Author's Note: Ehh, so, um. I'm finally updating. *ducks* Don't kill me! I know that I should have updated ages ago. I'll try to update the next chapter within the next three days.

Chapter 15

Harry woke up with his arm curled around Draco. The blond was still fast asleep, and his head was lolled over to one side. He looked so peaceful. Harry was afraid that if he shifted, he would wake him, so he simply lay there, watching him. He watched his eyes move behind his eyelids.

What was Draco even dreaming about? Harry couldn't help but hope that somehow it was him. Of course, the proposition was ridiculous. After all that had happened to Draco, for his dreams to revolve around him – it was a silly thought. If he was dreaming about anyone in particular – well, it was best not to start the day thinking about that. There was plenty of time to be depressed about his insignificance later on.

Instead he lay there, watching Draco's lips curl upward into a smile and his fingers twitch around an invisible object. The time passed quickly enough with Draco curled up against him. It wasn't long before his slight movements turned into incomprehensible murmurs. Whenever they'd sound frightened or unsure, Harry's hand would reach up, and he'd gently brush back his hair. Draco would relax again, the sounds fading away into his dreams.

It was nice to help in whatever ways he could. And there certainly weren't that many. It didn't take long before Draco began mumbling William's name in his sleep. He turned around, still fast asleep, and nuzzled his head into Harry's chest. It was hard to swallow or breathe. He ached. Even with Draco beside him, he wasn't there at all. He was off thinking about his one true love. Draco couldn't help but be bitter.

"William must have really been someone to keep your heart this long." It had been years since that summer, and yet it was all Draco could think about. Harry felt selfish as his eyes clenched shut and he willed the pain to go away.

How could he think about his own hurt? Draco had watched William die. Sirius never had left him, truly. He had seen Sirius arch backwards, become engulfed in that veil. Death had a way of staying with you. If Ginny had died during the war – well – he never would have stopped loving her to an extent. And in any case, he would have felt guilty for Merlin knows how long.

Those thoughts somehow made Harry feel better, and as he ran his fingers through Draco's hair again, he smiled. The blond continued nuzzling against him, and Harry couldn't help but kiss his forehead lightly. Harry knew this was more than vampire attraction. His feelings reached deeper than blood and deep-rooted desire. If it had been uncertain before, now it was definite.

Draco wasn't a shallow git – how he could have ever thought that was beyond him. In fact, Draco had given up everything to help him. He was risking his life, yet here he was, snuggled up against him as if nothing was wrong. Sure, he wanted to help William – it wasn't purely out of the kindness of his heart – but he could have easily turned it down or decided it was too much when Harry was almost caught.

And when Draco had kissed him, behind the approval and possession, there was a spark. He didn't want to let Draco go. Harry felt happy with him. He could discuss things feely, and Draco knew what to say, understood how he felt. Better yet, Draco didn't like him because he was the "Chosen One." Draco didn't treat him like he was better than everyone else. He still wanted Harry to prove himself to be worthy of his time. It was more than he could have asked for.

Harry pulled out his wand. What time was it? "Tempus." 18:47 shone for a moment before fading away. It was already evening. They must have gone to sleep in the morning if Draco still wasn't awake. As if reading his thoughts, the blond began to shift, and his eyes fluttered open. He smiled, looking up at Harry, and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, there, sleepyhead," Harry said, pulling Draco closer and placing a small peck on his cheek.

"Mm, I don't think I've slept that well in ages," Draco mumbled before turning Harry so that he lay on his stomach. "People have told me I give the best massages."

"Is that so?" Harry felt two legs straddle him, and then Draco began kneading his back. With his touch, Harry's muscles relaxed. He seemed to know all the right spots to hit, and he even left a trail of kisses down his back as he worked.

"Like right here –" Draco pressed down, his fingers making small circles – "there's a knot. But it can easily be undone." He whispered the last part into Harry's ear, and Harry barely stifled a moan. Draco was playing with him more than he'd like. The blond knew how easily he could sculpt him. Still, the next few moments were silent, and Draco's fingers worked in a godly fashion, trailing lower and lower down his back. By the time he was done, Harry barely felt like getting up; he was so comfortable.

"You're amazing," Harry muttered, forcing himself to shift and face Draco.

"Oh, I know." Draco sat up on the edge of the bed before stretching and getting up. He walked over to the chest of drawers, and pulled open a compartment. "You wouldn't mind if I borrow something? I didn't bring any of my own stuff." Harry shook his head. It was surprising how little Draco cared what he was taking. He grabbed an old t-shirt and some tattered jeans, and slung them on. Of course, he somehow managed to make it look like a new style.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked.

"Do what?"

"Well, those clothes actually look like some fashion trend. I don't know. When I put them on, I look like a..." He searched for the word.

"Like a bum? I'm a model. It's part of the job description." He smirked, but looked down. "Still, this would work better if they weren't so incredibly baggy. I'm hungry." Harry nodded.

"Are you going home to eat?" He didn't want Draco to leave yet, but Draco merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't want to intrude. I can't invite myself over for breakfast. Or, well, what time is it, anyway?" Harry waved his wand, and the time flickered again. It was 18:58 now. "Well, then, dinner. I don't want to be a bother, in any case."

"I'm sure they were expecting you. Don't worry." Harry pulled himself up, and grabbed something similar to Draco. "There, we match." Draco scowled.

"Oh, dear Merlin. That's not a good thing, you know." Harry laughed, and ruffled Draco's hair.

"C'mon, you prick." He opened the door and walked over to the kitchen. Draco followed him, yawning. Ron and Hermione were already there, but they huddled together, whispering. When they heard footsteps, they both jerked upright. Hermione's eyes were red; she had clearly been crying. Even Ron shook. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"What is it?" Harry dreaded knowing what it was. What possibly could have happened? Did they find out about him? Did someone get hurt? But instead of looking at him, their eyes traced back to Draco. What – Draco! Were they still on about his danger levels? Harry was pretty sure he had proven himself. Harry threw himself in front of Draco, but Hermione shook her head.

"Mal – Draco, something happened." Hermione shook again, and Harry looked back, watching Draco's smile freeze and then slowly fade away. Harry grabbed his hand, but didn't know what to say. Whatever had happened, it was bad if they were reacting like this. Draco seemed to sense this too. He shook off Harry's hand and stormed up to them. His attempt at anger was weak, and he slid instead into a chair.

"What happened? Tell me!" Harry walked up behind Draco, ready to help him if there was any way he could

"It's – Oh, Ron, you tell him. I can't..." Hermione broke down, clutching Ron and turning her face away.

"What happened?" Draco's voice was barely a whisper this time, and his eyes were opened wide with fear.

"They found Pansy, Blaise, and Theo dead earlier today." Draco went rigid, and he wildly shook his head.

"No! No! Not them... They're fine. Stop lying." Draco's voice broke, and his shoulders started to tremble.

"It was a vampire attack. But that's not..." He shivered, and Draco continued shaking his head from side to side, blubbering "no" under his breath. "There was a message in their blood. On the wall..." Draco sobbed, turning around and clutching Harry.

"What did it say?" Harry could barely breathe, but he asked anyway. Ron gagged before continuing.

"I told you not to tell." Draco shuddered.

"It was him – my fucking father!" Hermione broke free, and ran to the bathroom. There were repeated retching sounds.

"Kingsley thought it was you." Ron's voice was a monotone. "He took us to the – We saw. He wanted to make sure we understood you were dangerous." His eyes closed, and he gagged again, sputtering.

Draco's wails broke through. His hands dug into Harry, and he fell from his chair, down to his knees. The sounds coming from Draco were becoming painful to hear. Harry knelt down next to him, holding him. Draco's grip on him was borderline strangling. Harry had trouble breathing, but he let Draco squeeze as tightly as he wanted. Draco's heart shattered. He gulped for breath, and his head fell into Harry's neck. Harry could only hold him, and Ron watched, unsure what to say.

"I – I'm so sorry," he finally managed to get out. Between Draco's sobs, Harry could hear Hermione continuing to throw up.

"You should check on her," he whispered. "I'll handle Draco." Draco pulled back, his entire face red.

"Handle me? You can't fucking ha –" He couldn't get any more out, and simply collapsed again into Harry's arms. Harry stroked his hair, humming quietly, hoping Draco would be able to at least stop crying. He had gotten used to this kind of behaviour for a month after the war, but then it had faded away again. But now Draco lay in front of him, completely torn. When he finally began to settle down – when the screaming tamed down to whimpers – he looked at Harry with dead eyes. "No. Not them."

"I'm so sorry, Draco." He pushed strands of blond hair out of his eyes, and cupped his chin. It hurt to see Draco in so much pain. And it was even worse that he was helpless. Nothing Harry said could make it better. Draco finally pulled himself up, and he leaned forward, kissing Harry. If it could even be called a kiss... He snarled, pressing Harry against the floor and attacking his mouth. Harry couldn't have expected it; the move was so sudden.

His teeth clashed against Harry's, drawing blood, and Harry couldn't help but moan. Still, Draco pinned him up, holding Harry's arms above his head with one hand. His other hand ran through Harry's hair, down his chest – it seemed to be everywhere. His bloodied lips nipped at Harry's skin, down his neck, and he renewed at full force kissing him. His tongue traced Harry's teeth, and he drew Harry's lower lip back, smirking. When Ron stepped into the kitchen to see what was going on, Draco growled, and Harry barely could look up to see Ron edging away, looking frightened.

"No, not here." Draco jumped off of Harry, leaving him panting on the ground, hair thrown in every direction, and his face smeared with both of their blood.

"Draco, I –"

"Shut up." He grabbed Harry's hand, yanking him up. Harry could barely think, barely process what was going on. The mix of the kiss and the blood was potent. Everything except for Draco was out of focus. He couldn't concentrate. So, he let Draco guide him, open the bookcase and lead them in. The door locked behind them, and Draco cast a silencing spell. He pressed their lips together one more time before yanking apart and sneering. "Fuck me."

"What!" That snapped Harry out of the trance. The words were – Well, not that the thought wasn't – But he couldn't! I'd hurt him.

"What, did I stutter? I want you to fuck me." But, no, he doesn't want me. This was just another way to replace William with him. How could Draco ask this of him? He knew that it was nearly impossible to say no. It was difficult to restrain himself when given such an open invitation from his mate.

"I'm not Willi –" Draco drew his hand back and smacked Harry across the face. There was a sharp pain, and Harry could feel little beads of blood forming. He gasped, and fell back onto the bed when Draco pushed him.

"I said shut up! No one said anything about that. You will fuck me." Harry whimpered, screwing his eyes shut. He couldn't give in, not like this. No matter what Draco said, Harry knew him, knew that he longed for nothing more than comfort.

But it was William's comfort he wanted. If he couldn't have William – well, Harry was the next best choice. But Harry couldn't let that happen. As much as he wanted it, he didn't want to be used as a replacement.

But then Draco's hand reached down, unzipping his hands, reaching behind his boxers, and grabbing – oh God. Any coherent thoughts melted away as Draco quickly yanked his boxers and pants down. "Now, like I said. You're going to do it." Harry let out a strangled sound as Draco's mouth moved lower. Then there was only the briefest moment of warmth. Harry's head hit the wall as his hips jerked forward, but the pain barely even registered. Draco moved away, smirking, and suddenly there was a tube of lube sitting on the bed beside them.

"C'mon, you have to know what to do? Haven't you wanted to fuck me from the beginning anyway?" Harry couldn't remember how to shake his head; instead, he nodded. "Haven't you wanted to feel me under you, writhing, sweating, pulsing with life?" Harry could barely swallow; the venom crowded his mouth. "Haven't you wanted to make me come?" The challenge stood for a moment as Draco cocked an eyebrow, and Harry couldn't restrain himself any longer. Fuck it. If this was how he was going to play it, then let it happen.

Harry lunged at Draco, pinning him to the ground and kissing him brutally. He ran his fingers through his hair and plunged in with his tongue, probing, tasting, feeling. Draco moaned beneath him, and Harry smirked into the kiss. His entire body vibrated. This was what it was like to be alive. With a forceful jerk, his hands tore his own t-shirt off of Draco, and he moved downward, licking his chest, feeling the heart beat faster beneath him. Harry placed an ear to the chest for the briefest moment, then moved back, taking a nipple in his mouth and gently sucking. Draco arched up into him, muttering incomprehensibly.

"You're mine. You got that. Mine." His hand worked at the pants with ease, and he pulled them down. Finally, he could admire Draco in all of his glory. The blond simply lay on the ground, panting, hard as a rock. His neglected cock wasn't left untouched for too long, though. Harry took Draco into his mouth quickly, easing his way down until it was entirely engulfed. He could feel Draco tense beneath him, feel the blood rush into his cock. Harry pulled back, swallowing the venom and wiping his mouth. Before Draco could even make a noise protesting the lack of contact, though, Harry was taking him again, licking and swirling his tongue around the weeping tip.

He could tell when Draco was close, and pulled back, a smirk across his face. Moving over to the lube, he coated his fingers liberally, pressing one into Draco. The blond's scream was cut off as Harry roughly kissed him, absorbing the sound. When Draco had relaxed, he added another finger, stretching them. Draco whimpered beneath him, but Harry merely continued to place kisses down his neck and chest. "Shh, baby, everything will be okay." Draco merely shook his head, and Harry scowled, stroking his hair. Humans were so fragile.

He added one last picture, cringing at the pain when Draco's eyes fluttered open, hissing when Draco made more horrible sounds. His mate was going to enjoy this. Carefully, he pulled out, coating his own cock. Before he could, Harry had a sudden desire. Quickly, he picked Draco up, leaning him against the pillows. Then his head went down. The puckered hole was practically an open invite. Harry's tongue slid in, and Draco's impatient drones were cut off with a gasp of shock. His toes curled, and his hips jerked upwards, eager for more. Harry went deeper, feeding off of the sounds that Draco was making.

But he could barely wait any longer. His own skin tingled, and he wanted to feel Draco contract around him. He wanted to burry himself deep inside that – Harry moaned, and pulled back, positioning himself above Draco. "This is it, love." Draco nodded, looking at him with wide, blue eyes. Harry eased himself in, groaning. It was better than he could have possibly imagined. Pressure surrounded him from all sides, and he threw his head back. It was nearly impossible to restrain thrusting in. But Draco needed time to adjust.

But the time Draco was ready, Harry licked little beads of perspiration off of his forehead and thrust. He must have hit a spot inside of Draco because the blond made a completely new sound – strangled and all too wonderful. Harry aimed, hitting it again, watching Draco throw his head back and gasp. And then there was that own feeling of warmth and completeness. Being with Draco in this way – Harry could barely comprehend it. He felt the warmth grow in his stomach. His own stomach tightened, and his jaw began to ache. He was hungry for something more. Draco's fingers suddenly clutched him, and he came in spurts across Harry's chest. Yet as close as Harry was, there was something more he needed.

Throwing his head back, Draco deflated, a smile upon his lips. But Harry didn't see the smile. He only saw the skin and the gentle thud of the heart beneath it. Blood was there beneath that skin, and Harry could practically taste it. In one swift movement, he moved down, slicing through the flesh with his teeth as easily as breathing. His mouth exploded, and as he drank, he finally exploded, pushed over the brink with that taste. He wanted more and more. It was barely enough, and even after he lay flaccid inside of Draco, he continued to drink, ignoring the fists beating at his chest. They slowly died down. Harry didn't see Draco's hands limply fall to his side, or hear his screams die away.

It was only when he had drunk to the point of exploding that he pulled back and saw the damage. Draco was whiter than ever before, and his entire neck was coated red. Harry froze. "No, Draco! No!" Quickly, he leaned down, feeling his neck, scrambling, trying to get a pulse. "Please, Draco..."His hands shook, and he barely found it. It was weak – weak enough that if he didn't get help within the next minute he could die. There were no blood-replenishing potions in the room, and as Harry scrambled toward the door, he realised that by the time he found it, Draco would be dead.

There was only one thing left to do. Harry reached up, using his teeth to slice his own skin. Immediately his blood poured down his arm. Harry reached over to Draco, propping him up and placing his hand on his lips. "Drink, dammit!" Draco sputtered as he tasted the blood, but Harry forced it down, quickly making the cut bigger. This time Draco definitely reacted. He began to breathe again.

"C'mon Draco..." His chest relaxed, and Draco took small breaths. He was asleep, good. "Oh, God, what have I done?"

Oops, and I leave you with a cliffhanger...