A/N: hey guys! Chapter 9 already, wow! I have a few things to talk about before this chapter starts today, so let's get into that.

The amount of support for these stories has been overwhelming! Comments were rare during when Understood was being written, and now I get comments every single day! I'm sorry I can't respond to them all, but I do read all of them!

Above is a trailer for a new, I believe fanmade, Harry Potter spin-off film. It's supposed to be about the origins of Voldemort. See, I think a movie like that, documenting Tom Riddle's life, even about the Gaunts would be really awesome, but then they introduce this character called Grisha McLaggen (forgive me if that's wrong) and it's instead about her, who is the heir of Gryffindor. Now, an heir of Gryffindor has never been mentioned throughout the books. We know that Slytherin's heir was Tom Riddle, while some believe that Hufflepuff's was Cedric Diggory, or Zacharias Smith. Nothing about Gryffindor's heir exists, and now they're making Cormac McLaggen the newest heir? I dunno, something about that doesn't sit well with me. I'll watch it because I'm a die-hard fan, but I think the whole 'heir of Gryffindor with a bad British accent' thing is going to be what puts people off.

The new books! I got all four and the extra postcard thing last weekend. The Gryffindor one has a fact file on Harry, the Slytherin one has a fact file on Draco, and the Hufflepuff one has some Newt Scamander stuff in it! All the books have stuff on different characters and about the houses. They're super cool, really pretty books. The sides of the pages are in house colours, and the Ravenclaw one is blue and orange. I thought Ravenclaw was blue and silver? Am I wrong and havebeen lied to my whole life? I'm re-reading them, so if you notice some stuff here relating to the first book... go read Philosophers Stone and see if you can find it!

I'm doing exams right now, so be thankful you get a chapter XD hopefully this chapter is okay. Sorry for making you guys wait so long between chapters!

Anyways, enough from me, on with the ninth chapter of Eternal!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

******

Long scream.

Inhale.

Short scream.

Inhale.

Longer scream.

Draco collapsed to the floor of the Room Of Requirement, breathing heavily and fighting back tiredness. A choked sob of frustration, pain and anger left his lips as he picked up a book beside him, throwing it at the tall, black cabinet in front of him.

It hit the object with a thump, the book falling to the floor, the cabinet still standing tall and looming over him almost tauntingly.

It had been a week. A week of pain, a week of skipping classes in favour of sleeping and recovering. A week of splitting headaches, nausea and nightmares, a week of staring at his ceiling and wanting, praying, for this cabinet to be fixed the next evening.

The first spells had been the simple ones. The ones he could manage without collapsing, the ones that he could simply grit his teeth through. Now though, he was attempting the other ones, which either made him pass out or reduced him to a completely hopeless mess.

The pain was unbearable, worse than anything else he'd ever felt. It was almost as if someone had multiplied the effects of the cruciatis curse by ten. Draco was sure that a normal dose of crucio would feel like nothing compared to this agony he was being forced through.

And all for what? Why did this cabinet need to be fixed? Why was it broken again in the first place? He'd fixed it in his second year, and at that point he didn't know that anyone else knew how to access the room. What was the purpose of the cabinet, anyways? He never learnt where it's twin was, never learnt where any of the objects put into it disappeared to.

It was for Harry. For Harry, he would continue to suffer, he would continue to willingly go through any type of pain. Night after night that he accidentally fell asleep, he was met with himself, corpse like, blood staining the back of his head. This other version of himself's threats seemed to get worse and worse with every day that passed, threatening to take over Draco's body and commit the ultimate deed that would bring about his own end.

To kill Harry Potter. Was such a feat even possible? Draco doubted he could do it, even under the effects of the imperius curse. Harry was powerful, armed with a set of skills that made him the perfect predator and a deadly foe. Even so, Draco reasoned that he had to try his best to fix this cabinet. It was his duty to protect his mate, no matter what the cost.

The boy in question seemed quite oblivious to Draco's state, spending most of his time with his head buried in a battered, old copy of Advanced Potions Making. Draco didn't question him, as Harry already had enough to worry about.

Now charged with the task of getting close to Slughorn, most of Harry's spare time was taken up 'accidentally' running into the teacher, initiating friendly conversation, and focusing a little too much in class. Every potion Harry made was now perfect, and Draco had no idea how he was doing it, but frankly, the werewolf didn't really care. He was too busy simply trying to scrape by.

Staring up at the roof, Draco fought back unconsciousness, sitting up and running a hand shakily through his hair. He refused to be beaten by this object, this cabinet that had no apparent purpose.

He would fix it, no matter what.

******

Herbology. A class that Harry found particularly useless, especially after encountering all the anti-vampire plants that the greenhouses accommodated. And there were a lot of them.

Nearly passing out when he got too close to the aspen tree was fun to explain to Professor Sprout, or the panicking about the juniper plant in the corner that blocked all of his powers. Good times.

Today though, the greenhouse was filled with students talking as they all sat at a large table, working on essays. Professor Sprout was liked amongst the students for many reasons, one of which included the fact that she allowed her students to talk during class, as long as they got their work done.

Hermione and Ron sat on either side of Harry, Hermione blocking his view of the aspen tree.

"Slughorn's hosting a party," Hermione said, scribbling down another line onto her piece of already ink covered parchment.

"And this is just a party for Slughorn's favourites, is it?" Ron asked, contempt in his voice, nearly punching holes in his parchment.

"Yes, just for the Slug Club. He wanted me to let you know, Harry, you're invited-"

"The Slug Club?" Harry snorted, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't make up the name!" Hermione said indignantly. The Slug Club had been formed after Slughorn had invited a few students from various classes to a dinner one evening. The man seemed to have an odd habit of hosting events for his favourite students. Ron however, resented it a lot.

Hermione had only gotten in after being invited to the dinner by Cormac Mclaggen. Ron, of course, hadn't been happy about this fact.

"Slug Club," Ron repeated, a sneer on his face. "Well, I hope you'll enjoy your party. Who knows, maybe you'll get off with Mclaggen, and Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug-"

"We're supposed to bring guests," Hermione cut him off, glaring. "And I was going to invite you, but if you think it's so stupid then I won't bother!"

Harry froze, not wanting to listen to a second more of this conversation. He tried to block out the words, focusing on anything but the people on either side of him. Draco. How happy he'd look when Harry invited him to be his date, how stunning he'd look in whatever he wore. They'd hang out all evening, Draco would have his full and undivided attention. And then when the party was over they'd go back to their dorm and-

"Harry?" Hermione waved a hand in front of his face, bringing the vampire back to his senses. "Are you okay? You've gone very red."

"Fine," Harry mumbled, turning his attention back to his parchment, hating being caught in the middle of two people who were now sending glares at each other every time they looked up.

******

Saturday, oh, glorious Saturdays. A snowflake landed on Harry's nose as he trudged down the path to Hogsmeade, Hermione and Ron at his side.

He'd invited Draco to come and have lunch with them, but the werewolf had said something blearily about homework and sleeping, so Harry thought it was best to leave him to it. There was a last minute Quidditch practice this evening before the Slytherin VS Gryffindor game tomorrow, which with Draco as the opposing seeker was bound to be interesting.

Ron and Hermione still weren't talking, much to Harry's chagrin. He didn't like being stuck in the middle of them, at least without Draco there to talk to.

The Three Broomsticks was warm, the three quickly finding a table. Ron excused himself after a few moments to go and order their lunches.

"So..." Hermione said quietly. "Have you spoken to Ginny recently?"

Harry frowned, looking at the girl through his lashes. "Hermione, I live in a different dorm and we share no classes. When would I talk to her?"

"At Quidditch, maybe?"

"Why?"

Hermione sighed. "She wanted you to invite her to Slughorn's party."

"I thought she was already going, and dating Dean?" Harry replied, frown deepening.

"She is, but she wanted to go as your date."

Harry shook his head, looking at the table and trying to decipher some words someone had carved into the wooden surface. "I can't invite her."

"Why not?"

"You know why, Hermione," Harry snapped. "She doesn't like me because of who I am, she likes me because I have that effect on everyone, she likes me because of what I am. I don't like being the centre of her attention; it freaks me out! She's practically a sister to me, which makes it weird. Besides, I'm already taking someone."

"You're bringing Malfoy, aren't you?" Harry nodded. "When are you going to tell people? This is getting ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Harry retorted. "What, you want me to just walk into the Great Hall and announce that I'm snogging Draco Malfoy?" He hissed under his breath. "Yes, because that would go down well."

"I get your point," Hermione sighed, face red. "Why can't we just set you up with a nice Gryffindor boy? Of all the people you chose, why him?"

"Because I love him, Hermione," Harry said firmly. "This isn't a joke, I'm not desperate, I'm not taking advantage of him, it's serious. He understands me."

"Understands you?" Hermione huffed. "What, more than we do? We've been your friends since first year, Harry. He's been your nemesis until fourth year, and he somehow understands you more than we do?"

"He's going through the exact same thing as me!"

"What, just because he's a werewolf?" Hermione snorted. "Aren't they supposed to hate vampires?"

"Hermione, whether you like it or not, I love him. I don't like anyone else."

Hermione just blinked, thinking it over. "I question your judgement a lot, Harry. You do a lot of dumb stuff sometimes. I'm just hoping that this isn't your dumbest action yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Harry, I trust you," Hermione said. "And if you're completely sure, then I'll stand by you, but you have to tell people one day. It can't stay a secret for much longer."

"It'll stay a secret as long as it needs to," Harry said, although he couldn't deny the burst of happiness he felt. Hermione didn't care. She trusted him.

Hermione tapped her fingernails on the table, eyes widening as she saw something. Harry went to turn around, but Hermione stopped him. "Don't," she whispered. "It's Ginny, she's here with Dean. Dean has some sort of vendetta against you now because Ginny fancies you."

Harry felt like slamming his head into the table. "Why me?"

"Because you're a pretty little vampire and all the ladies love you."

"Thanks, Hermione."

The bushy haired girl just rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. Ron returned, not knowing anything about Harry and Hermione's conversation. He slammed two mugs of butterbeer in front of them, taking a hearty swig from his own.

Harry simply stared at the drink in front of him with a bit of distaste.

"Aren't you going to drink it?" Ron asked, frowning.

"I, uh, can't," Harry replied.

"Why not? You on a stupid diet or something?" The redhead asked with a snort, licking off the moustache of butterbeer foam that had gathered on his upper lip.

"No, I just can't eat food or drink stuff anymore, unless it's well, blood," Harry said quietly, keeping his voice low.

Ron frowned in confusion. "But you ate dinner at Grimmauld Place once, I remember."

"I threw it up afterwards," Harry admitted.

"I paid for that and everything," Ron muttered, grabbing the mug and pulling it towards himself instead.

"I'll pay you back," Harry replied, leaning on his elbow. They sat in silence for a few seconds, before Ron's eyes finally found Ginny and Dean, who were sitting in a darkened corner. His eyes narrowed.

"Who does she think she is, going around and snogging everyone?" Ron huffed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Everyone? Well, she hasn't snogged me, so-"

"No, but I mean, why does she have to, like, do it at all?"

"Because she's perfectly within her right to," Hermione stated, seemingly amused by how repulsed Ron was at his sister.

Harry's unbeating heat sunk as Ginny happened to glance in their direction, and upon seeing Ron's expression of a curled lip in disgust, her face went as red as her hair and she stood up.

"Oh dear," Hermione said under her breath, Harry simply wanting to sink into the floor as Ginny marched over, her eyes narrowed into angry slits as she stared at Ron. Her brother didn't react at all, simply maintaining his look of anger.

"What's that look for?" Ginny snapped, her voice the same dangerous tone that Harry had heard come from Molly Weasley's mouth many, many times. Ron flinched slightly, the action barely noticeable.

"For going around and snogging everyone!" Ron said, almost hysterically. Harry shrunk lower in his seat, secretly enjoying watching the conflict, but desperately hoping he wasn't involved.

Ginny snorted. "You're just jealous!" At this point the girl looked close to tears. "Everyone in our year and yours is going out with someone, Hermione's snogged Victor Krum-"

Hermione's face went bright red, and she too, sank lower in her seat. Ron's gaze turned to her briefly, before returning to his hysterical sister.

"And Harry has all the girls stalking him," Ginny paused to draw in a breath. "But everyone knows he's got something going on with Malfoy!"

Harry froze up, feeling like he'd just walked through a ghost and someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water on his head. "That's not true," he said quickly, firmly. "We're just friends-"

Ginny let out a spiteful laugh, unaware that a few people were staring at them now. "Yeah, right," she said, a tear running down her cheek, one she quickly wiped away. "Because friends act how you two do. Right. I know for a fact that I don't sit that close to my friends, or blush like an idiot when they talk to me!" By now Ginny's words were sobbed. "And he's a Malfoy, for gods sakes! His father's an evil bastard, and so is he! Look at what he did to me in my first year, with that book that he slipped into my bag! They're all death eaters!"

Harry let out a growl of anger, standing up. "I would advise you not to insult him," Harry snarled, his voice dangerously low. "I don't care what happened to you, I don't give a damn. Don't you dare say anything about him."

"S-See? This is what I'm talking about," Ginny hiccuped. "You'll defend him, b-but you don't care about your friends? Who the hell are you?"

Hermione cringed at Ginny's choice of words, watching as Harry's face slowly turned red with rage. An angry vampire was never a good thing.

"Who am I?" Harry hissed. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because we're you're friends!"

"Friends?" Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Ha, right. My friends don't accuse me of stupid things, my friends don't start freaking out at me out of the blue." Harry imitated her voice in a high pitched, mocking fashion. "I know for a fact that my friends don't stare at me the way you do, I know my friends don't turn as red as you do whenever I happen to glance in your direction."

"Don't try to humiliate me!" Ginny snapped, although she did look rather guilty.

"You're doing a very good job of that by yourself, I don't need to do anything," Harry said mockingly. Ginny almost looked like she was about to slap him, before Hermione intervened.

"Calm down and stop arguing this instant," her voice was sharp and commanding, Ginny taking a deep breath, and Harry folding his arms over his chest. "You're both bickering like little children. You are on the same Quidditch team, and if you want to win tomorrow, we can't have this sort of quarrelling!"

"Fine," Harry said, picking up his bag. "I'm leaving."

And with that he stepped outside, into the frigid weather. The street was empty for the most part, so he walked down the road back to Hogwarts alone. The snow crunched underneath his shoes, and he sighed deeply, a cloud of air visible. It dissipated quickly, only seeming to remind the vampire of his nonexistent need to breathe.

Ginny was an idiot. What did she know, anyways? She didn't understand anything that was happening, she was ignorant, like everyone else. Pretending they knew how Harry felt. They didn't, they didn't have any kind of idea.

They already hated him for 'supposedly' being more than friends with Draco, what would the do if they found that the rumours were true?

No, they didn't get it. They didn't know what it was like to have to keep your love behind closed doors because of what everyone else thought. That made Harry despise and envy Ginny even more in that moment, purely because she was allowed to go out and snog boys in public.

It wasn't long before he was back in the castle, brushing the snow off his shoulders and waking through the corridors back to the dungeons.

Their common room was dead silent, but Harry could hear Draco's irregular heartbeat. He spotted the werewolf, curled up on the couch, fast asleep. He'd fallen asleep on what Harry could see was a book on transfiguration, a half finished essay sitting on the coffee table.

Harry smiled, feeling calmed by Draco's presence. He dumped his bag on an armchair and waved his wands, all the curtains closing and blocking any light from the room. With another wave of his wand, the candles and lanterns were lit, and his skin melted away to grey.

At the noise of the curtains shutting Draco mumbled something in his sleep, before slowly blinking his eyes open, jumping awake as Harry flopped down on the couch beside him.

"You look busy," Harry said with a grin.

"O-Oh, yeah," Draco replied, covering his mouth as he yawned. "Sorry. Just tired."

"Don't apologise, I'm exhausted too."

"You look upset, what's wrong?" Draco asked, tone becoming concerned as he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, the boy leaning on his shoulder.

"People pissing me off," Harry replied. "Ginny went off at me in the Three Broomsticks."

"I thought she liked you."

"She insulted you, so I insulted her, then I made fun of her. She looked like she wanted to murder me."

"You shouldn't go yelling at people in public if they insult me, no wonder people suspect things," Draco said, although a small smile was on his face.

"What was I supposed to do, sit there and let her call you a Death Eater?"

Draco shrugged. "What does she know about us, anyways? I don't care what anyone else says or thinks; I know how I feel, and that's all that matters to me. I love you, and no one can convince me otherwise."

Harry just grinned, shifting and cupping Draco's face. "This is why I'm marrying you," Harry whispered against his lips, Draco's usually pale complexion turning scarlet.

******

Harry strode out onto the Quidditch pitch, holding his broom and willing for time to go faster. He simply wanted to make this practice as quick as possible and go to bed. He was exhausted, but he refused to show it.

"Right," Harry started, avoiding Ginny's gaze. "Split into pairs, and we'll do some simple passing to warm up. There's extra quaffles over there," Harry gestured to a box he'd brought out, filled with spare and damaged quaffles.

People split up quickly, one pair becoming a three. Harry would pair up with whoever was left, and to his dismay, he saw that it was Ginny.

"Er," she started, looking shifty as she walked up to him. "I wanted to apologise, for earlier today. I shouldn't have said what I said, and accused you of things like that. I know you'd never do anything like that anyways, I don't know where it came from. I was having a rough day, Dean and I have been fighting, and then Ron came along and..." she trailed off. "Well, you get the picture."

"It's fine, really," Harry assured her. "Don't worry about it." If anything, the confirmation that things were fine made her brighten up a bit, but she still looked a bit annoyed, probably because Harry hadn't apologised for the things he had said.

Quidditch practice flew by, everyone sweaty and tired by the end of it. The sun was beginning to set now, and Harry was feeling very tired.

"Everyone did well today," Harry said loudly. "We should wipe the floor with Slytherin, they won't know what hit them!"

******

Draco had fallen asleep again by the time Harry got back, curled up on the couch. That's all he seemed to do anymore, sleep and sleep and sleep. He always seemed tired, yawning all day, permanently looking like he hadn't slept all year. Harry sighed, walking up the staircase to the bathroom and taking a shower. After pulling on some pyjamas he trotted back down the stairs.

Harry pulled Draco into his arms gently, surprised at how light he was. Draco had never weighed very much, it's what made him decent at the seeker position. Now he was lighter than Harry could ever remember him being.

Up close, Harry could really see how pale he was, in an unhealthy manner. His skin was sunken in, dark circles under his eyes. He looked drained of all energy and life.

Draco blinked open his eyes sleepily, moving to wrap his arms around Harry's neck and bury his face in the vampire's shoulder.

Harry walked up the staircase and pushed the door to Draco's room open, lying Draco down on his bed. The werewolf refused to move his arms from around Harry's neck, pulling Harry down with him, who simply grinned.

"So I'm staying here, then?" Harry asked, smiling.

"Yes," Draco mumbled, burying his face in Harry's chest, feeling comforted as Harry wrapped his own arms around him.

"I'm worried about you," Harry murmured after a few minutes, knowing Draco was still awake. "Is there something going on that you're not telling me?"

Draco considered himself lucky that his face was hidden in that moment, because if it wasn't he knew that he'd have given himself away with the look of shock and terror that crossed his face. Every inch of his mind and body was now screaming for him to obey and tell Harry all about his nightmares and the vanishing cabinet, but he knew he couldn't do that. If he did that, things would get even worse for him.

Draco shook his head slowly, actions extremely forced. He bit his tongue, not wanting to say a word.

"I trust you," Harry said quietly, running a hand through Draco's hair. "But if there's something going on, you know you can tell me, right?"

Draco's eyes filled with tears and he gritted his teeth, simply wanting to break down and tell Harry everything. Yet he stayed silent, nodding instead of speaking.

Harry sighed, but buried his face in Draco's hair. "We have the game tomorrow. You nervous?"

"A bit," Draco whispered. "If we lose they'll think I threw the game to let you win."

"You won't do that, though? It won't be any fun if you do."

"Of course I won't."

"Good. Because I'm not going to let you win easily, either," Harry said with a grin.

******

Harry awoke the next morning, tangled up in Draco sheets, the werewolf sleeping peacefully next to him. Harry yawned quietly, snuggling closer to Draco's warm body. Harry's eyes flickered over to the clock on the wall, seeing that they still had plenty of time before breakfast. The match began an hour after breakfast.

"Draco," Harry whispered playfully, running a hand through Draco's hair, tangling his fingers in it. "Wakey-wakey."

"Mmf," Draco replied tiredly, hiding his face in Harry's neck. "Don' wan' to."

"Well, you have to. There's a Quidditch game an hour after breakfast."

"But why?" Draco dragged out the last word, meeting Harry's gaze, eyes bleary.

"Because," Harry replied.

"I feel like I didn't sleep at all," Draco mumbled, sitting up, the duvet falling off him. "I'm still tired."

"You'll perk up," Harry replied, standing. "I'm going to get dressed. I'll be going down to breakfast with you, and I'll be watching. You'd better eat something for breakfast."

******

"I feel like I'm going to vomit," Ron whispered, staring at his plate which was still full of food, untouched, a rare occurrence for Ron.

"You don't have to be so nervous," Harry replied, leaning on his elbow. "It's really not that big of a deal."

"But what if I fail? What if I, I dunno, fall off my broom or something?" Ron said, looking horrified at the mere thought. "I'd be so embarrassed."

"You won't fall off your broom!" Hermione huffed. At this moment, a girl Harry vaguely recognised walked past, tapping Ron on the shoulder.

"Good luck today, Ron! I know you'll do amazing!" Harry frowned at her, recognising her to be Lavender Brown. Ron gave a small half smile, looking slightly freaked out but slightly pleased.

Hermione looked angry. Harry was confused. "She's been trying to talk to me for ages," Ron mumbled, nerves quickly returning.

Harry's eyes had now wandered over to the Slytherin table. Draco was sitting on his own, looking lost in his thoughts, eyes glazed over. He still looked rather awful; face sickly pale, looking horrifically tired. "Draco looks horrible. At least it means we have an advantage," Ron murmured, following Harry's gaze.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Harry replied. "He's more alert than he looks. Probably trying to make us underestimate him."

Ron simply groaned at this. "That doesn't make me feel better."

Harry sighed. Ron was going to lose them the game if he continued to fret and worry. He'd end up choking and overthinking himself; and probably would fall off his broom. He felt the small phial of Felix Felicis against his chest, he'd been keeping it around his neck for whenever he decided he needed it. A plan quickly formulated in his head, and he had to hide a smirk as he pulled the phial from around his neck.

Making sure Ron could see him, he tried to act as discreet as possible, pretending to pour some of the glittering golden liquid into Ron's drink.

"What did you just put in there?" Hermione hissed, a deep frown on her face.

"Nothing," Harry said, slipping the little golden phial into his pocket.

"That's against the rules! You can't use Felix Felicis-"

"I didn't," Harry said nonchalantly, although he shot a small grin at Ron, who was now looking more confident. In one swig, he downed the contents of the goblet. Hermione's jaw was nearly on the floor, but Harry pretended he had no idea what was going on.

He caught Draco's gaze, directing his eyes to the food on the table and then back at the werewolf, who, with a frown, seemed to get the message and began to eat weakly.

******

Harry was making haste to get to his Quidditch tent, broom in hand. He saw a player clad in green walking towards him, seeing it was Draco, a grin came across his face.

"Don't let me win easily," Harry said, poking Draco's chest, the werewolf grinning back at him.

"Never," a mischievous smile found it's way to Draco's lips. "Scared, Potter?"

"You wish."

******

"Everyone," Harry said, surveying his team in the Quidditch tent. The game was going to start in a few minutes, and everyone was excited, Ron now looking uncannily confident. "Do your best today. We've been training hard, and beating Slytherin shouldn't be too difficult."

They all lined up, mounting their brooms and anxiously waited for the door to open, signalling the beginning of the game. They flew open, and one by one, the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team sped out of the tent like bullets into the fresh air.

It hardly took any time for the two teams to get into position. Harry easily located the frost haired werewolf, who was circling above him, now doubt looking for the snitch. Despite not having played for the last two years, Draco would still be hard to beat. He shot upwards to Draco's height, now barely able to hear the cheers, seeing the game play on below him.

Harry frowned in confusion as he faked his eyes over Draco. The way in which he held his broom was... odd, to say the least. You were supposed to hold each side of the broom, your wand hand in front of the other, yet Draco wasn't. His wand hand was on top of the broom, fingers splayed out across it, other hand on the underside of the broom. Harry vaguely remembered Madam Hooch telling Draco that he'd been flying wrong for ages in their first year; it would seem that he'd never changed his position after all.

Out of sheer curiosity, Harry copied Draco, and found himself completely off balance. He had no idea how Draco managed to fly like this, but he looked perfectly balanced as he soared around the pitch, trying to find the flash of gold he and Harry were both seeking out.

The game was going in Gryffindor's favour so far. Ron had managed to save every quaffle that was sent his way, the Gryffindor crowd screaming with delight, Ron looking proud of himself. The other members of the team were doing well too, and it was currently 30-0.

Harry continued to fly around the pitch, Draco doing the same. Without any warning, Draco shot downwards into a dive. Harry's eyes widened and he flew after him, both leaning forward on their brooms.

Draco had seen the snitch first and was racing after it, quickly catching up to the glittering golden ball. He narrowly missed kicking some of the people in the stands as he weaved in between them, the snitch almost mocking him as it twisted and turned, dipped and dived.

Draco reached out one hand, he was so close to it. Harry was speeding along by his side, before the snitch abruptly decided to fly directly vertical into the sky. Harry and Draco followed, Harry pulling up his broom earlier and gaining the lead.

The wind whistled in Draco's ear, sweeping his hair back from his face as they skyrocketed upwards. He could hardly breathe, the wind speeding past him to quickly to allow him to draw air into his lungs. Harry leaned forward, his broom going as fast as it could.

A feeling of relief and triumph washed over the vampire as his hand closed around the little golden ball. He held it tightly, pulling to a halt. Draco did the same, accepting defeat with a sigh and a smile.

******

"You threw the game, Malfoy!" The captain of the Quidditch team yelled, the white haired boy flinching slightly. "We know you did, you and Potter are practically best friends now-"

"I didn't throw the game!" Draco snapped in reply, grabbing his broom and walking towards the exit to the tent. "And face it, you lot lost to Weasley, I was close to beating Potter."

The rest of the team looked stunned, but Draco simply left without another word. He waited for the stands to empty before finding Harry, who was still in the Gryffindor tent.

The vampire had his back turned to him, so Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him to his chest. "You played well today," Draco said quietly.

"So did you. I won't be back until later tonight, there's a party in the Gryffindor common room," Harry replied. "Also, I forgot to ask. Slughorn's having a party soon, and I'm invited. We're allowed to bring a guest, so do you want to go?"

"Sure," Draco said, kissing Harry's jawbone. "But you'd better stay away from Ginny and every other girl that stares at you this evening, or I swear-"

"I promise nothing will happen," Harry replied, turning in Draco's arms to face him. "You know I'd never betray you. I love you too much."

Draco blushed happily, smiling adoringly at his mate.

******

The music in the Gryffindor common room was loud, people cheering for their Quidditch team. Harry still felt rather fond of the place, not having been here in two years. Hermione was standing beside him, looking like she'd much rather have everyone shut up so she could read, but she looked happy nonetheless.

People had been congratulating him and Ron all evening on winning the game, and to be honest, Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to his dorm with Draco.

This want was further solidified as Lavender Brown came storming through the crowds. She grabbed Ron by the collar of his shirt and smashed their lips together, Ron looking shocked for a split second before kissing her back, the cheers growing louder.

Harry saw that Hermione had disappeared from his side, and saw her retreating form leaving the common room. Frowning, Harry followed her.

She was rather easy to track, and Harry quickly found her in one of their charms classrooms. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, crying quietly. Neither spoke, Harry moving to sit beside her, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned into his embrace, sobbing. "Ron's such an idiot," she whispered.

******

Draco felt like he was dying. He knew that soon he'd be using up the last of his magical reserves, and he'd be completely powerless and without magic for a few days at the least.

He'd managed to cast a few more spells on the cabinet, but now he was feeling like he'd rather die than continue.

His throat tickled and he started to cough, covering his mouth with his hand out of habit. His coughs wracked his frail frame, shaking him to the core, making his ribs hurt.

Shock and horror ran through him as he realised this time he had coughed something up. His hand was speckled with red, a metallic taste in his mouth and a scratchy feeling in his throat.