Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Harry Potter

A/N: Sorry I've taken so long with this one. I have just been really busy this week and everything. I'm also going back to school next week so my updates will probably be about once a week. I've made this chapter longer though to help make up for it though! I also have more of an idea where this is going so yay! I also have only editted this chappy once, coz I really can't be bothered to do it again so I apologize for any mistakes now. Much more of Draco this chappy, hope you're happy, please review and tell me if you have comments on this chapter and stuff! More reviews, quicker I update too!

Warnings: See first chapter, SLASH. Also light limes will probably become not so 'light'. hee.

Uncanny Stalker

Ten minutes later and Harry was still standing in the exact same spot Draco had left him. He was in a bit of a shock. Not only had he come face to face with a…vampire of all things; if that wasn't unbelievable enough, he had then had some sort of flirty conversation with him! And then, wonders of wonders, said vampire begins to…molest him…and he does absolutely nothing to stop it! What the holy fuck was going on?! He even…maybe…had liked the…molesting part. Just a teeny tiny bit… Again, what the fuck was happening!

Harry finally managed to bring himself out of his thoughts. He cast a glance at the fireplace; the flames were still flickering. He could hear the occasional crackle of embers. Harry blinked. Shouldn't it be raining too hard to hear that? He steadily walked to the window and rested his face against the cold glass. There was a light drizzle hitting the window, but the storm had otherwise blown over. He turned back around to face the door. As warm as this room was, he had no desire to spend too much time here; Draco may come back.

Harry didn't entirely know his thoughts about the vampire. Perversely, the fact that Draco hunted people down and drank them dry didn't really bother him. Harry took a moment to think this last thought through. He was quite sure that it was supposed to bother him. Maybe it was because he felt secure in the fact that Draco didn't want to kill him. Harry mulled over that answer. No, that wasn't it. He frowned slightly, just, when he had looked Draco in the eye, even if he had been blushing (Harry winced at the thought), he had noticed something different in his gaze. It was the look of an exceptionally dangerous creature. And Harry seemed to accept that. He probably hadn't asked to have to drink blood to survive anyway, which was why vampires fed after all (Though apart from that, Harry had no idea what being a vampire might entail. It didn't matter at the moment). What Harry had been uncomfortable with was the unnecessary pawing. No matter what it may have felt like, tasting his blood and being all…close…was NOT under the things that Harry appreciated.

Harry sighed wearily, he didn't want to try to understand his thoughts at the moment; he was too tired. He supposed he should try to find his way back up to the tower, to a hopefully dry bed. He wasn't holding much optimism on that front though; it had been bucketing it down directly onto his bed after all. Harry scowled to himself while cursing the weather, and left the room to try to navigate his way back to the tower.

Surprisingly it only took him ten minutes, though by this time he was already half asleep. He did not even take any notice of the copious amounts of water on the floor as he made his way to the bed. He tore off the blanket and collapsed onto the mattress, eyes falling within seconds.

Frail light peeked over the horizon and began to inch through the open window. A soft breeze accompanied it, still cool from the storm of the previous night. It twined its way around the room until it found a few loose strands of blonde hair to muss, midway up the wall and near the bed.

Indeed, Draco was sitting, suspended upon the wall, as to have the best view of the bed's occupant, who was still tucked away in dreams. Draco himself had not dreamt for centuries, those were reserved for mortals it seemed-for humans. He vaguely wondered whether he missed it; it had been so long ago since he had dreams grace his slumber that he had almost completely forgotten the sensation. Though he did recall that he had hardly ever remembered them anyway, except the nightmares, that is. Yes, he could recollect those quite clearly, even though that was before he had gained his perfect memory. Oh, it may take a few moments to remember something, but it was all there, all three hundred and forty eight years of existence from when he was Turned.

He sighed almost silently to himself. He had not had such disheartening thoughts for a while now; he tried his hardest to suppress them. It was best for his health; the thought of the rest of eternity alone had the annoying tendency to drive one to suicide. In fact amongst the 'immortals' it was the highest cause of death. That in itself was rather depressing. If nothing else Draco had always been a survivor, the fact that he still remained in existence at all was testament to that, so such trains of thought were normally buried down as deep as possible.

And the creature on the bed was stirring them all up again.

Draco cocked his head to the side, as an animal might, when attempting to work out something particularly difficult. His slate eyes were fixed on the slow rise and fall of Harry's chest. Draco appeared fascinated with the gentle movement.

And indeed he was. Draco only had to inhale when he wished to speak, but the fragile being in front of him, close enough to touch, depended on breathing to continue to live at all. Draco had long ago lost such a dependency and since then had never paid much attention to it other than, when it stopped, his meal was dead. Now he found himself ensnared by the motion.

A light frown began to form on the blonde. Why did he find everything that this little mortal did so enrapturing? Why was he so interested? He had never shown himself in such a way in all his long life. The boy knew his name, had spoken with him, knew what he was for fucks sake, and on top of that, was perfectly alive!

Draco's half lidded eyes followed the move as Harry shifted slightly in his sleep. He had to admit to himself at least that he found his little minuo exceedingly …adorable…at times. He had the most amusing reactions to things. He was also different in a way he had never quite encountered in a human before. From his observing of the brunette, (which he done near constantly since Harry had arrived) he thought that the boy seemed…alone. Not physically, of course there was no one else, but emotionally alone. There was just this look in his eyes that reminded Draco hauntingly of himself, back when he had been a lost little child. Draco sighed to himself again. What was he thinking? He had to stop this sickeningly emotional reminiscing and get back to the focus of staring at Harry while he slept!

…Wait, that came out wrong…or did it…? Draco mulled this over for a moment before disregarding it as unimportant.

The beautiful and at times thoroughly endearing creature that lay on the bed had tasted good last night. Far too good for Draco's peace of mind; it should not have been possible for anyone to taste that exquisite. Draco was also slightly disturbed by the lack of self-control from the night previous. He had very nearly almost plunged his fangs right into Harry's neck. Which, needless to say, probably wouldn't have been good for his health. Draco didn't fully comprehend why yet, but he knew that he most certainly did not want to kill him. He was very interested in making him stay. With the chance of good company and frankly, blood to die for (Draco internally smirked at that), why would Draco pass that up? He had already dubbed Harry his little minuo after all. There was no question that Harry was his, as far as Draco was concerned, as soon as he had set eyes on Harry, the boy had been his to claim as his own. Vampires could be very funny when it came to things they thought of as their property.

Of course the boy in question did not know any of this. He was still sleeping away on the slightly damp bed. Draco continued to stare at Harry's form, not thinking much of anything, just soaking up the view. He had decided he liked it very much, Harry looked so peaceful asleep, though he still believed he looked better when angered; it gave him an idea of what the other man would look like in the throws of passion.

Draco let his tongue slip over his lips at the thought, and continued his unwavering vigil of the figure on the bed.

Harry woke slowly, his mind gently lifting to awareness. He kept his eyes closed, however, enjoying the early morning sunlight bathing his body in a warming glow. The bed was still a little damp from the night before; much to Harry's disgust, but at the moment he was completely comfortable with staying where he was and preferably not moving for several more hours yet. He did not have to look to tell that it was still unnecessarily early. Harry was perfectly content to slip back to sleep.

A light scratching and a flutter of feathers, however, prevented Harry from doing so. He wrinkled his brow in irritation and hoped the noise would cease. Typically, it did not; in fact, it rather seemed to be getting louder, and therefore far more irritating. The addition of a small cooing sound finally made Harry snap his eyes wide open and look to for source of the sound. He glanced towards the window and immediately saw a wood pigeon perched on the sill, looking at him with an inquisitive gaze.

Unpleasantly reminded of the demon peacock from hell that he had seen the other day, Harry scowled at the innocent bird and growled under his breath. He was still to lethargic to actually get up and shoo the thing however, so he settled himself back on the covers.

He gave a sigh and took a quick glance about the room, annoyed that his rest had been disturbed.

He rapidly caught sight of a dark shadow, perching mid-way on the wall and promptly let out a high pitched shriek and rolled of the bed, taking the moist blanket with him.

Draco just looked horrendously amused.

Harry didn't like suddenly being in such a vulnerable position on the floor and peeked his head over the edge of the bed to catch another look at his visitor. He quickly affirmed that it was indeed the blonde vampire he had thought it was… Fuck.

The wood pigeon made another coo noise, momentarily directing Harry's attention to the window. As soon as he had done so Harry realised that, yes, it was light outside. He glanced back to Draco, who did not seem the least perturbed by the sunlight filtering through the window. What the fuck?

Draco, noticing his confusion, tried his best not to laugh, settled for the most depreciating smirk he had instead and waited for the other man to finally say something. No doubt it would be incredibly entertaining.

"Why…why can you still be here? Shouldn't vampires be at least a bit afraid of the sun?" Harry questioned shakily. He had really hoped that he would at least be free during the daylight hours. It appeared not.

Draco smiled indulgently at the confused picture Harry made. "You can't believe all you hear, the things those mortals come up with, some of them are just plain absurd." Draco sighed and drawled out the rest, "To answer your question, vampires dislike light as much as any nocturnal creature does; we work better in the darkness and so remain there…most of the time. I can deal with the day perfectly fine thank you."

Looking at the unbearably smug man in front of him, Harry could only summon one thought to mind, which happened to be how much he hated his life right about now. He didn't dwell on this for too long however and moved onto more pressing matters.

"Would you like to tell me then why you are in my room then?" Harry asked with a fair amount of trepidation, he could only hope it wasn't something murderous. Or perverted.

"Why, I was only enjoying the most beautiful view you create while sleeping lovely," answered Draco with a rather lecherous look on his face.

Harry was sure that at the moment he would prefer the vampire to be planning his demise. He felt rather exposed at that point, like he wasn't wearing any clothing. He quickly checked. Yep, still wearing the clothes from last night.

"And besides, this is my house, so this is technically my room."

Harry was now entertaining thoughts of how he himself could kill the man in front of him. It was sounding better by the second. Any fear he would have had of Draco was quickly replaced by annoyance or irritation. A small part of him perhaps even enjoyed the company, not that he would ever admit to that.

Harry mustered the fiercest glare he could and quite plainly told Draco with his eyes to piss off. Draco merely grinned in response and seemingly melted into the shadows of the corner.

Harry sighed in relief, glad that the blonde was gone. For now at least. Draco had the most infuriating habit of making him feel not only inferior but also incredibly stupid at the same time. And he had only met him twice!

Harry grumbled to himself as he realised that the floor was splattered periodically with freezing puddles of water from the storm last night, and that he had the misfortune to land in one when he fell off the bed. He gave another despondent sigh.

Harry had the unshakable feeling that today was going to be a very trying day.

His theory was proved mere minutes later. Considering that he had hardly eaten anything whilst he had been staying at the house, it was incredibly surprising to find that he had run out of food so quickly. The Ginny-made sandwiches were gone, and so were the random assortments of fruit that he had snuck in with him. The revelation truly stopped him in his tracks, after everything that had happened over the past three days; not having anything to eat was something he had not expected to happen.

As a result Harry just stared blankly for a few minutes before deciding to do something about his current dilemma. He gave a groan of exasperation. He would have to go back into town, find a shop, and buy himself some sustenance. And then make his way back. This little trip that he was required to make, would cause a whole heap of trouble, he was sure. He just knew from the shiver that made its way up his spine.

He gave the contents of his bag another appraisal. Slightly battered recording equipment lay scattered about at the bottom. For the first time Harry remembered what he was actually there for; yet he had no desire whatsoever to do what he was ordered. Harry gave a rub to his temple, trying to soothe the stabbing pain that had accompanied his thinking session. He quickly resolved to think about his veritable mountain of problems later. Food first.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Harry had just made it down to the entrance hall before trouble no.1 made an appearance. He paused in his strides on the dusty marble floor to glance above his head, only to find Draco reclining idly on some railings of a raised balcony Harry had previously not noticed before. He presumed it was because the platform was directly above the front doors. The sight of his uncanny stalker did not help to improve Harry's mood.

"Why do you care? I can leave whenever I want." Harry said with more confidence than he actually felt. He didn't doubt that Draco could easily stop him if he wished to.

Draco simply began to inspect his nails unconcernedly, not dignifying Harry with a response to such a dull suggestion. Harry rapidly broke under the silence.

"I'm going out in search of food if you must know. I, unlike you, don't expect it to just come to me," he said irritably. Draco wasn't unnerving, as much as irritating him.

"Oh, I have to go out to feed sometimes little charmant. In fact, in the past I would often roam the towns" Draco tilted his head as to survey Harry all the better. "I just haven't done so lately. Maybe I should…" he trailed off to himself.

"Well, whatever. I'm going out. If you're so desperate without me then you'll be happy to know I'll be back before bed time" Harry growled out derisively.

Draco merely continued his scrutiny of Harry for a few more moments before smoothly dropping to the floor, without making a single sound apart from the slight rush of wind his descent caused. Now that the vampire was at the same level, Harry was a bit more uncomfortable with his presence and started slightly as Draco slid over the marble towards him.

"Well, lead on." Draco said magnanimously, his smirk revealing the tips of his teeth. Harry felt his heart rate rise as he spluttered, "What?! Are you in some way implying that you're coming with me?!"

Draco repeated the same indulgent smile from the night before; the one that made Harry feel he was about five and made his blood boil with indignation,

"Why yes Harry. How clever you are to realise."

Harry scowled; he did not appreciate the belittling, "No way in hell are you coming! Why would a fucking vampire want to come out during the day anyway? You, around other people? Fuck no! How damn weird would that be? Besides, I don't want, nor need you to come…. So there!"

Harry was well aware that his little rant not only made him sound like a small child throwing a temper tantrum, but that it was also completely pointless. He didn't know much about Draco, but he was sure that he nearly always got his way.

"Really? And I suppose you know how to get back to town, and you know where you are going?" At Harry's mute silence he continued, his voice lowering to that enchanting, compelling timbre. "I want to know everything about my little minuo Harry, and I always get what I want." At some point, Draco had closed the distance and was now about half an inch from Harry's nose. Harry swallowed convulsively and managed a small nod in acquiescence.

Draco gave his predatory grin and bowed Harry out the door as he passed. Their little 'trip' would be extremely amusing for him.

"You're absolutely incorrigible, you know that?"

Draco stopped walking at the statement and when Harry looked back at him, he saw a slightly distressed expression. Puzzled by the emotion that Harry had not yet seen on the others man face before he paused as well.

"Why does everyone always say that about me?" Draco asked to himself in a small voice. It wasn't hard for Harry to hear the amusement in the comment, however and he quickly turned back around with a snort of disgust, determined to keep on walking.

They were at the moment walking back to the house, or as Draco had called it, Malfoy Manor. Harry preferred 'house'. He was also walking as quickly as he possibly could, desperately hoping he could lose the other in the multitude of corridors in the converted castle, but sincerely doubting it. Draco did live there after all. For nearly 350 years at that. Yes, Harry knew how old Draco was. It was one of his first questions to the man. And Harry's desperation at getting away from the blonde wasn't that he detested the company, merely that he really needed to get his thoughts in some form of order.

Their little excursion into town that had begun several hours ago had been possibly the strangest in the whole of Harry's life. Between the odd bantering conversations of small talk that he and Draco had engaged in, and the mere novelty of the sight of the dangerous vampire not only being in the daylight (Harry personally believed that Draco looked far better at night, not that he was thinking about such things of course) but surrounded by perfectly normal, vulnerable people, the whole experience had been incredibly unnerving.

The worst being that Harry was beginning to come to the horrifying conclusion that perhaps he…enjoyed…Draco's company, as slippery the velvet creature was. Harry gave a sigh; his head was hurting again. He sent a sidelong glance to the vampire to the right of him.

His stride was graceful as he kept pace with Harry easily. The wind had stirred again, sending the leaves that lay at the sides of the road into the air, twisting in patterns and giving the day an ethereal feel. It lifted the silver strands of Draco's hair and caused odd tingles to run across Harry's scar. He ignored the sensation, however, and continued his observation of Draco. He was undeniably beautiful; elegant and with refined features, not to mention his stormy grey eyes that seared through Harry's mind whenever he looked at him. Harry blushed slightly at his thoughts and determinably turned his head away.

He didn't see Draco's fond smile as he made his way down the path by the yew hedges.

Luckily, when they returned Draco quickly melted out of sight. Quite literally too. A little confused as to where the vampire had gone so suddenly, Harry nevertheless shrugged it off and made his way to the tower. He was glad to see the puddles from that morning had departed. He fell on top of the bed. He gave a small sound of revulsion at the still soggy blanket he was lying on. It appeared that stone dried quicker than fabric. Wonderful.

He threw the blanket to the floor and kicked off his worn shoes. Another sigh and Harry let his eyes fall shut; it had been a long walk to town and back, and Draco's peculiar form of seductive conversation had left him exhausted. It was early in the afternoon; surely it would be all right to take a little nap? Yes, just for a…little… while….

Harry was asleep within moments.

He stumbled onto the path, falling to his knees. The stone slabs under his hands were covered in mud; that wasn't right. The paths, the gardens; they were always clear and tidy. He curled his hands into fists, the dirt trapping under his fingernails, his breath catching in his chest sharply. A scratching came from nearby and he darted his head up, searching for the source. A monstrous pale bird with violent red eyes skittered down the path and rushed by him, ripping into him viciously as it passed with its talons, blood spurting onto the ground in a wide spread, tears mingling with the dirt on the path. The white phantom shrieking into the night as it faded into the dark again.

He restrained a sob, biting lips together fiercely, struggling to stand, swaying. Shouts, shrieking cries and footsteps echoed down the lane. He restrained another cry of fear, but he couldn't stop the shaking, or the traitorous beating of his heart. It was pounding away, so loud, so hard. Tears stained his face. They would find him, they would hunt him, they would-

The screams became louder, he had to flee, had to run. Never stop running. They would find him. He stumbled down the path, round the house, past the gate, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He turned the corner, there was growling and a snarl. He gave another cry, this time of terrified pain. More blood sprayed to the ground as he gave a yelp. He had to run! It hurt so much-but he had to flee. He fell back, struggling to run back the way he had come, he had to get away. His feet slipped on the blood, he fell to the side, the footsteps were getting closer, and his heart was giving him away, and he was so scared, more tears reached the stone. He had to-

Harry snapped his eyes open, the scar on his forehead stinging painfully, the image of thick, red blood still scoured across his vision. His breath was erratic as he desperately tried to draw in oxygen.

"Shhh, shh. Hush now."

Came a soothing whisper as silver eyes appeared in front of his vision. The red began to fade as Harry began to calm, Draco still hushing him and gently telling him to breathe. Harry gripped his arms tightly; glad not to be alone. It took him only half an hour before he slipped back to less troubled dreams, Draco still half cradling him, wondering of the dreams his little charmant was experiencing.

A/N: So how was it? Input much appreciated, next chappy will be setting things up for chapter 9, when all hell shall break loose, and the plot really gets going! Hah! Guesses of what the connection of Harry's scar is, and on what the dreams are about!