Author's Note: Huzzah - another update! Here's chapter eleven. As always, massive amounts of angst. Oh, dear.

Chapter Eleven

Harry woke up on the couch, knees pressed up against his chest. He couldn't remember much of last night after Ron and Hermione had left. He remembered starting out at his living room, submerging in thoughts. At one point he had thrown up; he could at least remember that. He didn't really remember anything after that, though. The rest was fuzzy. In fact, he could still taste the acid in his mouth, and he walked slowly to the kitchen.

The bottle of red win was open, so he just poured himself a glass and took a giant gulp. The horrid taste was washed out, but he still felt like shite. Fear plagued him. What if Draco didn't come back? What if Draco turned him in?

What if...

There were too many uncertainties, and they all shouted and rattled inside of Harry's head. They were so loud that Harry had to resist the urge to cover his head with a pillow and scream. He just wanted it all to shut up and disappear. But, of course, problems were that easy to solve. His, at least weren't. Actually, that was a good point; when was the last time he had a simple problem?

"Saving the world isn't enough for you?" he shouted to thin air. Sliding down into the corner of his kitchen, he burst out into hysterical laughter. "Is there something else you want me to do? Facing a psychopathic wizard was a joke, right? This vamp thing can't be it. Is there someone at the door, waiting to attack and take me? At this point it would almost be a relief."

His laughter transformed into broken, dry sobs. His hand ripped through his hair, and he trembled. There had always been a solution before. When Dudley tried to hurt him, he was able to outrun him. When Voldemort had hunted him down, he had to find a way to kill him and destroy the Horcruxes. But now his only refuge lay in the hands of a cure than might not even exist. And his only safety blanket, his mate, had abandoned him.

Shuddering, he pulled himself up. He had to get out. Here he was just going to go insane, worrying , swarmed with thoughts. He had no clue which club to go to, but that was the only option at this point. At least it seemed like it.

He wanted to stay away from Ron and Hermione for one night. He'd be fine with strangers and loud techno music. There was plenty of red wine to satisfy him and no room for thinking. Vogue seemed like the obvious option. He had to go somewhere he didn't know very well. A familiar setting might remind him of Draco. His eyes closed and he shook his head. It was the only thing he could think to do to get his mind clear. What else was open at midnight? If he needed to run away, that was the one option that presented itself easily.

When he was choosing which clothes to wear, he couldn't help but imagine that Draco was standing next to him, critiquing is every choice. He could picture the pompous smirk and the way his fingers would lightly brush up against Harry's skin as he compared the shirts.

Of course, other than seeing him recently and in a handful of catalogues, Harry had no clue what Draco's fashion sense was like. Yet as he pulled at his green one, he could imagine the sneering voice speaking out. "That one," Draco would say. "You wore that one last week! Do you just want to throw on the same clothes every time you go out? Your lack of any refinement still manages to astonish me, Potter." Harry chuckled quietly to himself, but it was a sound that died in his throat. It was all still in his head. Still, that imagination provided quite a realistic Draco.

A sleeve stuck out in the back of his closet, and Harry reached back, grabbing hold of a shirt and pulling it out. Its style was the same as the green one – a simple button-up – but this time it happened to be plum. At first that seemed odd, and then the memory came back. Ginny had given it to him. She said that the colour would go nicely on him.

It was right around the time they broke up, and she had said that he could use it to charm the other boys. Still, plum had always seemed like an odd colour, and he had merely hidden it away. He couldn't help but wonder as he held it whether Ginny had noticed that he had never worn it. If she had noticed, had she been offended? She had said it was his colour, and as he held it up to himself and looked down, he could see she had been right.

Considering he owned about four pairs of non-dress pants, he found that choice to be much simpler. As he hovered around his room attempting to figure out whether he should do anything else, his eyes lay on a box in his desk.

Harry hand never been much of a jewellery person, but when he first came out, a few of his lesser friends bought him nice shirts for his birthday. He also received a handful of necklaces, which he almost found amusing. It would have been more amusing if some people didn't actually believe his interests had changed because he had announced that he was gay. But he smiled politely as people suddenly shied away from Quidditch gifts.

Seamus had been one of the people to give him a necklace, although Harry was never really sure whether it was a joke or not. Seamus had put a black choker around Harry's neck and grinned deviously. Harry had felt mortified and had asked Seamus why he would ever buy him a gift like that.

To which the Irish replied, "It gives off the whole badass look, or it would if you didn't wear those glasses. Some guys get turned on by that. A lot of girls, too. Hell, I know I do." Seamus had proceeded to hook his finger under the chocker and yank Harry forward. Harry had, of course, stumbled off with some sort of excuse. It made him uncomfortable at times how Seamus came onto him. It wasn't a secret either. The Irish Gryffindor had clearly expressed his excitement when Harry turned out to be gay.

Harry sighed. "To hell with it." He grabbed the chocker and dropped the glasses. He didn't fucking care at this point. His inner monologue was completely controlled by that infuriating blond. He was going to go absolutely mental. Grabbing some money, he shoved it into his pockets and left as quickly as possible. He was so unfocused that he counted it as a miracle that he didn't splinch.

Vogue was as bustling as always, and hordes of people chanted along to the song, slurring the lyrics. The music blasted loudly enough that he could feel his chest vibrate. And there were so many people that it was hard to concentrate. Impossible to think... Harry let off a slight smile, and he slunk over to the bar. The bartender, someone different than the last time, gave him an odd look when he asked for red wine, but obliged. Harry eagerly gulped it down and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift in the noise.

The fun didn't last long without much to do. After the fourth glass, he was full, and he spun his glasses around, poking a bead of red wine that remained and looking at it distastefully. While the many people could also distract him from Dr – from other matters, they began to irritate him. The constant contact, as people bumped into him, made harry feel on edge.

He was beginning to feel like he might just stnap and attack someone. The music was beginning to be grating, too. With every one, people sang more and more loudly, and his head began to pound. In fact, with a headache, he tried to push the sound away. Silence was replaced by his desperate cries of anger at Draco for abandoning him. As if his life hadn't been miserable enough before he had false hope that Draco could tolerate him.

"You." There was a familiar voice behind him, and Harry turned around to see Ginny standing less than a metre away from him, her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. "Why are you here?" I was told you were supposed to be in Egypt for another while." Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. There was no explanation. Shite. He hadn't even thought of running into someone. What if Ginny told Kingsley? Hell, what was he going to say to Ginny? Oh, sorry, Ginny, I was just talking a brief break from my vacation – fancy seeing you here!

"Speechless? Do you have any idea how many times I've worried about you? Ron and Hermione clearly are worried, too. Do you have a clue how many times I've seen Hermione around recently with puffy, red eyes? She won't admit it, but I know she's concerned about you. You bastard. Do you have any respect for your friends?"

"Ginny..." Harry finally croaked out. His words slung together, and he swallowed the knot in his throat. He hadn't meant to worry anyone. He hadn't even thought about that. How many people now were wondering what happened to him?

"Are you even going to explain yourself? You're sitting at the bar, dressed like a completely different person. Look at you, the choker and – Is that the shirt I gave you?" Her voice was still sharp, although she seemed to lose some of her consistency. She paused and stared at it.

"Er, yeah, it is. I thought I'd try on a new look. You know, see if it was –" Ginny's face rearranged into one of determination and anger again, as she shoved him in the chest. Harry tilted and nearly fell off of his chair.

"I don't care about your little excuses. We're not going to get on any tangents. I want to know straight up why the hell you find it important to lie to everyone you care about. Everyone who cares about you..." He didn't know what to say to her. The only thing he could think of was the truth. Would Ginny freak out? What if she accidentally let it slip or thought he was dangerous? Well, he was dangerous, but that was beside the point. "Harry, if you're fighting something, you don't have to do it alone." Her voice was immediately gentler, and Harry knew he could trust her. Vampire or not, she would help him. She had to. If he didn't have friends, he had nothing and no one.

"Ginny, I'm fighting something bigger than you can possibly imagine." It was accompanied by a humourless laugh, and she sat down next to him. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone..."

"But what about Ron and Hermione?"

"They already know. Hermione wasn't crying because she was worried why I disappeared. She knew that. She's worried how to bring my back."

"Wait, they already know?" Harry nodded, and her expression transformed into that of hurt and betrayal. Harry felt bad, but before he could say anything else, she spoke again. "Just do me one favour – cut out the cryptic. You at least owe me that if you've kept me in the dark this long." Harry couldn't help but agree.

"I'm a vampire, Gin." There was only shock. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head several times as if 'no' would simply solve it. Then:

"Oh, you sick bastard. Why would you come up with a lie like that? You think I'm an idiot? I can't believe you. Fuck you!" She started to storm away. Harry's heart tore into tinier pieces than it had been before. There had to be some way to prove to her that he wasn't lying. His teeth!

"Gin, just look!" Her hair tossed back as she threw him a final dirty look, but then she paused. Harry felt his teeth extend. It was slightly painful without much thirst to accompany it, but it at least convinced Ginny. Her eyes started to water, and she took a step backwards, her shoulders heavy.

"No, you can't be... Not you. Not..." She broke down, holding her head in her hands. Harry wanted to comfort her, but as he got off his stool, she looked up and inched away.

"You didn't trust me to keep this a secret? Did you want to die without even saying goodbye?" Harry felt his stomach drop, and suddenly he felt nauseated. Ginny's expression was so pained. "I gotta go."

"Wait!" he called out after her, but she was gone. "Fuck!" With a swipe at the counter, he broke his glass. The pieces stuck into his hand, and blood began to ooze out, dripping down his arms. The people around him stopped and looked fearfully at him, probably mentally judging him as a crazy drunk. He Harry didn't notice; he was too busy running away.

He felt sick. How many things was it possible to destroy in four hours? Clenching his hands, he ran into the alley before letting go and pulling out his wand. He landed with a crack in front of his apartment. Harry felt as if he was going to explode. He barely held back a scream. Draco hated him, Ginny felt betrayed, and he had lost so much blood already that he was beginning to feel faint. He stormed into his apartment and froze.

The scent of Draco was too strong to be lingering. Harry's eyes screwed shut. He had no strength to deal with this. All he needed was to get yelled at by Draco again. Yet if he wanted any peace with him, it was probably best not to snap. He stood, heaving, when suddenly Draco's voice came from his right.

"Potter?" Slowly he opened his eyes to see Draco standing in the kitchen doorframe. Yet he didn't look angry at all. "I'm sorry. I know that I – I overreacted." Was he apologising? "Well, umm, aren't you going to say anything?"

Harry didn't know. He wanted to run up to Draco and hug him, but even a slight movement frightened him. What if he scared Draco away again? Draco shuffled uncomfortably and then scanned Harry up and down. "Wow, Potter, you actually have taste. That's not half bad." He trailed off as his eyes lay on the choker. Harry couldn't help but notice the pink spreading across Draco's cheeks. Apparently Draco was one of those guys turned on by the whole badass thing. "You look different without your glasses. Your eyes look greener."

"They're contacts. Remember, vampires have red eyes – that whole thing."

"Wil –" Draco got not further. Harry attempted to take a step forward, but suddenly found himself too lightheaded to function. He collapsed on the floor, and Draco's jaw dropped as Harry's hidden arm came into view. The entire sleeve was soaked in blood. Harry's wrist lay cut open, and he groaned.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Draco was hovering above him. He grabbed Harry's hand and his other hand gripped his wand. "Accio blood-replenishing potion!" It flew into his outstretched hand, and he remained kneeled over, removing the glass and sealing the wounds. When he was done, he shoved the potion down Harry's throat "Why would you keep that a secret? Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

He sounded angry, as he propped Harry's head on his lap. Harry felt nothing but warmth and a tingling sensation flow through him, and he knew it had nothing to do with the potion. Draco was practically holding him. A shiver went through him, and he smiled broadly, almost goofily.

"I honestly just forgot about it. You distracted me." He paused before adding, "Can you stroke my hair?"

"Don't push your luck," Draco muttered, yet he began to mess with Harry's hair. "How the hell could you forget something like that? No – wait – don't answer. We might need to go to the couch soon. The floor's a bit uncomfortable." Harry started to get up, but Draco stopped him. "Not quite yet. You lost a lot of blood. I don't think you should get up yet. Soon, though." Harry couldn't complain. He rather liked nuzzling against Draco's lap. True, Draco was sitting rather still, but he continued to stroke his hair. And he wasn't running away screaming – a plus for sure.

"Why did you come back? What changed your mind? I mean, not that I'm complaining."

"Well," Draco began, "I kind of realised that I was a bit rash. I mean, you can live without your mate, but you go insane. So, I've been told. I want to help you, and – yes – I do have my reasons. I'll tell you them eventually, but I'm just not ready yet. I am – I don't like keeping things from you when I know you incessantly beg for an explanation, so will you promise me not to be like that? Just wait until I'm ready to tell you..."

"Most of that made no sense, but sure." He had never heard Draco stumble so much over his words. It was almost adorable. With Harry's additional nod, Draco barely repressed a chuckle as he pulled himself up.

"And besides, my business is none of your concern, Potter." He gently nudged Harry's head off of his lap and got up. "I should go."

"Glad to see you're back to normal, you arrogant prick," Harry teased. Draco puffed up like a peacock and hmphed. Yet Harry could tell that he was holding back a chuckle or a grin.

"With insults like that, it's no surprise you weren't a Slytherin." Before Harry could retort, Draco stepped into the flames and vanished.

I actually ended it on a high note for once. Gasp!