General warnings:

1) This fic deals with not-so-friendly language, blood and SLASH. Slash as in boy/boy relationships, comprendre? Not your cup of tea, then go get coffee. No flames accepted. You have been warned.

2) English is not my mother tongue so please excuse possible mistakes and kindly point them out so that I may actually learn from them.

Notes:

1) Since I haven't read the HP books in English, I might have some of the spells and characters spelled wrong, as well as some of the magical creatures.

2) The characters will be slightly OOC, but you'll see how that comes to be in future chapters.

3) Deathly Hollows non-compliant.

Disclaimer:I own my dog, my computer, my CAE certificate… wait, what? Oh, Harry Potter? Sorry, no, don't own him…Wish I did though… Unless J.K. Rowling takes a little pity on a brain-dead weirdo like myself.

Summary:It had been two weeks since they'd lost their most prized weapon… the prophesized child that should rid the world of its greatest threat, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived… Two weeks since the Order lost Harry Potter to darkness. HPDM slash. Vamp!fic

Blood-Bound

Chapter 1

Four weeks had passed since the Light lost its leader to the business end of a loyal subject. Three weeks had passed since the wizarding world saw death take Albus Dumbledore, thus landing a low blow on their world, throwing everyone in a chasm of confusion and fear.

It was two weeks later that Light took yet another blow, this one as hard, if not harder than the previous. It had been three weeks since they'd lost their most prized weapon… the prophesized child that should rid the world of its greatest threat, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived… Two weeks since the Order of the Phoenix lost Harry Potter to darkness.

The blow was harder still, as they had no one to blame but themselves. Lost in their grief and tears for their Light Lord, the Order crumbled as it had failed once again to protect its savior from the dark side's reach. Yet if fate had a choice the word of Harry Potter's fall would not reach the wizarding world's ears.

But still… moral was low within the Order's headquarters where one clearly angered Alastor Moody sat in front of the kitchen fireplace along with a crying Molly Weasley and a grim-looking Remus Lupin. Moody's magical eye was trained towards the kitchen corner, on a dirty-looking counter on top of which a dark figure sat, shadows obscuring it from prying eyes. It looked like a teenager that had curled into himself there, a mop of unruly dark hair flopping on his knees where he hid his face from the rest of the world. The figure made no movements and seemed oblivious to the glances everybody sent his way.

And then the fireplace burst into green flames, causing everyone to jump, drawing the teenager to the present along. He jumped down from the counter, trainers hitting the floor soundlessly, shadows obscuring him still, eyes briefly reflecting the emerald fire before turning down from the light, waiting for the newcomer to step through the portal.

And indeed, almost immediately two figures stepped through; both of them clad in black cloaks, yet only one of them resembled a overgrown bat, while the other resembled the ideal prince, clad in expensive clothes and a strong, confident posture that seemed to have no dent in it whatsoever.

"Severus," Molly and Remus greeted while Alastor merely grunted and the teenager's head snapped up to survey the guests, not uttering a sound all the while, but his brow creasing in something akin to anger, confusion and control.

Severus Snape, Hogwarts greasy git and all around a not very loved teacher, bowed his head nearly imperceptibly in greeting, his eyes fixed on the ex-Auror. "I trust you know the truth by now?" he inquired, his entire posture cool and collected as he unflinchingly met Moody's magical eye that pinned him to the spot.

Mad-Eye looked at him, trying to gauge a reaction from the infuriating Potions Master. He received none and he nodded once. "Aye, we know where your loyalties lay. Dumbledore's man to the very end," he agreed, drawing a growl from the up to this point silent teenager.

All eyes trained on him, some pairs trying to decide how he'll react further, not knowing what to expect while two pairs of eyes tried to identify him. "You can't be serious," he growled, his voice hoarse as if it hadn't been used in a while.

Snape merely scowled and turned to face Moody once again. "I want you to keep Mr. Malfoy here for the duration of the summer…"

"No," the teenager snapped and walked out of the shadows.

Neither Snape nor Draco recognized the boy at first sight. He was about Malfoy's age, 'blessed' with an unruly mop of midnight-colored hair that oddly suited him. The hair alone reminded both of them of Potter, but this boy had no ugly spectacles covering is brilliant emerald eyes, pools which caught thelight and seemed to hold it in their depths. He was nowhere near a scrawny short teen, but tall built, though he seemed weakened by illness and his skin was paler than death itself, more so as the young man's dark clothes emphasized the unnatural lack of pigment. And then there was his posture. Potter's posture was always defiant, always confident and always open. This stranger looked submissive, closed off and, while confident, it was nowhere near Potter's infuriating manner.

"You keep to yourself, boy!" Alastor snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously at the teen.

The teenager shook his head, his fringe flopping aside, revealing a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, causing Draco's entire posture to tense and Snape's scowl to deepen.

"Harry," Lupin softly spoke in what he wanted to be a placating manner, but Potter didn't seem to have heard him.

"No. I will not allow a pair of… of murderers to stay in Sirius' house," he snapped in a scathing tone.

"I see, Mr. Potter, that you still try to protect your dogfather's image, but you forget that he was a good for nothing mutt. He couldn't help actively and he got himself killed. You must be so pro-" Snape said but was unable to continue as a heavy weight swiftly crashed into him and pinned him to the ground.

He looked up as a hand pressed firmly onto his neck, cutting off air supply. Snape's onyx eyes met Potter's nearly gold-en… eyes. Shit!

"Potter!" Moody bellowed angrily. "Get off him!"

But Harry's anger had gotten the best of him and he wasn't listening anymore. All he was aware of was the burning pain and anger that clawed their way within his chest, bringing forward memories he never wanted to dwell on. And then all he could feel was nearly total loss of control over his entire being because there was a living, breathing, warm body underneath him and he ached… Oh, Merlin, he ached so bad… All he needed was one taste of the warm flesh beneath…

Draco watched in nearly morbid fascination as Potter straddled his godfather's hips, godfather whose eyes held a hint of fear, a feat not many accomplished, let alone the Potter brat single-handedly. He watched as Potter started to lean in as if… as if… Was Potter going to kiss Snape?

Malfoy shuddered at the thought alone, but then something else happened and Draco would later swear that it would be a turning point in his life… the point where he shoved years of forced animosity in the back of his mind and actually feel pity for his school nemesis.

"Ardere!" Mad-Eye commanded, pointing his wand at Potter who instantly jumped back and hissed at the ex-Auror, menacingly showing off a pair of razor-sharp fangs that descended from his upper gums and passed his lower lip only slightly, golden eyes that shone with supernatural power firmly trained on the older wizard.

Draco was stunned… frozen in place, his mind unwilling to comprehend the fact that Harry-Now-Literally-Bloody-Potter was a goddamned vampire. He was dimly aware of the blood-traitor, Weasley, bursting into tears and that the werewolf had jumped from his place, knocking his chair backward as he did so.

"Ardere," Moody snapped again, but Potter dodged the spell this time, jumping aside and backward, hitting the wall as he did so, returning to his normal form and Draco caught only a hint of golden that remained intertwined with the natural emerald of his eyes before the boy looked down, his entire posture hinting towards defeat and resignation.

He looked hurt, scared and lost and Malfoy's heart went out to the poor creature. After all… he was intimately aware of what a vampire's life was like and he didn't wish that to anybody. Well… maybe the Dark Lord could do with a trip down that lane. But that would make him immortal and that would beat the whole purpose of the Order.

Lupin walked towards the vampire and stretched a hand towards him but before he could touch the teen, Harry flinched away and pulled back further, not raising his eyes to meet those of anybody in the room. The werewolf tried again, with the same results, Potter reaching the door this time. He grabbed the handle and turned it, but paused to look back into the almost indifferent eyes of his Potions professor. "I'm sorry," he softly spoke, voice cracking slightly before he fled the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

"Oh, Merlin!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed, burying her face in her hands and continued crying.

Lupin racked his hands through his hair and sighed in defeat while Moody grunted and shook his head. Snape and Draco on the other hand… their eyes were fixed on the door, shocked deeply by the sudden turn of events.

"Dear Merlin, Mad-Eye! You have to let him feed at least once. Can't you see what it's doing to him?" Lupin cried, desperation clear in his tone.

"I will not let that creature take control!" Moody roared.

This was apparently a very usual discussion in the household, Draco noticed. The werewolf seemed to hold no hope for it ending with any results while the ex-Auror seemed almost bored with the situation. And then the words suddenly clicked into Malfoy's head and he felt cold rage course through his veins.

"Pardon me, but did you just say that you're starving him?" Draco asked, his voice neutral as was his expression. There was nothing on his face that betrayed his emotions, nothing on the surface that would point towards his impressions of seeing the Boy-Who-Lived.

"He can learn to control it!" Remus bellowed, as though Draco hadn't said a word, his gaze firmly stuck on Moody.

"Oh, I'm sure he can. He's completely out of control and there's only a matter of time before the bloodlust gets the better of him. What do you s'ppose we do when that happens, Remus?"

"You don't feed him?" Malfoy cut in sharply once more before Lupin could retort, causing the werewolf to turn towards him, his expression softening only slightly. "We do, Mr. Malfoy… But it's human blood he needs. Alastor forbade him to touch another human being or to accept human blood from anyone. He's surviving on animal blood."

Draco closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. How could these people be so irrevocably stupid was beyond him.

"How long since he has been turned?" Snape joined in, his voice dangerously low, causing Draco to inwardly wince.

Snape did not shout or even remotely raise his voice when he was bordering on homicidal, but his voice caught an almost deadly sort of calmness that chilled you to the very bone and often caused first year Hufflepuffs to start crying.

"Close to two weeks," Molly piped in, wiping the tears off of her face.

"Dear Merlin," Draco mumbled. "What have you been feeding him?"

"Pig's blood," Remus answered tiredly. "It's the closest thing I could find to human blood but-"

"His body rejects it," Malfoy cut in and Lupin nodded miserably. "I can't believe you! You're practically killing him!" he yelled, immediately squashing the little voice that helpfully pointed out that it was bloody Potter he was standing up for.

"He's a vampire. An evil creature. You can't expect us to-" Moody began only to be stopped mid-rant by the Potions Master.

"So is Lupin," Snape said and Moody paused, obviously thrown off balance by the sudden new perspective.

"Have you any idea what you've been doing to him?" Draco asked, trying to keep his temper in check. At the uncertain pause that filled the room he continued: "Potter's like a new-born! Human blood is like mother's milk to him, you can't deprive him of it because of your misguided and twisted beliefs about dark creatures. Put it this way… Would you try feeding an infant a stake when he can't eat, but can only drink fluids?"

Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder. Lupin slumped into a chair, his face unusually pale, eyes turning accusingly towards Mad-Eye who seemed troubled for the first time that night. Draco felt an odd wave of satisfaction swell in him at having accomplished this feat.

"I strongly suggest that we find Potter a willing donor while-" Severus started speaking, but Malfoy, having finished his speech, edged towards the door and slipped out of the kitchen, carefully taking out his wand from his robe pocket.

"Point me Harry Potter," he whispered and the wand slowly turned towards some stairs hidden in the shadows that seemed to go up to the upper levels of the house.

Malfoy followed the wand's point quietly and carefully, blending in the shadows almost naturally despite his pale complexion that should have stated otherwise. He soon came face to face with a dark door on which he gently, almost inaudibly knocked before twisting the handle and opening is.

"Go away," said Potter from the general direction of the bed.

Draco entered the room and returned his wand back in his pocket before carefully proceeding towards the bed, eyes scanning his surroundings for the vampire. "Potter," he called out.

"Go away, Malfoy," Harry hissed, drawing the Slytherin's eyes between the bed and the bedside table which was slightly shoved away, Potter having taken residence between the furniture, knees drawn to his chest and head resting on them, obviously trying to make himself as small as humanly –or vampirically, as the case goes- possible.

"No," Draco stubbornly stated, kneeling before the Gryffindor Golden Boy, careful as to not make any sudden movements. "I want to help you," he continued, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

"Why the hell would you care?" Harry lashed out wildly, his hand missing Draco's face by mere inches, his eyes tinted golden.

Draco maintained his calm. Potter was skittish and lonely… No use in aggravating the whole situation. "I don't care," he finally drawled. "But I know what it's like to be you." That caught Potter's attention, who turned to look at his blond nemesis with wide, thankfully jade eyes. "I know how the hunger, the thirst manifests itself… How it burns you from the inside-out so slowly that you sometimes think it might drive you insane. I know how you crave human touch and I know how much you need someone to just be there."

Harry stared at him, his expression torn between the desire to reach out and the fear of losing control over himself. Draco waited patiently for him to come to terms with his statements, eyes never leaving Potter's.

"How do you know all that," he finally asked, his voice wary, yet an undertone of hopefulness could be detected there.

"My aunt," Draco whispered sincerely, yet he didn't go into further details.

Harry looked at him, not saying a word. Malfoy waited to see if there were any more questions forthcoming. There weren't.

"I want you to come out of there, Potter," Draco said gently, as though he was talking to an infant… which he was, he realized. Potter didn't move at all. Draco took a deep breath and extended one hand, palm raised upwards invitingly. "Please?"

A fleeing emotion crossed Harry's features for a moment, but it passed too quickly for the Slytherin to catalogue it. But that didn't matter, because Potter's hand reached out ever so slowly, almost as if he was afraid that any sudden movements would cause him pain. Draco grasped his hand, and tugged towards him while leaning back on his heels, ready to get up. Potter followed his lead and stood a little wobbly on his feet, gaze never leaving Draco's face, almost afraid even.

Malfoy then pushed Potter on the bed, the Gryffindor going down with a surprised gasp. Draco suddenly felt nervous about what he was about to do, but went calmly through the motions of taking off his robe and draping it across a chair, one hand already moving to unbutton his dark shirt before he sat unashamedly in Harry's lap, straddling his hips and locking his gray eyes with jade ones. Potter tensed, eyes flashing golden for a fleeing moment.

"You need human blood," Draco stated simply, hands caressing Potter's body, earning a shudder from the vampire who was slowly, yet surely losing control of his darker nature… the one that basked in human contact and that craved for more, no matter who it came from.

Draco's right hand came to rest entangled in raven locks while the other cupped Potter's cheek, forcing the creature to look the blond in the eye. "You need human blood," the Slytherin repeated. "And I am offering it freely to you."

If Potter had been tense before, it was nothing compared to how rigid his body went at the words. He tried pushing Draco away, but Malfoy firmly stood his ground, eyes never leaving Harry's which were now whirlpools of emotion. There was a pure animal look in his golden orbs, a look readily described in two-bit research and half-cocked romance novels. The bloodlust. It was there, right under the surface and Harry was fighting it with all his willpower.

"Listen to me!" Draco snapped and all squirming ceased. "I am offering my blood willingly. You either accept that or I'll give you the following choice: either you take it… or I slit a vein and you'll be forced to take it," Draco said, voice deadly serious.

Harry closed his eyes as a shiver coursed through his body and nervously nodded. Draco gulped slightly before carefully guiding Potter's mouth to his neck. Harry shivered again and pressed his lips against Malfoy's jugular, feeling the blood pulsing, calling to him. He swallowed nervously before tentatively licking the little patch of flesh, tasting Draco and basking in the scent and the feel and the smell of another. He licked the spot again before sinking razor-sharp fangs into the flesh.

Draco gasped and groaned as Harry's fangs pierced him, sending both waves of pain and pleasure careering throughout his body. He absently tightened his hand in Potter's hair, pressing him closer, knowing they both needed the contact. Potter exhaled a long breath through his nose, taking another mouthful of the precious blood as he did so, enjoying the feel of Draco's beating heart within him and the nutriment that was drawn into his own body, mixing essences together.

Draco's breath slowed down, as did his heartbeat and Harry knew he'd have to stop soon because he had to keep Draco alive. Draco who had willingly fed him his own blood… Draco who was supposed to be his enemy. Draco the Death Eater who couldn't kill Dumbledore.

Before he knew it, before he'd made a conscious decision, Harry pulled back and licked the tiny puncture marks, healing the wounds on his victim's neck, eliciting a small gasp from the blond. Potter then drew away, eyes searching Malfoy's who met them slightly dazedly. His head was swimming with blood loss and Harry shifted until he got the Slytherin off his back and lay on the bed before laying beside him, carefully listening to his heartbeat, his sense running wild throughout his body, extending as though they had no boundaries.

He waited until Draco's breath evened out before closing his eyes himself and allowing his being to extend and explore his newfound power with a small smile spread on his face.

T.B.C.

Okay, I really want to know if I should continue writing this. Depending on the response I'll keep the fic going. If not… Well, it'll most probably be taken down.