Title: Bitten

Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)

Warnings: Vampire!Harry, smut (again, in later chapters), cursing

Summary: Harry's finally figured out how to lead a normal life when he gets turned into a vampire. To make matters worse, his mate turns out to be none other than Draco Malfoy...

Author's Note: A few of you who follow me on Twitter might know this from the first five chapters I posted ages ago on Livejournal. I asked a friend to beta, but he's been really busy, and I didn't want to pressure him. So, I've just gone ahead and posted the first chapter.

Chapter One

Harry's legs barely touched the floor, and he leaned most of his weight onto the counter. All around him, voices melted together, filling the pub with a pleasant buzz. As he shifted uncomfortably, he was reminded why he usually didn't wear leather pants. Quickly, he grabbed his cup and chugged what was left of his Firewhiskey. The substance burned in his throat, and his eyes screwed shut. It was his third mug, and when he stood up, he had to steady himself. A drunken smile spread across his face, and he hobbled over to Ron and Hermione. The latter was rather unsuccessfully trying to convince the ginger to dance.

"But 'Mione, I don't want to. I'll look ridiculous." He stubbornly remained sitting, while his girlfriend glared at him.

"Most of the people here are drunk. They won't care if you look ridiculous, and if they do, they certainly won't remember it." She scowled before looking up at Harry and smiling. "Hello." Harry's feet gave way a little, and he grabbed onto Hermione to steady himself.

"Sorry, 'bout that," Harry slurred.

"Mate, don't you think you should take it a little easy on the drinks?" Ron asked.

"Why would I want t' do that?"

"This is the third time this week he's gotten drunk out of his mind," Hermione muttered to herself as if Harry wasn't standing right next to her.

"I can't help it. I had t' listen t' Seamus talk about blokes he's been shaggin'. I don't know how he finds all these people. And I mean, what good is it being famous if I can't get –"

"Alright, I get it. Merlin, he needs a good shag." Ron shook his head and sighed. Harry nodded in agreement and stumbled off toward the bar again. He had trouble trying not to run into everyone on the dance floor, and mumbled apologies here and there. A hand tapped him on the shoulder, and Harry turned around to see a girl with straightened black hair beaming broadly at him. She stretched out her hand.

"Hey, I'm Alex." She tossed her hair and leaned forward. Although Harry did not shake her hand, the girl didn't seem to be put off, and continued. "No need to ask who you are, eh?"


"Rumour has it you're single."

"Well, I –" Harry ran his fingers through his hair.

"Me too."

"Bu –" She placed a finger on his lips, and Harry lost balance, falling against her. She battered her eyelashes, and he quickly pulled back.

"I just thought that you looked lonely, and maybe you could use a little pick me up." She winked and giggled, and a pink tinge was barely visible on Harry's face. "My place or yours," she whispered, leaning forward. Harry tried to say something, but her lips were moving fast towards his. With alcohol in his system, he couldn't seem to be moving out of the way, and he was wondering how in the world he was going to explain to her that he wouldn't ever go with her –

"Hey, there, Harry! I've been looking for you. You seemed to run off. I guess Luna and I just bored you talking about clothes and whatnot." Ginny leaped forward, chuckling while wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. Her eyes narrowed and she gave a warning glare to the girl.

"Oh, I didn't know you were –" A blush settled across Alex's cheeks, and she awkwardly shuffled her feet. "They said you had broken up. I guess not." Ginny's arms tightened around Harry, and the other girl walked away, looking embarrassed.

"Thanks, Gin."

"Honestly, you need to learn to speak up. I can't come in having to pretend I'm your girlfriend all the time. What are you going to do if I'm not there?" Ginny's arms dropped to her side and she smiled good-naturedly at her ex-boyfriend.

"Well, I'll just tell 'em to bugger off," he said, waving around and losing his balance.

"Drunk again, are we?"

"Mm," was his only reply.

"Look, take initiative. Ask someone out. I'm sure he won't be able to turn you down. Well, I mean, unless he's straight. But you need to try it, Harry."

"Bu' I don't even know what t' say." He looked at the girl and sighed, nervously pulling through his hair again. At least Alex seemed to be nowhere in sight. If that girl had seen how Ginny had backed off right away, she might have realized and tried coming back for a second shot at him.

"Just be yourself. Come on, who wouldn't love you?"

"Plenty o' people don't like me," he muttered.

"Well, you saved the world. That has to count for something."

"Oh, stop it. I hate it when people start callin' me the Chosen One. Complete tripe. I was jus' lucky, that's all."

"You're too modest. Anyone would be lucky to have you." She smiled widely and looked behind her. "And stop listening to Seamus. You're only depressing yourself. I have to go, Neville's waving me over." She placed another kiss on his cheek and walked away, shaking her hips in rhythm to the song.

Harry sighed and made his way over to the counter again, sitting down and staring sullenly at all the couples on the dance floor. He had loved Ginny, but as nothing more than a sister. Going out with her had been the same as going out with Cho. He had felt nothing when they kissed other than slightly uncomfortable. When he explained to Ginny, she had been incredibly understanding, and had encouraged Harry to come out. As it turned out, she had been having doubts about their relationship as well. Altogether, the break up had been nice and easy for both of them, and they remained close friends. Within a matter of months, Ginny had started going out with Dean Thomas again, and the two seemed happy. They had been going out for two years now. Harry was happy for them, but it sometimes seemed like all of his friends had someone.

"Another one, dearie?" Harry turned around to see the lady behind the bar looking at him with kind eyes. He shook his head and rested his chin on his palms. Perhaps Ginny was right. Perhaps he should ask someone out. But what was he supposed to say? 'Hey, I like blokes. I've heard you like blokes, too. Want to go out with me?' That didn't seem like something that would go over well with the average person. Overall, asking people out was just too awkward. And if he did do it, it could wait until he could at least form a coherent sentence.

"Hello." Luna sat down on the stool next to him.


"You look depressed." She looked at the bartender and added, "Red Currant Rum, please."


"Look on the bright side. There are no Nargles floating around here. At least, none that I've seen." This managed to at least put a slight smile on Harry's face. Some things never would change. "Rolf and I are going to go looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks next month." The smile vanished. Even Luna Lovegood had a steady boyfriend for the last six months. And here he was, single and a virgin. He hadn't even kissed anyone in over three years! Seamus' stories rattled around in his head and he winced.

"Sounds like fun." Harry sounded far from happy for her.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll get a boyfriend soon enough." She always seemed to know what was on his mind.

"Right, and the bloody Pope is workin' for the Minister."

"You've heard about that, too?" Harry blinked several times, not sure what to reply. "And ignore Seamus." She placed a few coins down on the counter as the drink was handed to her and took a sip.

"Wha' has he got, a Nargle in his brain, or somthin'?" Luna shook her head and stood up.

"A Wrackspurt." With that, she pranced away.

"I'm never going to get a boyfriend," Harry pronounced to no one in particular.

"Not with that attitude, dearie. This one's on the house." She placed another mug of Firewhiskey in front of him. He was drunk enough as it was, how bad could another one be? It couldn't get much worse, could it? And if he ended up passing out, Hermione and Ron would always take care of him. With that thought, Harry grabbed it and chugged it down gulp by gulp. When he finally set it down, sputtering and eyes watering, he face was completely red, and his eyes had a distant look.

"You're righ'. I'm gonna go and ge' myself a boyfriend tomorrow. I'll jus' go up t' him and tell 'im, 'I'm Harry fuckin' Potter, and you're gonna go out with me if you like it 'r not.'"

"Well, I wouldn't be quite as forceful with the lad. But you're getting the – err spirit." The lady smiled at him and walked off to take someone else's order.

Harry pounded his fist on the counter and continued mumbling to himself. "I'll go ou' there. I'm a fuckin' Gryffindor. I'm not 'fraid of anything. So what if he says no. I'll go and ask 'nother one. I'll go to a bleedin' brothel if I have to." He didn't notice the stares he was getting. "I'm Harry Potter an' I'm gay an' I'm not goin' t' die a virgin!"

"I'd calm down if I were you," Hermione said, coming up from behind him. "Half the pub can hear you."

"As I said, he needs to be shagged." Ron pulled through a crowd of people and appeared next to her.

"And are you willing to do it?" Hermione asked. Both Harry and Ron opened their mouths to protest, Ron's face turning green. "I thought not. You're not helping." Harry grabbed the empty mug of what was Firewhiskey, and put it up to his lips, trying to get a few of the remaining droplets. Before he could taste anything, however, Hermione snatched it out of his hands. "You're completely drunk." She sighed.

"I wouldn't be if all the guys here weren't single. Seamus is the only guy that's ever offered t' shag me, and I don't even like 'im! 'Though, if no one else shows up, I might jus' say yes." He scowled at the mug in Hermione's hand, and then looked around to see where the bartender was. She was at the other end, chatting animatedly with a couple.

"Look, mate, I'm all for finding a guy if it shuts you up." Ron received a glare from his girlfriend. "But you're getting desperate right now, and – well – you're acting kind of mental. Just go home and sleep on it."

"Maybe I shoul' go find Seamus..." Harry's eyes started to become vacant as drunken thoughts overtook his mind.

"Listen to yourself, Harry!" Hermione shouted, and Harry jumped. "You'd regret it in the morning. You don't even like Seamus. And if you still think it's a brilliant idea in the morning when you're sober, then, fine! Go ahead. But what I'm saying is, you're drunk and you need to go home and sleep before you collapse here."

"I'm perfectly alrigh', 'Mione." Harry's words melted together, and he tried to get up. The moment his legs touched solid ground and he had nothing to support himself on, he was on a heap, sprawled out, laughing hysterically.

"Too late. I think he's gone completely mad," Ron muttered. They each grabbed one of his arms and hoisted him up. "We're going to let go. Try to stand, okay?" Their hands left him, and although Harry wobbled, he remained upright.

"See, tol' you I was fine." He smiled widely, his breath reeking of alcohol. His steps were unsteady, but he took a few experimentally, beaming wider when he didn't topple over.

"Just go home, okay. Apparate and go straight to bed. You'll have to go to work tomorrow." She took out a vial holding some amber-coloured liquid. "Take this in the morning. It's a sobering potion. I'm not going to envy the migraine you're going to have when you wake up. And be careful. Don't wander around after you leave the pub. Just straight home, alright?"

"He gets it, Hermione. Just calm down. See you, tomorrow, then." Harry nodded and tucked the vial into his pocket.

He wasn't even allowed to have any fun without his friends interrupting. Pouting, he started to make his way through the crowds, when suddenly someone seemed to appear out of thin air beside him. And it was just any someone. This someone had defined muscles visible beneath his clinging button-up. His eyes were a creamy brown that matched his hair. Maybe this night wasn't going to be so bad, Harry decided.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation earlier." A twinkle reached the guy's eye, and he leaned against Harry.

"Did ya?" A lopsided smile plastered itself onto Harry's face.

"I was wondering how someone like you could be single still."

"Don't know. It's a mystery." Harry sounded overly eager, but the guy just laughed.

"So, you're not only sexy, but funny as well. So, tell me, Harry –" the r's rolled off of his tongue and his eyes seemed to smoulder "– my place or yours?" What was with people being so direct today? Not that he particularly minded with this bloke... Before Harry could answer, though, another man appeared beside him. This one was taller and was equally as attractive. His clothes weren't quite to Harry's taste – the jeans and tee-shirt were casual and baggy – but that wouldn't matter if they were on the floor. Harry's lust-filled thoughts were put to an end fairly quickly, though.

"Merlin, Arthur, you're not flirting with the poor boy, now are you? Bloody tosser..." Harry looked inquiringly back and forth between the two men. "He's my boyfriend. Goes and teases every gay guy he meets, though." He gave Harry an apologetic look as Harry's face fell into a look of utter disappointment.

"I didn't even get to do anything with him, Reg. Just a kiss?"


"You're no fun to go out with. What's the point of going clubbing if I can't have fun?"

Harry watched the couple walk away, looking even more distraught when they clasped hands and leaned together for a kiss. Soon, however, they disappeared as they were engulfed in a crowd. Sighing, Harry stumbled toward the exit.

"I'm jus' gonna go home an' go t' bed," he mumbled to himself. At least he had a new face to wank to.

The doors swung open and closed gently behind Harry as he walked out. The cold air hit him, and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Wand in hand, he Apparated right outside the perimeter of his house. He had set up anti-Apparation charms with Hermione's help. It wasn't that he didn't trust most people, but he felt he could sleep better at night if he knew no one was just going to pop up at any given moment.

As he neared the house, he swore he heard a rustle in the bushes. Harry looked around, but the world wasn't too much in focus, even with his glasses on. No further sounds came, and he sighed. It was probably just some animal in the bushes. But as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, he swore he heard it move again. Just before he could turn around, a hand wrapped around his neck, holding his head in place. The other hand knocked his wand to the ground. Weakly, he tried to struggle, his heart pounding loudly against his chest. His mouth opened to yell, but no sound came out. His hands were trembling. He was in no state to fight anyone, and even sober he wouldn't know what to do.

A soft chuckle was issued from behind him. Harry kicked backward with his leg, but missed the target altogether.

"Trying to put up a fight? It's no use." The unknown man chuckled again, and this time, it was right next to Harry's ear. Some fabric brushed up against Harry's face, and a blindfold was wrapped around his eyes. Before he could reach up to pull them off, his something was wrapped around his arms as well. "Safety precautions... Not that you know me, but you'll remember my face even after..." Even after what, Harry wondered.

Before he could complain any further, there was a sharp pain in his neck. Harry silently gasped, and struggled, but the pain dulled down to a warm feeling. It was similar to the happy buzz of alcohol, only indescribably better. A moan heard by no one was released from Harry's lips, and he fell limp into the man's arms. He sucked and lapped at the skin, and Harry even felt his cock starting to twitch. Maybe it was the same guy from the pub. Maybe this was his kinky idea of a surprise. Yet somehow, even drunk, Harry felt that couldn't be it.

The man suddenly moved away, and Harry went to protest at the lack of contact, but instead felt cold skin pressed against lips. There was something wet on them, something that tasted metallic. Harry didn't know what to do, but the arm was suddenly pressed further in so that the liquid flowed down his throat. Harry swallowed it, unsure what else to do.

And then, that touch vanished, too. There was the sound of footsteps fading away, and the bounds on his arms were magically undone. Harry immediately grasped at the blindfold on his eyes, but there was a sharp crack.

"Fuck." Apparently, he could talk again. Harry grabbed his wand and stumbled inside. He was starting to feel numb all over, and it wasn't from the alcohol. As quickly as he could, he pulled himself to the bathroom. Although he tried to retch, nothing came out. Instead he only managed a weak cough. Harry covered his mouth, and stared wide-eyed at his hand as it pulled back. Blood?

Of course! It all made sense now. He had just been bitten by a vampire. And, oh, Gods, he had drank its blood. Quickly, he willed himself to throw up again, but he couldn't think, and his eyes were refusing to remain open. Darkness seemed so happy in comparison. He leaned down against the cold, tiled floor, unable to stay awake anymore.

In a giant wave, pain hit his body, and he screamed if only for a moment. And then it all went black.