AN: hey guys! Just wanted to say thanks for all the support on this story! It really motivates me to keep working on it! Thanks bros!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Draco's head felt like it had a heartbeat. Every breath he drew in caused his head to pound more and more painfully, forcing him to close his eyes as his vision spun blearily. If anything, the pure dark red blackness behind his eyelids made it worse, making him focus more in the shooting pains through his head than his surroundings.

The werewolf hadn't been feeling well all day. Mostly because tonight was a full moon. The first full moon since he had been bitten.

Along with his feverish headache had come the unending cramps of nervousness and anxiety, knowing that by tonight this pain would seem like nothing at all.

Harry had gone to classes today, leaving the werewolf to groan in pain all day on the couch. Even though Harry had no idea what to do to help his friend, his concern had been touching and Draco wanted nothing more than the day tick by faster so he could see the vampire again.

Although, that's all he seemed to want to do these days anyways. Seeing Harry be wounded when fighting the dragon yesterday had really struck a chord in him. He wanted Harry, by his side, and to be there always.

Even seeing him leave today, just to go to classes nearly drove the werewolf half mad purely because of the fact that he couldn't go, and Harry couldn't stay. He'd almost felt like he was going to have a complete mental breakdown, or even throw a childlike tantrum, just to get the vampire to stay with him and give him his undivided attention for the whole day. It was almost unbelievable to the werewolf that he'd throw his own dignity off of the astronomy tower just to get the boy-who-lived, or well, died, to stay with him.

Draco knew that he shouldn't feel this way, but in no sense at all did it feel... Wrong, like it should have. He used to hate the boy, but now he wanted nothing more than to be with him always.

But for now he could do nothing but curl Harry's blanket that the vampire had given to him for the day closer, inhaling Harry's scent and willing himself to sleep.

******

Harry sat in the shade, his back pressed up against a tree, watching everyone around him carefully, even though his mind was elsewhere.

He'd woken up this morning to find Draco on the verge of collapse, saying something about a headache. Needless to say, he'd been worried, as Draco's first transformation was tonight.

And on top of that, he hadn't made any progress with the egg, either. He'd opened it, and received a loud, horrifically painful to listen to wailing, like the screeching of a cat being stepped on. Obviously, nothing had been deduced from this, except from a sever earache and Draco's speculation that he might have to fight a banshee.

Harry rolled his eyes as he caught sight of Hermione coming in his direction, and stood up, picking up his bag and starting to walk away. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her.

All through classes she'd been trying to get his attention, and he'd pretended not to notice, knowing what she'd want to talk about.

His magic. He'd noticed it too, he wasn't stupid, but he found himself not caring.

It was a rare ability, to be able to fire out pure, raw magic without a certain spell in mind. It was often found in moments of desperation, when the person's brain doesn't have enough time to form a spell. Combined with adrenalin, a wizards magic can become very overpowering and dangerous.

The fact that it had been blacker than his own hair had visibly shaken many people too. Black magic was often a symbol of evil, something that Professor Trelawny would love to rant on about for hours unending. He knew why it had caused terror throughout students and teachers alike.

People said that black magic was the epitome of evil. Not even Voldemort's magic was black... His was a pure green. People said that he wasn't evil enough, that he still had some form of good in him, somewhere, no matter how small. Not even the Dark Lord, who'd killed so many, not even his magic was black.

******

Hermione huffed in annoyance as she saw Harry get up and walk swiftly towards the castle, disappearing into its halls.

She was worried for the boy.

His appearance had become even more ghost-like than before. His skin was paler than snow, his black hair giving him a monochrome look. Not even his eyes were the same kind of bright, alert green that they used to be. They seemed duller, slightly darker even.

Not to mention he acted way differently. Gone was the happy, bright and friendly boy she used to know. This Harry hardly spoke, and when he did, it was usually in a harsh or snarling tone. He skulked around, spending a lot of his time in the library, his own common room, or pacing the halls of the dungeons.

It was unnerving how much Harry's gaze affected her, and clearly the girls around her. Every time his eyes merely flickered in her direction, her heart pounded, butterflies erupting in her stomach. There was just something so... Serene and beautiful about him, and his icy cold eyes were alluring in a way she'd never known.

Hermione was smart enough to know that this wasn't a crush. She'd known Harry for too long. This was something else entirely.

******

Draco immediately woke up as soon as he heard the sound of the portrait door opening, lifting his head to smile weakly at Harry. He returned the smile, before speaking.

"I've got ten minutes before the next class, so I thought I'd better come and check on you," Harry said, sitting beside Draco as he sat up. "How're you feeling?"

"Horrendous," Draco sighed, even though Harry's presence has lessened his headache significantly. "Made any more progress on the egg?" He asked, curling his legs underneath him and leaning on Harry's shoulder.

"No, not yet. I'll work on it some more this evening," Harry replied, subconsciously wrapping his arm around Draco's shoulders and threading his fingers through Draco's hair, earning a content sign from the pained werewolf.

Time eventually slipped away from the two, and Harry realised with disdain that he was ten minutes late for his double potions class.

"I want you to stay," Draco whined as Harry stood up.

"I'll be back soon, I promise," Harry said, giving the werewolf a comforting grin before leaving the room. Draco let out a dramatic, depressed whimper, pulling Harry's blanket over his head.

******

Harry dashed through the halls, using his vampiric speed, and he was thankful when he arrived at the potions classroom door without anyone spotting him. He took a few seconds to compose himself, before slipping into the room silently.

Everyone in the room was standing around a cauldron, fumes leaping from the pots of boiling potions. The students hardly noticed the shadowy figure slipping into the classroom, but the professor certainly did.

"A word, Mr Potter," Snape's gruff voice rang out. Harry groaned, feeling Hermione's eyes bore into the back of his head as he made his way over to the dark haired professor.

"Have you a reason why you're late?"

"Yes," Harry said, quietening his voice. "Draco hasn't been feeling well so I went to check on him at lunch. Time slipped away from me, Sir."

Snape nodded. "Fine. Tonight is a full moon, if I understand. Give him this," the professor said, pulling out a potion from robes. It was dark red in colour, and as Harry took it from Snape's hand he could feel the heat seemingly radiating from it. "It's Wolfsbane. Make sure he drinks it, watch him if you have to."

Harry nodded, slipping the potion into his pocket.

"Go and work with Granger for the remainder of the lesson."

Harry groaned again, but grudgingly made his way over to the brunette witch.

"Where have you been?"

"Here and there," Harry mumbled in response.

"That doesn't answer my question," Hermione huffed, chopping up some sort of plant and adding it to the currently blue liquid, Harry watching it turn purple as the pieces of plant were added.

"Do I have to answer the question?"

"We're worried about you, Harry!" She said, turning away from the cauldron to glare at the standoffish teen.

"Well there's nothing to be worried about!" Harry replied. "I'm fine!"

"Take a good look in a mirror and then tell me that you're fine!" Hermione snapped. "You look like crap, you won't speak to Ron or I, you don't come to meals-"

"Just drop it!" Harry snarled, finally starting to lose his temper.

"You're late to most classes, hardly anyone sees you around the castle and what the hell was that potion that Snape gave you?!"

"Hermione, shut up."

Hermione didn't want to stop talking. She wanted to yell at him, scream at him, and hit him over the head with her potions book until he told her what was going on. But with those cold, icy green eyes staring at her with a piercing gaze, her voice got lost in the throat.

She couldn't speak, and slowly started to lose the will to. What was the point? Harry never told anyone anything anyways.

******

Harry was the first person to leave the classroom when the bell went, Hermione hurrying after him. But when she came out into the long corridor, she found he was nowhere in sight.

******

Draco could only sigh in relief as Harry returned. His headache seemed to cease immediately, his vision becoming more bearable to use.

"Any better?" Harry asked, rummaging in his robes to find the potion that Snape had given him.

"A bit," Draco answered truthfully.

"Snape told me to give you this," Harry said, handing the potion to him. "Wolfsbane."

Draco wrinkled his nose at the dark red potion, frowning at it. He didn't want to drink it. Something in him purely just said 'no.'

"You have to drink it."

But Harry told him to. Harry told him to drink it, so he must. But he didn't want to, at the same time.

Draco's eye twitched, fighting an internal war. Half of him pulled towards Harry's words, telling him he should do as told and just down it. But the other half snarled angrily at the red liquid, telling him that drinking it would be a mistake.

But the need to follow Harry's words was stronger. Much stronger.

The liquid burned as it ran down his throat, making him gasp as it practically sizzled in his stomach. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but it was bearable.

Draco looked over to Harry, who was already buried in a book, flicking through the pages uselessly as he tried to figure out the next task. Draco curled into Harry's side and closed his eyes, comforted by the vampire's presence.

******

Darkness covered the grounds, the frosted grass crunching underneath Draco's feet as he walked. Shivers tingled up and down his spine as he got closer and closer to the Whomping Willow, the tree standing silently.

To be honest, he'd always been scared of that tree ever since second year, when tales of the Weasley's flying car getting crushed by it flew around the school. Not many had seen the tree move much, except for in winter when it shivered off the snow, or shook its leaves off violently in Autumn.

The tree didn't so much as move a branch as he stood before it, the white haired boy finally gathering up the courage to walk down the passage below the tree.

It was hidden in the roots, overgrown and unused. The staircase was dark and crumbling, Draco whispering Lumos under his breath. A small ball of light appeared in the centre of his palm. He fought back the urge to look behind him, terrified that someone might be following him.

This thought urged him on, making him walk faster, finally exiting the dark passageway into the Shrieking Shack.

Draco sighed, moving over to a window. It wouldn't be long until the moon rose above the trees of the Forbidden Forest, perhaps only a few minutes.

Reluctantly he pulled off his clothes, not wanting them to get shredded and ripped, wrapping his cloak around his shivering body as he waited.

He didn't have to wait long before the first rays of moonlight filtered through the window. As soon as the glowing, silvery beams of light touched his forearm, shivers wracked his body.

These were followed by convulsions, and he doubled over as pain ran through him.

It felt like pins were piercing every inch of his skin as fur sprouted through his flesh. He heard the agonising snap of every bone he owned, the sickening cracking as they shifted into new positions was nauseating. He felt his mouth practically rip open as razor sharp teeth grew through, his face elongating into a muzzle.

All the pain combined was too much, Draco collapsing to the floor as he screamed, his cry of torment turning into a demonic roar-like howl.

Lying on the floor of the shrieking shack was a wolf, whiter than snow. It was bigger than the average wolf, standing as tall as a thoroughbred horse.

It lay there, whining weakly, breathing raggedly. It's eyes were a stormy grey, filled with pain as it closed them, allowing its breathing to slow as it drifted off to sleep, the moonlight filtering through the window making its fur glow.

******

Harry awoke with a gasp, letting out a groan of pain as the scar on his forehead burned. All he could see was the darkness of his coffin, and he was thankful for it.

The pain was intense, sending sharp pains through his entire head. He lifted a hand to weakly press it against the scar, his own ice cold skin seeming to help somewhat.

He lay there for a few minutes as the pain slowly ceased, lifting the lid of his coffin to look blearily around his room before grabbing his glasses.

He frowned at the full length mirror that stood facing him, showing nothing but an empty coffin on its reflective surface. Harry felt somewhat... Offended by the object, wondering why it was still there if it had no use to him.

His eyes widened as he realised. Last night was the full moon. He remembered giving the terrified werewolf a hug before he'd left, not wanting to let go of his frosty haired friend.

Harry closed his eyes, listening intently. Draco was back. Harry could hear his heartbeat thudding slowly from his room. It sounded like he was asleep, or pretty close to being so.

He turned to the clock ticking away on his wall, realising he'd overslept. With a groan, he got out of his coffin and set about pulling on his clothes, only realising halfway through putting on his uniform that today was Saturday. No classes.

With a thankful grin, he pulled his pyjamas back on, and made his way into the living room.

Upon Draco's request, a small kitchen had been added to the room, off to one side. Harry no longer needed to eat meals, and therefore never attended them, so Draco didn't really want to have to struggle through forty-five minutes of his housemates hating him without Harry's face to focus on instead.

"Draco," Harry said, opening the werewolves bedroom door. Draco was curled up in bed, opening one eye to look sleepily at the vampire before burying his face in his pillow.

Harry smirked. "Good morning to you too."

Draco merely groaned, pulling the covers over his head. Harry rolled his eye and sat on the bed, pulling the covers away from Draco's face.

"It's Saturday," the Griffindor announced.

"I was aware," Draco replied, his voice husky from sleeping.

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade today? We're allowed to."

"Yes, sure. Just let me wake up first," Draco yawned. Harry nodded, turning to look quizzically at the bookshelf. Scanning it with his eyes, he pulled out a random book and lay on the other side of the bed, facing away from the werewolf as he started reading.

******

Harry walked beside Draco on the path to Hogsmeade, looking around at all the snow falling. He'd been so caught up in the first task and becoming a vampire he'd hardly had time to notice that Christmas was coming up.

Draco however, seemed to very much enjoy the snow, a small, playful smile on his face as snowflakes landed in his hair. They were almost invisible against his white locks, standing out as they littered Harry's hair though.

Draco couldn't help but admire Harry out of the corner of his eye. His skin was as white as the snow that fell around them, his green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. It made Draco a bit sad to see that Harry couldn't show who he really was. He couldn't reveal his beautifully Crimson eyes to anyone, anyone but Draco.

But he also felt privileged because of this fact. He'd been jealous of Harry all his life, from the moment of meeting him up the events of this year.

He remembered the first time he met the boy in Madame Malkin's. It was another boring day, the depressed teen forced to leave the solace of his room to venture into Diagon Alley virtually alone to buy his school supplies.

A raven haired boy had walked in, one Draco found himself immediately curious of. His glasses were crooked, his skin was pale, his hair black and wild. He seemed kind of... Lifeless, yet his eyes were the most shocking and piercing shade of green that Draco had ever seen. Green like emeralds, shining brilliantly.

It was like he'd been placed under a spell, utterly enchanted by the boy waiting nervously for Madame Malkin's assistance. Draco had tried to strike up a conversation, but he'd known he'd probably just offended the boy.

He didn't have any friends his age, or any at all to be honest. He didn't speak much at his home, and hence he had no idea what to say to this boy with the pretty face and stunning eyes.

He'd later found that he'd just made a fool of himself in front of Harry Potter, and had turned to hating the boy as his father did. He wanted his fathers approval, so utterly and desperately.

Yet that didn't make the words he'd yelled at his godfather any less relevant from before he was a werewolf. He couldn't hate the boy, and he hated him for it. It was odd, the way he constantly had wanted to be friends with Harry yet had hated him all the same.

He was jealous of the relationships he had. He had friends, true, reliable people who loved and cared for him. Draco got that from no one, not even his parents. He had admirers, people who looked up to him and viewed him as a hero. People just viewed the Malfoy clan as Death Eaters, and a family to be feared above all else.

All of this made Draco's current situation nearly surreal to him. He was friends with Harry Potter, the boy who'd haunted his thoughts since he was thirteen. He was Harry's best friend, and Harry was his.

******

Finally they came to Hogsmeade. People bustled around from shop to shop in the snow and talking to each other. Children ran, throwing snowballs at each other with excitement.

A few heads turned, mostly from other students as they passed. It was an odd thing indeed, to see a Slytherin and Griffindor walking together, as if best friends.

For a long time the houses had rivalled each other, for as long as anyone could remember. They were exact opposites, Griffindors being brave and righteous, and Slytherins being sly and devious.

Yet this didn't sway either of them as they walked into shop after shop, simply browsing.

Finally they walked along the foresty path, where the shrieking shack was in sight. The building was covered in snow, just like the frosty white that crunched under their feet.

"How was it?" Harry spoke up, looking at the building.

"Painful," Draco replied weakly. "I just slept though. Didn't feel like doing anything."

Harry nodded. "There's only a month until the next task... And I have no idea about this egg at all."

"Let's go back to the castle then. We'll work on it some more."