Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the plot, Dave Conrad, Jack Spencer, and the idea of an Accursed. And if I don't get the exact details right about the British laws and customs etc., it's because this is in my own mind. I live in College Station… not London.

SLASH WARNING!!! Turn back now if this is not your brand of vodka.

Summary: The Gryffindor Trio thought they would be together forever. But when two choose each other, what's the third wheel to do? He finds a secret love in an unexpected place, and when his family finds out, he must decide between those he has loved forever, and the one who he is loyal to, and can't live without. Prologue begins in 7th year, during the Christmas break. Real story picks up at 9 years post-Hogwarts.

Prologue-part 1

The dark-haired youth silently climbed the countless stone steps to the southernmost tower of the Hogwarts castle. He knew for a fact that it would be deserted, as half of the population thought it was haunted, and the other half, knew it for absolute certain. But Peeves and the other Hogwarts ghosts would leave him alone, if only for the influence of another person, coming soon. He sighed, and surveyed the dark landscape. The moon was full, but the hills and forest were dark. Werewolves could be heard howling in the distance, but it was not this that chilled the 7th year.

Green eyes glinted in the moonlight and his black winter cloak was wrapped tightly around him. His bangs fell into his eyes as the wind blew across the tops of the towers. Strangely enough, it was too cold even for the usual occupants of the Astronomy Tower. But it was not by choice that the youth was standing outside in the cold.

An equally silent figure stood behind the darker one, a study of light to the Gryffindor's dark colors. It was similarly cloaked, but blonde hair fluttered in the wind. "Potter," a deep tenor spoke.

Harry jumped, turning. "You scared me."

"I scare a great many people. Why should you be any different, servus?" the pale stranger replied, coming closer, to brush the other teen's hair from his emerald eyes.

"Because of who I am, and who we are to each other, dominus," Harry said, rubbing his hands together to prevent them from numbing in the cool night air.

"You would think so. But many things that are, are not to be," he said, walking to stand face to face with the other teen. "You are cold, Harry?" He took Harry's hand in his.

Harry desperately tried not to notice the fact that the other person's hand was ice cold. "It is nearly freezing up here," he replied, dodging the question.

The blonde placed both of their hands on Harry's chest above his heart. The heartbeat was strong and the blonde closed his eyes, losing himself in the percussive rhythm. "You know what I require, servus."

Harry nodded. It was why the other teen had called him to this tower every night since a fateful night in November. "I do, dominus."

The blonde opened his eyes, showing clearly silver irises and pupils; the transition was quick. Harry paused and thought how oddly beautiful the other looked in the moonlight.

He came closer, then grabbed Harry roughly by the left arm, and tipped the brunette's head to the left side. He bared his fangs and sank them deeply into Harry's jugular.

Harry gasped slightly, but neither cried out, nor struggled. After a few seconds, his knees buckled and the vampire grabbed him with his other hand, holding him upright. Harry's eyes closed, as the pain became less intense.

The vampire stopped, pulling away. His hold on the Gryffindor became softer, and shifted lower to his elbows. "Harry, are you alright? That was all for tonight," he asked gently.

Harry nodded weakly; his head was somewhere between swimming and pounding. "I… I need to sit," his voice rasped dryly.

The vampire nodded, lowering the willing victim to the stone floor, with his back to the walls. He sank beside Harry and took a cloth from his pocket, wiping his mouth with it. He refolded it and handed it to Harry, who pressed it to his still bleeding neck. "Is that better?"

Harry nodded tightly, and then looked up at the stars. "Orion is bright tonight."

"Merlin, Harry, you sound like a bloody centaur," the vampire muttered.

"I can only answer with two barbs. One, it is better to be a centaur than undead for eternity. And two, if anyone's bloody here, it's you. After all, this was your work," Harry retorted, taking the blood restorative potion from the blonde's hand. "At least you're starting to warm up. You were ice cold there for a bit."

"You know that I can never thank you enough for this, Harry," the vampire said sadly. His eyes were blue-gray again, and his teeth were back to human normal.

Harry drank the bitter liquid and winced, shivering at the taste. The vampire put his hand on Harry's left shoulder in support.

"I know. Just remember, dominus. I do this from the goodness of my own bone marrow," Harry replied. "Always have." Left unspoken were the words, 'always will.'

"Did you want to head back to the tower already?" the vampire asked gently.

"Not until this stops bleeding and my head has cleared up a bit more. Wouldn't do well to have to explain why I knocked myself unconscious tripping over something in the common room because I can't walk straight," Harry replied. "Is that okay with you?"

"Of course," his companion replied, pulling Harry's cloak tightly around the shivering Gryffindor. He could have lifted Harry and carried him back, but that made the human a bit uncomfortable. Harry knew that he was light enough, even a human could do that easily. It made him an excellent Seeker, but lead to people believing he was too small, even at 17. The vampire smiled and moved closer, sharing what little warmth his body had with Harry. "The stars are bright tonight," he said, looking up, knowing what reaction he would get.

He was not disappointed. "Now who's the centaur?" Harry asked wryly.

--00--

It was almost 4 am by the time that Harry made it back to his bed in Gryffindor tower. He was drained from almost a month of potions and bites, but he knew that the other needed him. Harry grabbed a turtleneck shirt from the place where he kept it under his pillow and changed out of his linen pajama top, into the soft black fabric. Grasping his wand, he muttered a quick healing spell. He ran his fingers over the bite, finding it tender, but the skin was unbroken. It would bruise, but that was a matter for the morning.

He pulled the curtains closed, checking to make sure there was no blood on the pajama top he had worn earlier, before stuffing it under the foot of his bed. The soft pillow and warm duvet erased all thoughts of the southern tower, and Harry fell asleep cradled in the familiar surroundings of his room.

--00--

He was woken at 9 am by Ron, who was making noise in his own trunk, perhaps looking for his chess set. It was the only thing that Ron kept in the bottom of his trunk, and was therefore the noisiest to remove.

"Ron, could you bloody well knock that off?" Harry asked groggily, pushing back his curtains to look at his redheaded friend. "I was trying to sleep."

"Harry, you went to bed before I did. How are you still tired?" he asked, turning to look at his friend, then frowning. "Are you feeling okay?"

"It was a long night," Harry muttered, nearly falling as he got out of bed, due to his general clumsiness. He waved Ron off, before going to his trunk and pulling his shower things out of the top. His razor, shampoo, soap, and washcloth had lay perfectly arranged, next to his toothbrush and toothpaste. How he managed to keep everything clean in a room like this, he never figured out. He also grabbed his towel and robe.

He stumbled to the lavatory and laughed weakly at what Ron had been frowning at. A very tired 17-year-old stared back at him. Bags lay under his verdant eyes, his hair was a tangled mess and his skin was almost white. Not that he ever had a tan to begin with, but it meant that the potion hadn't kicked in to full potency yet. He locked the door, then lifted the turtleneck over his head and groaned quietly.

Although the bite could indeed be taken for a simple bruise or, god forbid, a hickey, the two bruises on his arms were shaped like the vampire's hands. There was no way they would be mistaken for anything else. He sighed and turned on the shower, undressing the rest of the way quickly. Moments later, Harry rubbed the dried blood from his neck and brought the soap to his upper arms, wincing on contact with the bruises. He really needed to find the spell to get rid of those. Maybe the vampire would know.

After a few minutes, Harry stepped out and slipped into his bathrobe, laying his towel on his shoulders as he unlocked the door to see if anyone was in the dorm anymore. Both Seamus and Dean had gone home for Christmas, but Dean lived in the Head Boy's suite, so he wouldn't have been there anyways. Neville must be downstairs, perhaps with Ron, as neither of them were in the room. Harry sighed in relief. He grabbed the turtleneck again and dressed in that, a pair of blue jeans, and running shoes before picking up a comb and attacking his legendary (or infamous) hair.

After he was convinced that he looked more or less presentable, he walked down the stairs to the Common Room with a book in hand. In his old age, he was turning into Hermione, even though he would vehemently deny it if confronted.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione said. "Sleep well?"

"Not really. He was tossing and turning all night," Ron said, from the chessboard where he sat with Neville, obviously winning the match.

"Thanks, Ron. I don't think everyone worries about me enough," Harry muttered, flopping on the couch in front of the fireplace and grabbing a blanket from the arm of the couch. He opened the book where the black ribbon marked his place and began to read.

Hermione got up from the chair where she sat and walked behind him. She leaned over, trying to read the yellowed pages, but had no luck. "Harry?" she asked, gently touching him on his arm to get his attention.

She unknowingly touched his bruises and he flinched. "What?"

"Sorry. What are you reading? I don't understand it," she said, noting his sore arm.

The first thought to enter Harry's mind was that she shouldn't be reading this book. The second was to ask why she couldn't. Instead, he went with thought number three. "Oh. This book is one that someone or another took out of the Restricted Section. I found it and thought that I would return it when Madame Pince got back from holidays," he said, trying to bluff. He covered the pages with his lower arm.

"What language is it in?" she asked.

"That's what you meant?"

"Yes. What language?"

Thinking quickly, he grabbed the green crystal pendant around his neck in a show of nervousness. "I don't know. But it looks like English to me. I don't understand. Maybe it's some weird form of Parseltongue." Great idea, Potter, way to make her less suspicious.

"But if it's…"

"I'm going to go see if I can talk the elves into a cup of coffee. Be back in a bit," Harry said, trying to avoid answering the inevitable question of 'if it's in Parseltongue, who would check it out but you?'

Ron caught his arm as Harry passed. "What do you think about this mess Nev's got himself into now?"

Harry tried not to wince too much as he removed Ron's hand from his arm. "Looks okay to me, but chess was never my strong suit."

"Harry, are you sure you're okay? What did you do to your arm?" Ron asked.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Harry, have you seen Pomfrey about it?" Hermione asked.

Harry glared at both in turn and replied with acid in his voice. "First off, there's nothing wrong with me or my arm. And second, if you don't recall, last school year and all except the last part of the summer, I spent nearly 4 months in the Hospital Wing, after my stay in St. Mungo's trying to recover from my battle with Voldemort. So I'm not in an awful hurry to put myself back in that place. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong," he said.

Ron grabbed Harry's arm again and squeezed. He watched as Harry bit his lip and his eyes began to water in pain. "You're fine? Could have fooled me. You've been getting paler for a month now, and you're certain that nothing is wrong? Trust us, Harry, we keep an eye on you from time to time, and you are not okay."

Harry knocked Ron's arm away with such a swift movement, it shocked the other three Gryffindors. "Leave me the hell alone, Ron," he said in such a dangerously low voice that it forced Neville to cower. "I just want to be left alone."

--00--

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