that it mattered really; he couldn't find his way in the day, let alone in the dark. But still, if he couldn't find those damn bedrooms, he may just have to return to the tower. The mere thought spurred him on through the complicated maze of corridors. As he trotted down another set of stairs, something caught his eye. It was a warm, flickering light, seeping out from under a doorframe.

His heart leapt to somewhere in his throat; he could feel it pounding harder than usual. That light had to come from somewhere, most likely a fire of some sort, a candle perhaps. It flickered again; make that a lot of candles. It wouldn't do if a fire had somehow started and then proceeded to set the house ablaze now would it? The fact that the house burning down was the more desirable conclusion did not seem to occur to Harry as he moved forwards towards the door. He gently put his hand on the handle, and pushed lightly. The door swung with no resistance and Harry stepped inside.

And immediately became routed to the spot, the door fluttering shut behind him.

There, lying lazily on a chaise couch with a wineglass draped between lithe fingers, in front of a crackling fire, was a person. The flames lit the man's face artistically, highlighting his refined features and pale blonde hair.

Harry immediately knew where he had seen him before; the boy from the portrait. His first thought, oddly enough, was that he had been right; the boy had grown up to be very striking. His next, was the shock that that boy and the man before him had to be one and the same, yet he should have been dead for at least 300 years! And yet, here he was, looking very real indeed.

Harry finally found his voice. It was smaller than he remembered.

"Are you…Draco?"

Draco tilted his head. So his quarry had finally arrived? He regarded Harry through half-lidded eyes and sipped the contents of his wineglass musingly. The mortal in front of him was quite pretty; 5'7 in height if he wasn't mistaken, below average for a man, but not embarrassingly so, mussed pitch black hair, really rather fine green eyes and a pulse that promised to be delicious. Not bad at all.

"Yes. That is my name." Draco affirmed.

Harry desperately tried not to shiver. Draco's voice was low, came purring past his lips and was veritably dripping with seduction. It was a hard task. Draco continued,

"But, I'd rather like to learn yours…"

Harry regarded the other man warily. He may be …nice looking…but he could not forget who, or perhaps what, this person was. He still couldn't move from the place he was standing, it was as if he had been paralysed. Harry tried to search Draco's face for some sign of what he was thinking. Instead, he ended up noticing a pink tongue come from between equally pink lips to lick at a small smear of red left from the last sip of the wineglass. Harry's followed its motion, nearly hypnotised with the movement. Harry's eyes flickered to Draco's stormy grey ones. It was then that Harry noticed the other was smirking at him. To his eternal horror, he felt a blush start to bloom across his cheeks.

Harry frantically searched for something, anything, else to focus his gaze on. His eyes landed on the wineglass nestling in snow fingers. It was quite exquisite, clear crystal, with simple but elegant design and…. was wine supposed to be that thick?!

Harry turned wide eyes to the figure lying so indolently upon the chaise. He was met with a very amused stare. Harry found his voice again.

"Harry," he breathed out, "that's my name."

Draco's smirk became positively predatory, and Harry was rather reminded of a shark that had spotted fresh meat. The worst however, must have been the rather pointed canines that peeked out of his mouth. Harry swallowed, forcibly reminded of whom the other in their stilted conversation was.

"You…you killed all the people, that boy…" Harry lifted his head slightly, "didn't you?"

The blonde gave a graceful shrug as he fluidly raised himself of the couch and fixed Harry with a sharp stare.

"I get hungry" he said shamelessly, and with that tipped back the remnants of his wineglass.

Harry once again admired the thickness of the liquid and felt nausea rise in his stomach as he recognised what it was. He looked up again just in time to see Draco run his tongue over something white and pearly; which indisputably had to be a fang. Harry stuttered slightly, feet still persistently stuck in position.

"Just what are you?!" questioned Harry meekly. He felt as if he was being suffocated by the other being's presence. It pressed heavily on his chest, making his breathing hitch irregularly.

"Oh come now Harry, you look intelligent, surely you know, …deep down." Draco purred back.

This time Harry couldn't restrain the shiver that passed through him. His voice just washed over him like molten chocolate, rich, dark and full of sin. Harry looked away, his blush deepening at his treacherous thoughts. Why…why was he thinking these things! When Harry looked up again, Draco was much closer than he had been mere seconds before. Harry idly noticed that Draco's elongated teeth, even with his mouth firmly closed, were still poking through his lips. They also seemed far more prominent from only two feet away.

"…You're a… vampire…?" It appeared that Draco's presence was also diminishing his voice as well, not only his ability to breathe properly.

" My, you are a clever little thing aren't you" said Draco patronisingly, making full use of the four inch height difference between them.

The spark of subsequent anger, roused from the belittling tone he was addressed with, managed to somewhat free him from his dazed trance.

"Don't talk to me like that!" Harry spat, " you are the one who's been fucking with my mind, which you had absolutely no right to do, you are the one who is some creepy blood stalker and you are the one who is only a shadow here!"

Draco blinked, looking a little taken aback. Not from what Harry had accused him of, he was just a little staggered that the smaller man was no longer enthralled by his presence, like most mortals. He quickly smirked once again, wider than the last time. He shouldn't have been surprised; from the start he had sensed that Harry was …different. It was what made him so interesting after all. As a result of his thoughts, it took Draco another moment to process what Harry had said. He found it quite amusing that his little prey would dare say such things to him, even though Harry knew what he was.

" 'Creepy blood stalker' hmmm? You really shouldn't talk that way to someone who, by your own admission, could kill you in an instant…" Draco trailed meaningfully.

Harry did not back down. He was the reason for all his mental trauma from the past few days, like hell he would be pushed around any longer!

"You wouldn't though, would you?" Harry said in a low voice, eyes fixed accusingly on Draco's face.

Draco's eyes widened slightly and he looked a little unbalanced, as if this wasn't going the way he had expected.

"Why would you assume that? Everyone else who has ever dared to come to my house has met an untimely demise, what makes you think you are any different from anyone else?" Draco growled lowly in reply, his sudden loss of power in the conversation unnerving him slightly.

"Because I am different, aren't I?" queried Harry, finding lost confidence, " I have been here for well over two days now, and though you've definitely messed with head, you have done nothing in an attempt to actually to kill me! The only reason for that, that I can see is that there must be something about me that has prevented you from doing so!" Harry finished triumphantly.

Harry briefly remembered the room underneath the drawing room, but quickly dismissed it, not wanting his fragile assurance that he was not about to be eaten, shattered.

Draco was seriously unnerved now. The simple mortal had drawn conclusions about him, without knowing him at all, and had come to, sort of anyway, a correct answer. No one had ever, in his long years of life read him quite so easily, or as quickly. Either Draco was losing his touch, or this Harry was very different indeed. Draco preferred to think the latter; it was healthier on his ego.

Needless to say, Draco had had enough of his lack of control, he would not submit to the man in front of him.

"You know what? You're right, Harry." Draco slowly stalked forward. Harry, noticing this, tried to move, but his earlier paralysis was back again it seemed. Fuck!

Draco stopped right in front of him. "I'm afraid to say that I find you quite fascinating," he admitted.

Meanwhile, Harry, though the rest of his body refused to cooperate, had succeeded to avert his eyes to the fireplace, just over Draco's left shoulder. Due to Draco's new proximity, his cheeks were becoming disturbingly warm by now, and he felt it would only get worse if he actually looked at the blonde. Therefore, he was unprepared when he felt a cool finger make contact with his face.

Bottle green eyes snapped up, an odd mix of surprise and horror as the finger travelled down his cheek; surprise that the vampire (which he still wasn't quite getting to grips with yet) was actually touching him and horror that his blush was back. At full force too.

Harry tentatively looked up, eyes locking with stormy grey. Draco was now looking at him with an intensity and emotion in his gaze that was making him highly uncomfortable, and was making the irregular breath hitching come back…. Damn.

Draco gave a satisfied smile at the reaction. Harry looked delicious when confused, Draco decided. He would endeavour to recreate the expression as much as possible in the future. However, Draco had got too close, and the heartbeat that had been tormenting him the past two days was too tempting when he was so near, he couldn't help himself.

Draco lent forward, ignoring the pathetic little squeak from Harry, and started to nuzzle the others neck. It just smelt so good. He started to lick, tracing the vein, trying to find the best spot. The pulse was clouding his senses. Draco nipped lightly at the skin; by this point Harry's eyes had long fluttered closed, his body still refusing to move- though he was long past caring. Just one little taste, it promised to be so good. Draco nipped a bit harder, drawing a small amount of blood into his mouth. As Draco's fangs broke the surface of his skin, Harry couldn't help the breathless moan from escaping, it just felt… so… good….

Harry's little moan, however, broke Draco from his haze. The blood on his tongue, and their compromising position. It all came to him very quickly. Draco blinked and glanced up at Harry; his cheeks were flushed beautifully and his breathing shallow, eyes slightly glazed as he began to lift his lids. Draco blinked again in surprise. Draco had fed from a lot of people over the years and never had one had such a receptive response. Yes, feeding could be quite sexual at times, but never so …easily, and by so little... prompting. Yes, Harry was most definitely very different.

And said person was also beginning to realise what the vampire had just done. Draco had a feeling he did not want to witness the probably violent reaction, but then, his little minuo had tasted so sweet….

Harry finally wrestled himself out of his daze and quickly fixed Draco with a look of dismay, which quickly turned to indignation, "Wha…ba…neh…WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!"

Draco rapidly realised that he rather liked the way Harry looked while angry as well. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a fire Draco hadn't seen for centuries and made the brunette look so alive. Draco had to stop himself from smiling at the thought.

"Just getting a little taste, darling", Draco commented lazily in reply. "And as much fun as this little chat has been, I think I shall retire for the night. Goodnight little charmant!" And with that Draco lent back in towards Harry, and inhaled deeply, before sashaying out the room.

Leaving poor Harry wondering what the hell had just happened.

A/N: Well,how do you like Draco's first appearance? There will be more on his thoughts next chapter, and the plot wil be moving on. To what, even I am not entirely sure. Remember to review! It'll make me happy...

Minuo- Latin, means to let or draw blood, appropriate for what Draco had just done.

Charmant-French, means lovely or charming, I'm going for lovely, just because I don't like beau.

Draco will use odd words like this occasionally. I find it fun! Until next time.