Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way shape or form. I do not claim to own him or anything else that may in fact be the thought of the lovely writer Jo Rowling is, please don't sue me. I do however own all original characters in whole or in part that appear in this story. This story is not HBP compliant, though quite a few things are taken from that book; again I own nothing except for the plot and original characters. Thank you for reading! –Gypsy Jade

Summary: Not fully HBP compliant. Harry starts having strange dreams and they all end the same, with unearthly silver eyes haunting him. Something is going on and for the first time in the last 10 years if not the history of Hogwarts two new teachers grace Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Chapter 19

Bloodlines…

Author's Notes: I dedicate this chapter to emcee31, thank you.

Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue in disapproval at Harry as she found him in the chair next to Yamele when she came to check on her patient though stern, it was obvious in the mediwitch's eyes she was glad to hear her charge laughing.

"Mister Potter, while I am glad to see our young Professor's spirits raised, I must remind you both that you are in the hospital wing, and keeping your voices lowered would be better suited to the surroundings." She had only spared Harry a glance or two as she had immediately begun casting diagnostic spells on Yamele to check her condition.

"I'm sorry Madame Pomfrey…" though he ducked his head slightly, and felt his cheeks begin to burn slightly, Harry could not wipe the smile from his face as he watched Yamele try and stifle her laughter.

"Indeed Mister Potter…now if you could leave my patient and I for a moment, there are matters I must discuss with her." Harry wanted to protest that he would stay and he would have voiced this if he hadn't been interrupted.

"It's alright Harry; you look like you need a bit more sleep anyway." Yamele's voice was firm though still soft to his ears. And though he wanted to argue, he rose noticing that Madame Pomfrey's face had once again taken on its seriousness. He reluctantly rose from his seat and gave her hand one last squeeze before retreating back to the hospital bed he had left hours before.

He lay there staring up at the ceiling of the hospital wing, his vision was blurry as he had taken off his glasses, it didn't matter though; he was lost in thought. His body was tired, and begged his mind for sleep but he wasn't done thinking quite yet. He hadn't given much thought to the prejudice of blood in the wizarding world, mostly because he had only ever heard Slytherin's speak of it. And even then, he had only ever heard the distaste toward muggleborns. It hurt his head to think that there were enough families that believed themselves superior to other magical creatures enough that the Ministry wouldn't allow Yamele to call herself a witch. It also meant, that she had paraded her entire life as a half breed, a Vampire-Veela, and he could only imagine that neither world was truly her own. Something in his heart ached at the thought, and snippets of their conversations came back to him. He wondered then, before giving in to sleep, how bittersweet it must have been to have spent any time with wizards, like his parents, his godfather, and Remus, how could she not have been angry at them, jealous that they had the one thing she seemed to be denied. Why couldn't the Ministry see her as a witch, why couldn't people like Rosemerta…"why then…" He thought, "Can't I help feeling there is so much more to her?" Sleep claimed him then and he could no longer fight it.

Harry didn't awake again until his stomach pained greatly from hunger and as his eyes fluttered open he heard movement around him. He sat up slowly, his body feeling as if made of lead, and reached for his glasses.

"About time you woke up Potter, you've already missed most of your meals…" The voice that startled him out of his thoughts was cool and drawled lazily from its owner's lips.

Draco Malfoy leaned back into the pillows of the bed next to him, looking as if he had been bored for hours. Harry rolled his eyes at the blonde Slytherin and looked around as he retorted.

"If you were so worried about my meals Malfoy, why didn't you try to wake me up yourself?" His tone was not nearly as hostile as it had once been when he found himself dealing with the Slytherin, but they had not yet become anything akin to friends.

"I don't particularly care if you eat or not Potter, but considering my cousin's obvious affection for you, and her state I don't wish her to worry over you on top of everything else on her plate." The Slytherin Prince snorted and stretched his long legs on the hospital bed. There wasn't any real amount of hatred in the boy's voice, which Harry was still getting used to, but there was little warmth to be found there either. Harry's own green eyes met the steely blue gray ones of his reluctant hospital wing companion. What he saw there startled Harry; it was clear in the other boy's gaze that Draco was truly concerned about his cousin. Whether it was that Draco didn't believe he was good enough for Yamele, Harry wasn't entirely sure, but he held the Slytherin's eyes for what seemed to be hours. He saw emotion there, hidden under an ever present sneer, emotion that he had never noticed before, and what truly startled him were the striking similarities between the swirling mercury colored orbs that haunted his being and Draco's eyes. He arched an eyebrow in question as a thought floated in his brain.

"How is it that you two are cousins, if Yamele is supposedly a half breed Vampire Veela?" The question startled Draco, as his face for a moment showed an emotion akin to shock but not quite as obvious. Harry waited as noise from the direction of Madam Pomfrey's office startled them both, no one came out though and they sat in silence for a while. Harry wondered if the other boy would ever answer him, or only ignore him like so many times before.

"My mother and Yamele share a great-great-great-great grandmother in common…" The other boy's voice was quiet and Harry almost missed his statement but tilted his head and nodded in acknowledgement of the words.

"She is more my mother's cousin I suppose, but has always called her Auntie. They get along well…they'd be closer if it wasn't for my father I imagine…" Harry watched as those cold eyes focused on a spot between where Draco lay and the far wall. He didn't press the boy further and instead had resettled on the hospital bed, drawing his legs from under the blanket. They sat there for some time in easy silence.

"In the least you're not trying to hex each other's bits off…" Harry looked up to see Yamele making her way slowly over to his bed, she didn't have far to go, but the extent of her injuries obviously made it much more difficult. Harry stood and helped her walk the rest of the way, wrapping an arm gently around her waist so she would support most of her weight on him.

"Thank you Harry…" She sunk into his pillows, moving over so that Harry could sit next to her. They both fit comfortably and Draco sat up on his bed and came over to check on Yamele, much like a loving friend. Harry watched as Yamele rewarded him with a smile and squeezed his hand gently.

"Why didn't Madame Pomfrey just magically heal your wounds and bruises Yamele?" Harry pushed Yamele's hair off her shoulder gently wrapping an arm loosely around her.

"She tried; the poison from the dagger is interacting with healing magic…" Yamele sounded tired and Harry watched her, taking in the slight color that had returned to her skin, but she was still so pale. The circles under her eyes from a fitful night's sleep, the stark contrast of the cuts and bruises around her lips, down her arms, and though he couldn't see it on her side, he knew where the dagger dug in must still be fresh.

"Damien est un salaud…" Harry raised an eyebrow as Draco slipped into French as he sunk onto the bottom of the hospital bed. Yamele let out a soft chuckle, shifting to lean more into Harry as she watched her cousin.

"Oui, but it's not polite to slip into French Draco." Harry shrugged as she said that and found himself running a hand through her hair gently.

"I don't know what he said, but I have a feeling I'd agree…" Yamele tilted her head to look at him and Harry found himself lost in her amused eyes, there was a serious flicker of worry under the amusement though.

"You should, I said Damien is a bastard…attacking Yamele like a loathsome snake in the grass…" Draco's choice of words caused Harry to smirk amusedly at the Slytherin as he ranted.

"If you're done Draco…" Yamele's voice was a bit stronger than when Harry had left her with Madame Pomfrey, and he gently shifted still holding her near. Draco's rants calmed down as the Slytherin turned his full attention to his cousin.

"Things are about to get very tense over the next few days, and I'm afraid I will have to ask more of either of you than I should be entitled to." Harry felt the hairs at his nape stand in fear of those words, and it was clear Yamele had undivided attention from two of the most important people in her life.

"I have to take leave and see the elders' tomorrow night. I've asked Professor Snape to fill in for my classes, and I must ask you both to keep your eyes and ears open. There have been murmurings among the children of certain Death Eaters and with the Christmas holiday coming up soon, I'm afraid it won't be long before certain loyalties come to light." Harry's grip had tightened on her as she spoke and Yamele took a breath mostly out of need to push him slightly away. He could tell in her eyes that she did not want to, and moved to voice his thoughts.

"But you're injured Yamele…you can't possibly be expected to travel so soon after an attack…especially not…" Harry found his lips stilled by Yamele's hand, and the stern look in her eyes told him that she was not going to be talked out of her decision.

"I must go Harry. It is my duty to help them, and the matter at hand is much more delicate and important than a few injuries that with time will heal. I won't be gone long as there is little time to ensure unity of the vampires against Voldemort." Harry could see her mind was set, the swirling in her eyes was at a steady pace and her chin tilted up.

"He'll kill you if you deny an alliance to his face Yamele…" He had momentarily forgotten that they were in the hospital wing and not alone, as he reached up and cupped her cheek. He had never been so afraid, not even the times before when he thought he might die. Part of him had long ago stopped fearing death, though he wasn't entirely sure when that had happened.

"He's not brave enough to attack the main Vampire compound, no, that would be disastrous for his plans. At least for now, where he still has to hide he can't afford that kind of mistake." Draco's voice startled him for a moment as he looked at the boy watching them; there was something in Draco's look that Harry couldn't quite place.

"It doesn't matter, what matters is that he must not know how close I am to either of you. So when I return Harry, and it hurts me to ask you this, you must, MUST look at me as your Professor. If it is possible to see each other in secret I will let you know, and I must ask you and Draco to resume some of your fights. Enough to cause no one to question Draco's alliance until it is too late." Harry felt his chest tighten at those words and the pained look on her face told him that she must have felt it as well.

"But Damien already knows, couldn't he tell Voldemort?" Draco voiced the same question Harry's mind screamed at that moment.

"He cannot, having been forced out of the council its secrets are not allowed to be uttered by him to anyone else. To do so, would mean forfeiting his life, and Damien is much too much of a coward to willingly do so. On the other hand, Voldemort is going to need Damien alive to ensure any of the other Vampire's collaboration, so he cannot force the information from him." Yamele sighed then and leaned back against Harry, she allowed her eyes to close slightly and they sat in silence for a while.

The House elves popped in and brought them a light dinner, and Madame Pomfrey only checked on them long enough to make sure they all ate and inform them that no one was allowed to visit them. Both Harry and Draco were grateful of this, as they knew Yamele had to leave the next morning.

The evening passed slowly as after casting a silencing charm around them they spoke freely. Though Harry wanted to beg her not to go he knew there was nothing else he could say. He knew things would be different when the morning came, not just because Yamele wouldn't be there, but also because he and Malfoy had to keep up appearances. He knew it wouldn't be too hard and yet, he didn't want to have to spare the extra energy if he could help it. There was so much more at stake now, and though he trusted Yamele he couldn't help the resentment, he once again felt like a pawn in someone else's game. He would of course do as she asked, because he knew there were more important things at stake than his relationship with her.

"I ask far too much of you Harry…I hope one day you will forgive me…" her voice lowered as she spoke, Draco had just fallen asleep in the next bed over and she did not wish to wake him.

"I know there are things I'm better off knowing, and I could sit here and tell you it didn't bother me, but we'd both know I was lying. Sometimes I feel that the amount of trust expected from me, without questioning, without answering my questions, is nearly impossible. And then I look at you, see in your eyes, realize how much you've shown me, and how much it has cost you to do so, the risk and all of it isn't lost on me Yamele. It maddens me, annoys me, makes me angry, but I still feel that I should trust you." He spoke the words without thinking, truly and honestly as they flowed into his mind; it surprised not only himself but the witch in front of him. Yamele's eyes had widened just slightly in shock but soon were filled with tears as he spoke, and realizing he had left her speechless Harry did what felt natural. He leaned in and again tasted his dark forbidden obsession, and she still tasted of the tangy blood wine.