Chapter 1: Chapter 1

A/N Harry is 17, this is an AU (alternate universe) were he didn't do the thing's leading to Voldemort's demise (the second time).AKA he still attends Hog warts. OOC- ness. I just can't seem to capture Sebastian's personality.

Harry

Harry sighed deeply. Today he had done something he's both immensely proud and slightly regretful of.

Dudley was being a sloppy pig, gulping down some chocolate ice cream greedily, and Uncle Vernon was draped across the couch watching the brand new flat screened television, occasionally screaming profundities at it. Petunia was multitasking at the kitchen table, painting her nails and talking on the phone about how beautiful and expensive her new red high heel shoes that she'd probably never use. So basically, a normal day.

Even the usual hunger pains were present for Harry, but today just seemed worse. The hunger was restless, gnawing, and feeling particularly brave, he decided to sneak some food for himself when nobody was looking, just a small sliver of bacon, nicked from Dudley's sandwich he had just prepared.

This is where shit hit the fan. Vernon turned around, red faced from the screaming, ready to demand something cold and icy from Harry. The succulent piece of bacon was being bitten into and Vernon was not pleased. He stomped over to Harry.

"HOW DARE YOU," he screeched "AFTER ALL WE'VE DONE FOR YOU, YOU LITTLE FREAK! YOU UNGRATEFUL FILTHY WORM! YOUR THE SCUM BENEATH M-" at that point, Vernon had grabbed the back of his shirt. A suitcase was shoved together quickly, and he was harshly booted out the plain door before he could process what had happened.

'Well great,' thought Harry, 'Now I'm homeless, and there's only one thing for it.'

And this brings us to the present, with one slightly intoxicated Harry James Potter, sitting in a very shady and questionable muggle bar, drinking something that questionably smelt like vodka. It was just an ordinary bar, with ordinary people, that sold regular old alcoholic drinks and, yet, Harry would forever remember it as one of the single most eventful, and important, nights of his entire life.
For who was to walk in, but an attractive man with sleeked black hair and demonic red eyes. All heads followed his graceful movements shamelessly, all but those of Harry, who just sat on the bar stool staring at a wall feeling depressed and tipsy.

Sebastian

I prowled the streets, combing it for any unfortunate victims whose soul I could take. Usually I would only settle for the finest of souls, but there was a smell lingering in the air that just made me hungry.

I followed the sweet scent. It was like nothing I'd ever smelt before, even in all my many centuries of living.

There was only one thing that would smell this arousing to a demon.

A potential mate.

Interesting.

After all this time, why does a suitable mate suddenly appear now? The fresh trail led to a distasteful, shabby bar.

Heads turned when I walked in, and some people winked at me. A whole group of humans, who were as bold as they got. I smirked, and approached the owner of the intoxicating scent, a boy in his late teens with black hair and striking emerald eyes, nursing a cup of vodka.

Sitting down next to him, and openly admired his stunning face. One would think him a siren, the way he lured your gaze in and the sheer impossible attractiveness he had. This meant he was just entering his first heat. He looked young, and felt like it too. Us demons were eternally youthful, so you had to feel the age rather than see. Ordering a drink, one for him and one for me, I spun my stool around and faced him.

"Why do you look so down?" I asked playfully, gently brushing my finger nails against his cheek, "Rough day? Hmm, don't worry, by tomorrow you'll have forgotten about it."

"And why do you think that?" He gently growled, slowly leaning towards me. His voice was flirtatious, and wasn't deep, but neither was it even close to high. I whispered in his ear, leaving a small, delicate kisses on his collar bone before I stood up.

I calmly slipped out of the bar, with him trailing behind me.