A/N: wow! This story already has 37 reads? Jesus guys, thanks so much!!! I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while. I've been caught up with Christmas XD guess who got Newt Scamander's replica of his wand, scarf and suitcase for Christmas this year? ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Night had fallen, and Draco was dozing peacefully on Harry's bed, eyes half closed.

The storm had long since faded, the vampire who caused it now sitting at his desk, quill in hand. He was writing to his godfather about the dementor attack. Harry was extremely confused about the dementors, as to why they were out of Azkaban in the first place.

The house was empty apart from the two teens. Harry's aunt and uncle had whisked Dudley off to the hospital after he still remained unresponsive. Harry didn't feel guilty in any way at all, the pig got what was coming to him.

Draco was on the verge of slipping into peaceful unconsciousness, when the sound of a door closing was heard. Immediately alarm bells rung in his head, the urge of protecting Harry from whoever this intruder was forcing him to his feet, alert as ever.

Harry had heard it too, and had gotten up, fangs forming in his mouth. Draco was growling under his breath as the sound of voices got closer, now apparent that it wasn't one intruder, but many. Draco counted at least six voices, possibly more.

The voices got closer, and the doorknob began to turn. Draco narrowed his eyes, preparing to pounce and rip whoever was on the other side of that door to shreds.

Finally the door burst open, and the light of several wands filled the room. Harry calmed immediately, seeing Mad-Eye Moody standing there, several other people behind him.

"What the hell?" Harry asked, wondering why a bunch of wizards, including a crazy auror had broken into his home.

"Sorry about that, Potter. We figured the muggles weren't here-" Mad-Eye started, his voice gruff, the apology obviously not meaning anything to him at all.

"You could've just knocked!" Harry replied, almost hysterical.

A woman poked her head over Mad-Eye's shoulder, staring curiously at the werewolf who was watching everything unfold with mild curiosity and confusion. She frowned, recognising him.

"What's a Malfoy doing here?"

Draco froze up slightly, pain stabbing at his chest at the mention of his last name.

"He's a friend," Harry replied. "I could ask you lot the same thing, what are you doing here?"

"We've come to take you away."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"We're taking you to a different house," the woman piped up. "It's too dangerous here, especially after the dementor attack."

"How do you know about that?"

"The ministry was alerted as soon as your wand used the Patronus charm," a man spoke. His skin was dark, and he looked like he was dressed in ministry robes. Harry frowned, suspicious immediately. "Underage magic and all. You've got a hearing in the ministry in a few days."

"Great," Harry mumbled under his breath. The fact that everyone was calling him crazy all over the wizard media probably wouldn't help his case in any ministry hearing.

"Pack your stuff, we have to leave before dawn," Mad-Eye said.

Harry's eyes flickered over to Draco, who was standing awkwardly, eyes still narrowed in the woman who'd mentioned his last name's direction. "I'm not leaving without him."

Draco looked over to Harry at this, a slightly grateful look on his face, yet at the same time his eyes were unreadable.

"I don't think that's a good idea," the woman spoke again. "He's a Malfoy, we can't trust him-"

"I trust him with my life," Harry cut her off, his eyes narrowing. "And I'm not leaving without him. It's either we both go, or no one does."

Mad-Eye's one working eye narrowed, the other flailing around if possible, more spastically than usual. "We've got a situation on our hands, Potter. We don't have time for you to be stubborn."

"Well then let Draco come too."

Mad-Eye seemed to scrutinise the blond for a moment, before heaving a rather angry sigh. "Fine. Hurry up and pack, and get your brooms ready."

The pile of wizards made their way back down the stairs, leaving Harry and Draco standing in silence.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Draco murmured, looking towards the floor.

"It'll be fine," Harry replied, moving to find his trunk.

"Have you forgotten who I am?!" Draco hissed. "Everyone hates me."

"I don't hate you," Harry said, smiling. "And besides, anyone who wants to get to you will have to get through me first. Now stop being silly and accio your stuff here."

Draco sighed in resignation, murmuring the spell under his breath. In a few seconds his Nimbus 2001 was in his hand. He'd accio his other stuff to wherever they were staying.

Harry had finished haphazardly chucking random things into his trunk, and was busy trying to suppress a yawn as he grabbed his Firebolt. With Draco following behind, the two walked down the stairs. The Wizards were obviously waiting for them, all with brooms in hand.

Draco dared not look at the other wizards, knowing he'd just receive suspicious glares. He didn't blame them, but at the same time it was hurtful. He'd never been on his parents side in this fight in the first place.

It had been a while since Draco had last flown on a broom, and he had to admit, he missed it. He missed the wind flying through his hair, the feeling of freedom.

Harry was grinning like an idiot too, catching Draco's gaze occasionally.

******

The group landed in front of a set of houses. Each looked like the average, everyday home, televisions on in windows and a flew lights still on. Harry frowned.

"Where exactly are we?"

"Number 12, Grimmauld Place," the woman, who Harry now knew to be Nymphadora Tonks, replied.

Harry scanned the house numbers quickly. 10, 11, 13...

Harry opened his mouth to speak, confused, when Mad-Eye raised his wand. Harry's voice cut in his throat as he watched.

A loud series of cracks and bangs rang out as the 11th and 13th houses shifted sideways. The muggles sitting or sleeping in the houses obviously didn't notice the ruckus that was being caused, and Harry could only stare in shock at the house that was seemingly hidden in between the two other houses.

It was different from all the others on the street. It looked older, and darker, it's colour scheme more of blacks and greys. It somewhat resembled a haunted mansion that you'd find in a carnival. An air of sadness and cold hung around the building.

Draco took a breath of the air, and immediately his stomach plummeted. His mind was screaming at him as he took a step backwards, almost cowering. He shouldn't be here. He didn't want to be here. He wasn't allowed to be here, this wasn't his territory. He was invading.

Yet the group walked into the house, Draco following reluctantly, trembling out of fear.

Immediately his senses were bombarded as soon as he walked in the door.

There was over twenty people here, some scents he recognised, and others he didn't. But the one that worried him most of all was that of the person now watching him at the end of the hallway.

Remus Lupin was leaning against the wall, staring intently at the boy who he now knew to be one of his own kind. Draco stared back, Remus immediately sensing the air of submission. This other wolf didn't want to fight him, he looked absolutely terrified.

Remus diverted his gaze for a second, before locking eyes with Draco again. The younger werewolf visibly sighed in relief, now feeling a bit more at ease. Remus would allow him to stay here for now, he wasn't in any danger.

Harry however, was preoccupied by Molly Weasley, who was fussing over him.

"My gosh, dear!" She whispered. "You look starved! You're so pale, and you look exhausted. Well get some food in you, and then you can have a long nights rest."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Mrs Weasley."

She smiled widely in reply, before her eyes caught sight of the taller not standing close to Harry and her smile fell.

Harry saw, and spoke up. "Don't worry, he's a friend. I trust him."

Mrs Weasley seemed to scrutinise Draco for a moment, before nodding and breaking out into another smile. "You're rather skinny too, aren you dear?"

Draco seemed to snap out of what trance he'd previously been in, to stare unsure at the jolly read head.

"I-Er-" Draco tried to speak, unsure how to reply.

Mrs Weasley just smiled. "Not to worry! Dinner's almost ready. There's plenty to go around."

"O-Oh. Thank you," Draco smiled as best as he could manage, still overwhelmed by the other werewolf in the room and the now almost motherly affection being thrown his way.

Harry looked past Mrs Weasley, catching sight of Sirius, now standing beside Remus and conversing quietly with the werewolf.

Sirius locked gazes with Harry, and both of them shared a happy grin, before Harry dashed towards him and hugged him, happy to simply be in his godfather's presence.

And that left Draco still standing awkwardly, still feeling like he didn't quite belong here. That feeling was worsened as soon as a loud voice rang out across the hall.

"What's he doing here?!"

And then all hell broke loose. A painting on the wall started abruptly screaming, screeching about intruders as a sheet came loose. The painting was of a woman, but was quickly covered up as Sirius darted over and threw the sheet back over the picture. He pounded on the painting with his fist several times, yelling at the woman to shut up.

The voice that had woken the painting belonged to none other than Ron Weasley, who was standing on a staircase and glaring daggers at the blond. Draco simply sighed, resisting the urge to reply with the depressed "I don't even know" that was trying to fight its way past his lips.

"Why is everybody yelling?!" A man's voice screeched, a man that Draco recognised to be Professor Redmayne sticking his head out of a room and glaring at everyone. He looked worse than when Draco had last seen him, his hair messy and wild, his face gaunt and his eyes rather lifeless. "I'm trying to work!"

"Sorry, Newt," Sirius replied, not bothering to look at the man as he sent a death glare towards Ron, having finally gotten the hysterical portrait to stop screaming like a rouge banshee.

Professor Redmayne, or Newt, or whoever he was, simply rolled his eyes before slamming the door again, setting the portrait off into another series of wails.

******

Draco sat at the huge dinner table, feeling horribly uncomfortable.

There were many people, some of which he recognised, some of which he didn't.

Sirius Black, his second cousin. He'd spoken with the man once since they'd been here, and thankfully, after Harry had mentioned him in his letters, Sirius didn't hate him. The same couldn't be said for everyone else, sadly.

He had yet to speak to Remus, and was reluctant to do so. Only shared glances were often exchanged.

Fred, and George Weasley seemed to be okay with his presence, acting civilly towards him. They had even engaged conversation with him once or twice throughout the the dinner.

Arthur Weasley, too, had spoken to him a few times, Draco thankful that the man appeared to feel slightly sorry for his situation in a house full of people who were at his throat.

Molly was already treating him like her new son, fussing over him in the way a mother would, something that Draco had never had before. It shocked him and scared him at the same time, yet filled him with an indescribable happiness.

The mystery man, who Sirius had previously called Newt, merely stared at his plate, picking at his food. If Draco had ever seen a depressed man, he was certainly one. Draco didn't miss the concerned and sad glances sent in his direction every now and then by the other people at the table.

The only ones that were seeming to cause any problem at all were Ron and Hermione. Well, it was more Ron, as all Hermione did was shoot him the odd glance.

Ron was constantly glaring in Draco's direction, despite Harry's many warnings to leave Draco alone.

Draco gulped, deciding to divert his attention from the table full of people he hardly to knew someone he did know.

Harry was picking miserably at his food, looking like he was about to retch. Draco inwardly winced, feeling bad for his friend.

Harry could still eat food, it just tasted disgusting, like ash. The only thing his vampire body was able to digest was blood, so every mouthful of food that Harry managed to swallow he knew he'd be purging from his stomach later.

Finally, after having to suppress his gagging for over an hour, Harry stood up.

Mrs Weasley was quick to give him directions to the bathroom, and the vampire left, trying not to empty his stomach as he searched for the bathroom.

Draco, now completely unnerved by the loss of the only familiar person at the table, muttered something about being tired, and left the room as well.

He walked up the stairs, trying to ignore the portraits who whispered at him as he passed. He finally reached the room that Molly had shown him was his own.

It was rather spacious, yet at the same time comfortable and cosy. All he cared about was the fact that there was a large bed against one of the walls, and he collapsed onto it immediately, exhausted. It had been a long day.