Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Harry Potter.

A/N: Hi again! Hope you like this chapter, it moves things along a bit, primarily for next chapter! I'm sooo excited, not only do I have a plot (sort of), not only does Draco have backstory, but Harry does too! I was planning on more this chapter, but you should see Sirius, Remus and others coming in later. This story is far from over. Oh, and in response to some questions, I make the stuff about vampires up myself, considering there is so many different views out there, your better off making your own!

A BIG thankyou to all of my reviewers! You're so great!

Warnings: progressively heavier lemons.

Blood Stains

In an Italian museum, between pale beach floors and white walls sat a young woman in her early twenties. She was seated on a stone, flat bench, opposite the revolving doors of the lobby, disguised behind the bustle of people scurrying to and fro. She had thick, bushy hair and was currently holding a compact mobile to her ear, a worried expression adorning her features.

"Why the hell won't he pick up…" she muttered, snapping the phone shut in frustration, and letting a growl slip though her teeth. Continuing to scowl at the device in her hand, she failed to notice when a tall red head came up behind her and was therefore elicited a startled jump when he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Ron! Don't do that!" she exclaimed, placing a hand on her heart as she turned to face the slightly sheepish man behind her.

"Sorry 'Mione, didn't mean to scare you", he paused, examining her appearance; which quickly turned to irritation once again, "Is he still not answering?"

"No," Hermione growled out, "and I'm really starting to get worried. He said he was fine, but he sure as hell didn't sound it!"

She nibbled her lip, "Maybe one of us should go and check on him, we really shouldn't have sent him all alone in the first place, and I feel absolutely awful and what if-"

"'Mione. Calm down," Ron interrupted, "I'm sure he's okay, he can look after himself, he doesn't need you chasing after him all the time, and didn't he say he had lost his phone anyway? Of course he isn't going to pick up, you're worrying way too much."

Hermione didn't look convinced.

"You didn't talk to him Ron, he sounded really strained, and he didn't answer any of my questions properly, and that was over two days ago! Anything might have happened to him!"

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was at this point that another red head appeared, having caught the tail end of the conversation.

"What could have happened to Harry?" Ginny asked anxiously, her large brown eyes wide with question.

Ron gave a sigh of irritated exasperation. Women. He decided to intervene before things got really out of hand.

"Nothing Ginny, I'm sure Harry is absolutely fine, I bet he just got caught up with work is all. He'll call up in a couple of days and be perfectly well, unharmed, mentally stable and alive. He's not gonna drop dead just because you're not there. Jeez."

Ginny just gave a huff in response and settled herself down next to Hermione, intent on calling Harry herself, while Hermione pursed her lips, not believing anything until she had spoken and seen Harry for herself.

At precisely 8:22 in the morning, Draco woke from his slumber, inwardly cursing for falling asleep in such an awkward position and so causing the muscles in his neck to be more sore than usual.

He quickly rolled sideways off the bed, letting his feet land gracefully onto the carpeted floor, allowing his momentum to raise him to standing.

After a moment, Draco was able to discern what was so odd about the morning; the wood pigeons had started their usual cooing, the weak sunlight warming the crisp autumn air, and no Harry to be seen, save for a small tuft of pitch hair peeking above the other side of the bed.

With a raised eyebrow, the vampire smoothly crossed the room, sidestepped the chaise and faced the huddled form of his lovely little charmant, who he was displeased to see had dried tear tracks coating his cheeks.

Remaining silent, Draco appraised the others form and decided that it was probably best to be practical. After his inspection, he quickly turned to one of his dressers and pulled out one of his smaller shirts; Harry was smaller than himself after all.

Turning back to see that Harry had still not moved, he threw the shirt at his head, oddly satisfied when the contact made the other man look up, startled by the sudden invasion of his personal space by flying pieces of clothing.

At Harry's blank look, Draco sighed, " If you hadn't noticed already, darling, the clothing that you are currently wearing has rather a large amount of blood on it." He continued amusedly, " If you don't want me to start sucking on it, you should probably change, I'm afraid I'm finding it rather distracting."

Deciding that he didn't quite like the rather lecherous smirk on the vampires face, Harry swiftly removed his blood stained shirt as quickly as possible, and whipped the new one on, trying his best not to think that it belonged to Draco and smelt incredibly good.

He was also quite sure that he failed miserably as he felt the blush on his cheeks and saw that Draco's grin had become even wider. Bastard.

Harry finally straightened up from his crouch, stretching slightly to get the kinks out of his back. After last night, he was left feeling pleasantly numb, if not a little scared about this morning. It was best for him to think one bit at a time.

He glanced at Draco, wondering which of his questions to ask first. He had quite a lot of them you see, mainly on what the hell was happening to him, what was he going to do now, and so on. Feeling a little cold, he wrapped his arms about himself and lent against a nearby wall, waiting for Draco to start the conversation. He didn't need to wait long.

The vampire sighed, and sent a slight glance over his shoulder and moved so that the faced the window, and the morning sunshine; it illuminated him in a particularly beautiful manner.

"You'll probably be glad to know that you haven't simply woken after two days a fledged vampire. The Turning process can last up to a few weeks, it… varies you see." He turned to face the window, still able to see Harry's reflection in the glass.

"What's going to happen to me?" asked Harry, he was almost scared to hear the answer but was truthful enough with himself to know that it was required.

Draco tilted his head to the side, appraising Harry much like a cat does a mouse.

"Well over the next few days…your new teeth should start to come through, you'll slowly wean off the need to sleep or breath, and of course," said Draco with a rather insidious smile, "you shall begin to develop the urge to feed."

Harry shivered, the tremors racking his frame. He didn't know whether it was from the mention of feeding, however, or from the low, silky voice that the blonde used to describe it.

Draco watched with great satisfaction as his little minuo got himself under control once again; Harry was so easy to play with. Very receptive.

He continued,

"For now, just avoid direct sunlight, it won't hurt but you'll be a little…. sensitive to it for another week or so, especially your eyes."

Harry nodded, perfectly aware that Draco would be able to tell that he was doing so. He didn't think that anything that the vampire did would truly surprise him anymore.

Draco finally turned away from the window, and strode purposefully to a cabinet in the corner, which opened to reveal several various bottles of alcohol and a few wineglasses, one of which Draco promptly removed and filled with a shot of dark cherry liquid. Wineglass dangling from his fingertips, he settled himself in one of the more comfortable armchairs, proficiently ignoring Harry's incredulous expression.

"You are aware that it's barely nine thirty in the morning, aren't you?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "What about it?" and sipped delicately.

Harry merely sighed in defeat and let the tension drop out of his shoulders; he wouldn't even bother to try to understand the other man's reasoning, most likely because he couldn't argue with it either.

He simply decided to stare out the window blankly, his mind crunching through all the information it had had to take in that morning. He idly noticed it was cold outside, despite the sunlight; it could be seen as the slowly melting frost covering the lawns outside.

"It's Monday today, right?" asked Harry, as a sudden thought occurred to him.

Draco looked up from his wineglass, vividly recalling the last time Harry had inquired about the date; he was quite sure that it involved a mobile flying out the window and sailing into the shrubbery.

"Yes, it is," he replied evenly.

"Shit." Harry just knew that Hermione would be throwing a fit, conniptions and all, he hadn't called her back since Friday, especially since he had been cut off the last time. The woman could be so bothersome at times. Well, most of the time actually.

With that thought in mind, he turned to the door, intent on locating his missing phone; he couldn't just leave it out there anyway.

Draco observed him leave through the doorway with hooded eyes; inwardly thinking of how glad he was that Harry had forgotten to ask about the masked shadow from Friday night.

As predicted, it was bitingly cold outside and Harry hugged his arms about the jacket he had hastily stolen from his bag on the way down. From the result of the weather, he found it rather unnerving that there was no billowing cloud of white from his breathe, which would have appeared only three days before.

Shaking off his uneasiness, he concentrated on moving closer to his destination. The grounds, which had been so mysterious at night, were now illuminated with a muted glow, the thawing frost reflecting the light. He passed round a corner and was faced with the gardens.

Which happened to include the raised walkway and the black iron spiked gate.

Feeling inexplicably drawn, he made his way down the path, pausing as he reached the end.

It was hard to believe he was looking at the spot where he had died. He had ceased his being with the living right here. It was difficult to process considering he was still there, capable of observing it.

Of course, the bloodstains made it easier. He supposed that it hadn't rained so far, and Draco had obviously had other things to do other than worry about a little bit of blood.

It was encrusted on the barb he had impaled himself on, flaking slightly from the rough edges. It also remained pooled on the stone slabs underneath his feet, the once thick red having been dried to a rusty brown.

To think that it was his own, and that it had all occurred just two nights ago. He had vaguely begun to wonder whether it had actually happened at all; it just seemed so far fetched.

But as he stood there, staring at the site where he had met his demise, died and then been given the chance to wake again, it was impossible for him to think any differently. He had died, he was dead, yet he still existed, if in a new form; it was an interesting concept. And one that made his brain hurt by trying to think about it.

He sighed, silently mourning the loss of his past life; he had a new one now, not that he really knew what it would include or what had happened to his future. Forward, that's what he had to think

A glint of silver caught the corner of his eye and he turned.

Draco's sword was still embedded in the tree, piercing through a black cloak that fluttered in the wind; the mask perched upon it like a puppet.

A nervous mixture of curiosity, excitement and fear filled him as he took a few hesitant steps closer, halting at a respectable distance. Harry was well aware of how fast that thing could move.

It looked innocent now, it a foreboding kind of way. The red glow had vanished from the eyes, but the contrast of black fabric on pale tree bark gave the scene an ill-omened feel all the same.

He had almost forgotten about what had caused his run in with the gate. Now, he wondered how it could have been driven from his mind so easily; the figure was haunting.

So entranced with watching the figure pinned to the tree, when he saw movement from his peripheral vision he was so startled he nearly fell over.

Instead, he observed as Draco gracefully walked past him, and lifted a hand to wrench the sword from its position.

"What is it?" Harry asked, unable to keep his inquisitiveness withheld any longer.

Draco tensed slightly, carefully wording his answer before he gave it.

"A spirit or perhaps a wraith," he said lowly.

Seeing Harry's blank look, he decided to elaborate. "I have not seen them for a very long time…it is worrying to see one of them once again. Once men, now shadows," he paused, and looked over his shoulder to Harry, " they used to serve my father."

'His…father…?'thought Harry as he watched Draco remove the thin silver sword and carefully pick up the remains. The mask, he noticed, had a slight crack running across it.

A raven's caw rang through the air, greatly different than the usual coo of the wood pigeons.

Harry glanced at the vampire's expression, it was troubled, and he looked deep in thought as he walked back to the house. He was just in range to hear the blonde's last sentence,

"The creatures he would mockingly call Death Eaters."

For some reason unknown to him, the word made Harry shiver, and caused the scar on his forehead to tingle unpleasantly. Looking back to the cloak and mask in Draco's hand he wondered slightly on what the other man was going to do with them. He vindictively hoped it was something destructive.

He was subsequently surprised to find something hurled at his head; only exceptionally quick reflexes let him catch it. He peered down at what was in his hand and blinked when he realised that his was his missing phone.

Lifting his head to stare at the retreating vampire, Harry found himself completely unsurprised.

Draco stared into the hearth, the crackling embers a soothing reminder of days gone by. He was located in his study, the thick embroidered curtains closed, throwing the room into darkness.

His charmant sat curled in one of the chairs opposite, his venture out this morning having taken a heavy toll considering his new found sensitivity to sunlight. He mused that he probably shouldn't have let Harry out so soon, but decided that it was best that he realise for himself how painful long exposure could be in the beginning. He was more likely to listen about future side effects that way.

When Harry had returned form the grounds he had quickly found himself with perhaps the worst blister of a pressure headache he had ever felt. Draco had swiftly found the darkest room possible and locked them inside, a rather malicious smirk on his face while doing so.

Harry was now attempting to keep his eyes as closed as possible; the headache was now gone but his eyes were still stabbing severely with pain. He grumbled to himself about stupid vampirism and dumb blondes who should give proper warnings as he wrapped his arms around his knees and snuggled further into the back of the armchair.

Draco was highly amused when Harry managed to lull himself to sleep with his own murmurings. With a small smile on his face, Draco turned back to stare into the fireplace, another wineglass hanging between his fingers.

He sipped languorously, thoughts running through his head at great speed. Why had a Death Eater shown up, he had thought they had disappeared along with his father all those years ago. For one to suddenly appear after over three hundred years, it was troubling indeed.

Even worse, why did they have to reappear now, of all times, Draco glanced at the slumbering form of his minuo in the corner. Harry needed a lot of attention with his Turning, he had to look after his little fledgling, especially until Harry had learnt enough to take care of himself.

Not that Draco had any intention of letting him go at any point of course, but for now Harry was very fragile and vulnerable, and Draco had never had an encounter with his father that had not ended in blood shed. If his father had even returned that was.

Draco gave a tired sigh, and downed the remains of his wineglass in one go. He would need to visit Severus, both about his father and about Harry.

Draco gave another glimpse to the sleeping figure; he could really do with another feed to take the edge off his nerves.

Harry awoke to the feel of cool lips pressing themselves pleasantly against his neck and down his shoulders. He moaned lightly under the ministrations, keeping his eyes firmly shut, his mind still hazy from sleep.

There was a little nip along his collar and the brunette came back to his senses with a husky yelp. He quickly took in the situation.

Somehow, while still keeping him asleep, Draco had positioned them so that he was straddling Harry's waist, and was presently lavishing a great amount of attention on his jaw line.

He gave a gasp as the vampire ghosted over a particularly sensitive spot and immediately felt a tongue slide across his own.

Indulging in another groan of satisfaction, he twisted a hand in Draco's silver hair and let the other come to a rest on his back, content in feeling the muscles underneath.

Dark mercury eyes were slits as Draco allowed one palm to slowly trail down Harry's front, before sliding further into his charmant's pants, fingering the waistband before delving deeper.

Harry gave a sharp intake of breath as he arched forward, wide, dark green eyes to the ceiling. He began to pant as Draco's cool hand continued and his lips returned to their favoured position on his neck.

"Ah!"

Harry couldn't restrain the cry as he felt a sharp fang graze his delicate skin, drawing a thin line of crimson liquid that the vampire lapped with his tongue, hissing with delight at the sweet, coppery aroma that smacked into his mouth.

It wasn't long before pointed teeth pierced deeply into pale flesh, thick burgundy-red blood surging to the surface, staining mouth, lips and skin.

Harry's panting came harder and faster, as he vainly tried to fight off the black spots in his vision from the immense sensory excess. The awareness of Draco suckling on his neck, and the pleasurable pain that accompanied it were far too much.

He felt an instinctual need to bite. Something… anything! He tightened his fists in response, slamming his jaws together in an attempt to placate the urge. It helped, slightly, but left behind a lingering frustration that made him whimper.

Harry twitched his hips in reflex, to try to relieve some of the pressure-

The movement caused Draco to have to shift slightly, which forced his fangs in deeper. The one beneath him screamed fiercely at the unintentional position before he slumped back and let his head lean to the side, still panting harshly as his vision blanked out entirely.

Draco gently disentangled himself from the creature lying limply below him and gently eased himself from his minuo's neck, tenderly licking the wound clean. He sat back, observing his work with uttermost satisfaction as he let his pink tongue flick over his lips to remove any lasting blood.

Draco couldn't retain the deep, rumbling chuckle that accompanied his vicious smirk.

He would take the greatest of pleasures in debauching his little lovely, completely

A/N: How was it? The plot thickens...Personall, I can't wait until Ginny and Draco meet. It is solely for that purpose that she has an obsession with Harry. It'll end in tears, that much I can tell...sigh...so long until then. Anyway, please tell me what you think about the story and chapter so far, don't be shy! Review!