A/N: THIS STORY HAS BEEN RE-WRITTEN. STUFF IS DIFFERENT. THANKS.

hey guys! So it's Drarry, which is bxb, so if you don't like please don't read. This is set during the holidays of the third year, so Harry and Draco are going into fourth year. I made them both fifteen, not sure if this is the age for fourth year but I thought it'd be more appropriate, then having them like fourteen or thirteen XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Harry Potter lay on the cold stone floor of the Malfoy Manor dungeon, feeling faint and in immense pain. Convulsions ripped through his body and his head was pounding.

Darkness surrounded him from every direction, the only sound to be heard was Harry's harsh breathing. he gently lifted his head off the floor, to instantly regretted it as pain ripped through his neck. Damn it. What the hell happened?! All he remembered was taking a walk down the road of Privet Drive, when someone knocked him out the muggle way with a scented cloth.

Harry was thrown out of his flashback as screams ripped through the air, and the roar of some kind of beast echoed.

Harry sat up immediately. He recognised that voice, he recognised those screams. Then there was a lot of yelling. Harry could manage to single out the voices of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange yelling about throwing "him" in the dungeon.

Harry had a pretty good idea of who "him" was, and he found he was right. The metal barred door unlocked with a creak, and a boy was tossed carelessly onto the floor. The door slammed shut with a clang. Mustering up all his strength, he crawled towards the figure. Well, his hunch had been right.

Silvery hair, handsome face, stormy grey eyes, and a load of blood. It was Draco Malfoy, with a huge bite mark in his chest.

"Oh my god Malfoy... What happened?" Harry asked weakly, his instincts of caring about others too much kicking in as he surveyed the bite mark. Right now it didn't matter that Draco was his enemy, he could potentially die right now.

"Fenrir Greyback..." Draco croaked. Harry paused for a moment, realising who exactly he was going to be helping. Draco Malfoy, the boy who called Hermione a mud blood, who called Ron poor, who made fun of his deceased parents and had tormented him since his first year of school.

But the Malfoy obviously knew this house. He'd know all the corridors, the secret passageways... And maybe a way out of this place. Maybe there was some way that he could escape. But there was no telling that Malfoy would actually help.

"Malfoy, this is going to hurt, but I need you to be quiet okay?" Harry asked, gritting his teeth as he pulled off his shirt and began shredding it into pieces of cloth, shivering at the cold air. Harry tied his shredded shirt around Draco's chest, the boy letting out weak whimpers of pain. He tied the last strip of cloth around his neck.

"We need to get out of here" Harry murmured, letting out a hiss of pain as he stood up. "Do you know a way out?" Harry asked, preparing for Malfoy to tell him something along the lines of I'll-never-help-you,-Potter.

"Why would I help you?" Draco muttered weakly, leaning on a pillar to help pull himself to his feet.

Harry glared defiantly, his vision spinning slightly as blood continued to drip down his chest from his neck.

"Because," Harry said, trying not to slur his words. "I just helped you. You owe me."

"I don't owe you anything, Potter. And just because you have the stupid instinct to help others doesn't mean I do," Draco snarled.

Harry opened his mouth to retort angrily, but paused as he heard voices yelling upstairs.

"Shit, Fenrir, what the hell was that for?!"

"Couldn't help myself. I haven't eaten today."

"That doesn't change what you did!"

"Bella, there's no point in arguing. What's done is done, and as far as I'm concerned, he's useless as an heir now. The dark lord can have him."

Harry's eyes widened as he heard Lucius Malfoy's last sentence. He turned to Draco.

The blond's eyes were wide, his face drained of colour. Pain and hurt was flickering in his stormy grey eyes, and Harry could swear that he saw tears in his eyes.

And suddenly, Draco began muttering something under his breath as he strode quickly to a spot in the darkness.

Harry followed, not knowing what else to do, and he stopped dead as he saw Malfoy kneeling on the floor, knocking on different tiles and listening carefully.

"What on earth are you do-" Harry started.

"Shut up!" Draco hissed. Harry glared, but did as he was told. Soon, it seemed Draco had found what he was looking for as when he knocked on a certain tile, the noise it made didn't sound like the others.

"Okay what the bloody hell are you doing?"

"I never imagined someone who has escaped the dark lord so many times to be so incredibly dull and unintelligent, you're bordering on being a Weasley, Potter," Draco sneered, pulling a thin-banded silver ring from his finger.

Harry glared. "Don't insult my friends, Malfoy, or you'll regret it."

Draco simply rolled his eyes, and using all the strength he could, he hurled the ring at the stone floor, snapping it and beginning to bend the metal till it was straight. Harry was still looking utterly confused, so Draco decided to explain.

"Well, I don't want to die a horribly painful death or live a life of servitude, so I'm getting out. In case you didn't notice, this is a hollow tile," Draco spoke slowly and sarcastically, as if he was talking to a five year old. "Which means, there's a tunnel underneath it!"

"A tunnel?"

"This place is full of them," Draco stated, pushing the metal down one side of the tile and pressing down on it, levering the tile upwards, and Draco pushed it away.

Sure enough, there was a tunnel underneath it. It was pitch black, but that didn't stop the Malfoy from dropping into the darkness.

"Do you want to die, Potter, or are you coming?!" Draco growled. Harry sighed, and biting his lip, he dropped down as well, landing with a crunch on the dirt below.

He could vaguely make out Draco's silhouette in front of him, and began following as Draco walked.

He seemed to know exactly where he was going. Left, right, right, left, left and right again. At some points Harry heard voices from above, and tried to be as quiet as possible. Draco slipped through the tunnel silently, knowing exactly where to step, whereas Harry was tripping over rocks and stumbling nearly every minute, much to Draco's disdain.

Finally, the tunnel ended and Draco picked up the pace and ran hurriedly up the crumbling steps and out into the night air, Harry close behind.

Both of the boys were shirtless, shivering, and complete wrecks.

Harry's skin had turned an unnatural shade of extremely light grey, almost like his skin was made of stone. His eyes has turned a vicious blood red, and his hair was wild and frenzied. The blood from the two pinprick wounds on his neck had flowed down his neck, shoulder and chest and had dried. The faded pair of blue jeans he wore had been torn open at the knees.

Draco wasn't much better off. He was pale from blood loss, his own shirt having been shredded by Fenrir's teeth. Blood coated the entire right side of his chest, Harry's once blue shirt stained a deep crimson with the Malfoy's blood. His silvery hair looked different than usual, as like Harry's it was crazy and sticking in all directions, not like the usual neat style Harry was used to. The black jeans he was wearing had been ripped at the knees too.

"What now?" Harry said, jogging after Draco as the blond walked swiftly towards an area of tall trees not far from the manor.

"What do you mean, what now? How the hell am I supposed to know?!" Draco whirled around, his voice filled with anger, frustration and stress. "I've just been disowned, turned into a monster and left for dead!"

"Well," Harry shot back. "In case you haven't noticed," Harry held up a pale grey skinned hand. "I'm not much better off!"

"And is that my problem? Do you think I actually care?!" Draco turned, walking back towards the trees.

Harry sighed. "Where are you going, then?"

"As far away from the manor as I can get."

******

Twigs snapped under Harry's feet as he followed the blond werewolf through the woods, his mind running at full speed.

He could see everything as if it was daytime. He could hear everything, and could even sense the owl sitting in the tree overhead. He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there.

Draco was feeling very similar. He could see extremely well in the pitch blackness, but his vision was slightly hazy from blood loss. He could smell everything too. A deer had passed through not long ago, there was an owl in that tree. But the one scent that kept on coming back was the one of the vampire following him. It was something along the lines of vanilla.

Why did Potter help me? Bloody selfless Griffindor... And now he's following me. Why? Why can't he just leave me alone?!

Yet the Malfoy refused to state his thoughts, instead keeping them to himself and carrying on walking.

After another ten minutes, the two found themselves at a river, flowing like molten crystalline diamonds. A bit away was the biggest tree that Harry had ever seen in his life. It was so tall it seemed to never end, but the thing that interested Harry the most were the way the roots had grown. They, like the tree itself, were huge and curled around, forming a sort of cave in the tree roots.

Shivering even more at the cold water, Harry began to wash the dried blood off his skin. Draco didn't bother, and instead walked over to the large tree, and collapsed in the space made by the roots.

Harry joined him not too much later. The two of them could easily fit in the space.

Still shivering badly, Harry cast a worried glance at the silver haired blond. His eyes were shut and his breathing laboured, it seemed to be a huge effort to simply draw in air. His lips had turned a faint purplish blue, Harry could clearly see that he was freezing.

Harry had been used to the cold for a while, and had grown much more resistant towards it. The cupboard under the stairs had no heating at all, and being the terrified young boy he was, he never used the spider-infested blankets. In top of that, Dudley's hand-me-down clothes were always too big and baggy, not very warm at all.

Yet Harry didn't doubt that Draco probably had heating where he lived, and warm clothes. The blood loss was probably making him feel woozy too.

If he doesn't get help soon, he'll die... Do I let him fall asleep? What if he doesn't wake up? He can't continue like this...

"Malfoy, do you know where we are?" Harry asked, hoping to get a response.

"About... Three kilometres... From the manor," Draco managed to speak weakly.

"Where's the nearest town? We need to get to Hogwarts and Dumbledore as fast as possible. We aren't safe, Voldemort can't be too far."

Draco flinched at the name, and tilted his head back to lean it on the word behind him.

"I-I think there's one south of here... I can do wandless... magic... I'll accio some... Money..." Draco murmured, looking sleepy.

"Don't fall asleep!"

"Why?" Draco groaned in response, trying to keep his eyes from shutting.

"You've lost too much blood, you might not wake up again. Come on, we need to go. Can you walk?"

Despite knowing that he probably couldn't, the resilient blond nodded, and as soon as they left the tree-cave, he noticed something was definitely wrong. His legs felt like jelly and couldn't support his weight, so he immediately fell forward, heaving and coughing blood on the forest floor.

Much to Draco's utter dismay and pride (not that he could do much to complain anyways), Harry lifted him bridal style, surprised that the Malfoy weighed pretty much nothing.

As Harry walked, the only thing Draco could concentrate on was keeping his eyes open.

Don't fall asleep. Don't fall asleep. Don't. Don't. Don't. Sleep later. Or sometime. I don't know. Sleep when we get to Hogwarts... That's a while away. Harry's skin is cold. Weird. Like a dead person. Well, he is technically dead. But it's not cold in a bad way... I don't know.