What's A Hero To Do?

"I can't wait to see his face," Ron sniggered, burying his face into the squishy armchair.

"I can't wait to see his hair!" Harry started laughing uncontrollably, clutching his sides.

"You two are going to get detention for years and years." Hermione shook her head, bushy hair flopping.

"Who would want to suffer through detentions with us for years?" Ron asked, logically for once. "It's the end of our last year, what's the worse they could do?"

"But Snape will know it was you!" Hermione cried. "You know it will, neither of you has the slightest idea how to stop him from Legimizing you!"

"But that's the genius of it," Harry choked out. "He'll know it was us, but won't be able to do anything about it. We've only got a week left. It will be worth it, even if he does stick us with gutting frogs for the whole…" he paused, fingers moving through the air, "… one hundred and sixty eight hours."

"You really think that's the worst he can do?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, waving his arms erratically. "Stop it! Just picture, just for one moment, the look on his face when he steps out of the shower, looks in the mirror and discovers that his hair is–"

"Mister Potter."

All three of them jumped, dreamy smiles abruptly wiped away. Hermione grabbed a book and hid her face behind it, not realizing the writing was upside-down. Ron fell out of his chair and crawled behind it, peeking out from the side cautiously.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?" Harry gulped, sinking further into his armchair. Snape was one thing, McGonagall was another.

"Come with me, please, Mr. Potter," she said sternly.

"What's the matter?" Harry squeaked, terrified.

"You shall see," she answered cryptically, turning and sweeping toward the Portrait Hole.

"It was nice knowing you," Ron said sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder.

"I'm going to die," Harry muttered. "I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die!"

"I t-" Hermione started, but was cut off by Harry.

"Don't you dare say it," he snarled, wringing his hands.

"I … wish you luck," she said instead, carefully.

"Mister Potter!"

"I'm going to need it," he sighed, following the Headmaster.

Once out in the corridor the two walked along in silence, beads of sweat forming on Harry's brow. But if there was one thing he'd learnt, it was to never confess to the crime. So they walked, and walked, neither saying a word.

Stopping outside the hospital wing, Harry was confronted with half a dozen teachers, all staring at him. He gulped.

"What have you told him?" Snape snarled. Harry flinched.

"Nothing. He hasn't asked," McGonagall replied.

"Would you have told me if I did?" Harry broke in, unable to maintain his innocent silence in the face of this startling new relevation.

"No," she shrugged.

"Ah. Okay." The world began it's spinning again.

"Mister Potter, your services are needed," squeaked Flitwick, staring at him seriously.

"My services?" Harry cocked his head. No frog guts? No lectures?

"Your services," repeated McGonagall calmly.

"Do you know who is beyond this door, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, assuming his disdainful-cryptic face.

"Uh, no?" Harry ran through the list in his head. A Death Eater? A reincarnated Voldemort? The Dursleys?

"Mr. Malfoy," he said anticlimactically.

"The … the one that goes to this school?" Harry clarified, looking at the solemn group of teachers.

"Indeed," said Sprout.

"Mister Potter, there has been a slight incident." Pomfrey sighed delicately.

"With Malfoy." Harry nodded, very confused. "Okay…?"

"He has been infected with Vampirism." Slughorn patted his stomach, looking the very picture of remorse. Until he found the sliver of crystallized pineapple in his pockets and stuck it in his mouth, sucking joyfully.

"Malfoy's a Vampire?" Harry's eyes widened, looking at the Hospital doors anew.

"Astounding skills of observation, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered. "Brilliant, in fact."

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall continued, shooting Snape a sharp look, "Mr. Malfoy is thirsty."

"Thirsty," Harry repeated.

"We need a donor to give him blood," said Sprout.

"Blood."

"It has to be from a fresh source, you know," Slughorn wheezed. "Straight from a vein."

"Fresh."

"Most donors say that the effects are not painful at all," Sinistra shrugged.

"Oh my Merlin!" Harry squeaked. "You can not be serious."

"Who else are we going to get the blood from?" Snape said slowly, as if Harry was a bit slow.

"From a volunteer?" Harry tried, throwing up his hands. "Why me?"

"Who else would we use?" Sprout asked, looking confused.

"A Slytherin? Maybe one of Malfoy's friends?" Harry was not pleased.

"But … why would we do that?" Slughorn asked, frowning.

"We have you," McGonagall stated, as though it was perfectly obvious.

"I assure you, Mister Potter, you'll do very nicely," Sinistra nodded.

"But…" Harry looked at them, open-mouthed.

"Excellent, let's get you inside," McGonagall said decisively. Harry suddenly found quite a lot of hands on him, pushing and shoving.

"This can not be legal," he grumbled as he was dragged toward the large, double-doors, feeling rather like a water-skier. "Come to the Light side. We have love, cookies, and Vampire bites."

Through the haze of teachers, Harry saw Malfoy sitting on a bed, glaring. Wonderful. He was probably going to drain Harry dry, just for revenge.

"Do I not get any say in this?" Harry complained and Pomfrey shut the doors behind everybody.

"A say?" McGonagall repeated, sounding bewildered. "Why would you?"

"Yeah, sure, it's only my blood," Harry grumbled. "It's only my life that you're all manipulating. Whatever." The hands finally let go as Harry was pushed directly onto Malfoy's bed.

"Right," said Snape, wiping his hands off on his robes. "Go on."

Malfoy sighed.

"Hullo, Malfoy," Harry said, for lack of anything better.

"I ask them to bring me a donor and they run off and find you?" he mumbled.

"Apparently," Harry shrugged. "They do this a lot, you know. I should be used to it, by now."

Malfoy sighed.

"So…" Harry nodded awkwardly. "What's blood taste like, now?"

"It tastes like blood."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. So no different, then?" he tried.

"Tastes a little bit better." Malfoy shrugged. "I dunno."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So…" Harry examined his nails. "Who've you bitten, then?"

"Slytherins." Malfoy shrugged again. "Then Oblivated them."

"Oh." Harry nodded.

"Yeah." Malfoy picked at his blanket.

"Right."

"Hmm."

"Oh, just get on with it," Snape snarled. "I don't have all day!"

"Right." Harry shook his head and inched forward. "I won't be turned into a Vampire or anything, right?"

"Of course not, Harry," said McGonagall. "We wouldn't ask you to do that."

Harry wasn't so sure. "Right," he said again. "So get on with it, then."

Malfoy sighed. He crawled forward and kneeled closely behind Harry, who was bracing himself for Cruciatus-level pain.

"Mmm," he breathed, putting his arms around Harry. "You smell good."

Harry shut his eyes, and tried not to think of the way Malfoy's arms felt around him. Or the way he was sitting much too close to Harry, pressing into him with warm, wonderful heat. The blonde was really much more tolerable when he was depressed. Pretty fit, too.

He stiffened momentarily, as a soft, wet tongue darted out to lick its way along Harry's neck.

"Mmm," Draco sighed again, burrowing his head further into the crook of Harry's neck. "You taste so good. So good…"

Harry faintly heard one of the teachers clear their throats, through the haze in his mind. Draco smelt good too. He felt good. Harry's head tilted to the side a bit more.

Draco's teeth … fangs … scraped against the soft flesh of Harry's neck and they both groaned; Draco was louder. Harry tilted his head to the side more, rational thought deserting him and Draco's fangs scraped up and down his neck. The hardness, pushing unforgivingly into the soft skin, gentle and insistent. It was making Harry mad.

"Bite," he gasped, pushing his neck up toward Draco's teeth. "Please…"

Draco groaned and sunk his fangs into Harry's neck. For one brief moment, Harry thought he'd died. Everything went black and all he could focus on was Draco's teeth, inside his neck; an insanely intoxicating pain and pleasure mix that was most definitely the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.

Harry's vision started to clear as Draco pulled his teeth out and licked the side of Harry's neck, sending shivering tingles spiking up and down his body. He was leaning against Draco, his solid arms holding him up, and panting wantonly.

"Holy Merlin," Draco murmured his voice husky. Harry nearly died.

"Mmm," he replied, unable to find the words.

"You taste amazing," he sighed, licking his lips.

"Uhh," Harry sighed.

"So good," he moaned.

"Hhh," Harry breathed.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked suddenly, pulling him around. Harry flopped onto the bed, utterly blissed out.

"Mmhmm," he nodded weakly, eyes unfocused. He brought a hand up to the area Draco had been sucking and pouted. There was no mark. It did burn deliciously when Harry touched it, though, so he supposed it was fair enough.

"Ahem."

Harry and Draco looked over as one to see all the teachers standing there, pink-faced, and Ron and Hermione with Harry's invisibility cloak draped over their shoulders.

"Well," McGonagall croaked. "There doesn't appear to be any … danger to Mister Potter. If you'll excuse me." She hurried from the room, followed quickly by the other teachers.

"Gross," Draco breathed in Harry's ear. Harry's eyes drooped and he licked his lips. "Snape had a boner."

"Ugh!" He jerked upright, shuddering. "That's disgusting."

"Listen, mate," said Ron, his voice cracking. "I'm just going to … go."

"Yeah, me too," Hermione said breathlessly. "I'll go with you, I mean."

"Yeah…"

"Alright." Harry shrugged. Ron threw the invisibility cloak over himself and Hermione again and the door opened and shut.

"Hey, Potter?" Draco said, playing with a strand of Harry's hair.

"Yeah?" Harry replied, rather distracted.

"Any chance of a repeat?"

Now, normally, Harry would say, "Hell no!" and get out of there as fast as he could. He knew this. But really, it wasn't his fault that he had a saving-people-thing. And Draco looked so forlorn and hopeless… What was a hero to do? He had no choice, really.

"Of course," he breathed.

Malfoy, obviously caught up in his relief, kissed him, right on the lips. And what was Harry to do but kiss him back? It would be rude not to, you see.

"Draco?" he asked in-between kisses. Draco shivered and began licking the place on his neck that he'd bitten before.

"Yes, Potter?" he murmured. Harry couldn't answer for a moment – he was too busy arching up into Draco and whimpering.

"Call me Harry," he gasped.

"Harry," Draco purred, and Harry almost came right there.

"POTTER!" Snape roared and the hospital wing doors burst open. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Harry and Draco froze, staring. Pink. Snape had hot pink hair. Tonks would be proud.

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "I forgot about that."

"YOU-" Snape stopped, his eyes bulging, mouth gaping soundlessly.

"Want me to bite him for you?" Draco murmured wickedly.

"You'd better not be biting anyone but me," he growled and Draco descended onto his neck again.

"That is the hottest thing I've ever heard you say," Draco murmured between licks. "Harry."

Harry wondered if it was possible to spontaneously combust.

A/N: Please review!! I will be eternally devoted :D