Harry defeated Voldemort, he cheated death and lived to tell the tale, but as he downed a vial of Wolfsbane alone in the Burrow kitchen, only three days after, there was a sense of something missing. He didn't have the fear of Voldemort to occupy his thoughts and resorted to thinking of all that he'd lost in the Battle of Hogwarts. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Snape and a multitude of others. The Weasleys were setting up for Fred's funeral in a couple of days, which Harry couldn't attend because he'd be locked in a room, pacing in wolf form.

Harry could sit around and wait for a full moon to come or he could go to Diagon Alley and try to get his mind off the depressing details of the last few days.

As he walked past the shops, he remembered being there with Hagrid for his first year and his best friends for others. He couldn't help, but smile at the innocent children that were huddled around the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, admiring a new broom. Harry continued steadily trotting down the cobbled road and avoided looking at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but eventually gave in and admired the shop through the window. Of course, George didn't have it open today, but the witty posters and piled shelves still made it interesting to look at.

As he turned, he spotted Narcissa Malfoy, nonchalantly walking down the road, which reminded him of Draco. Draco had never been spotted by any wizard or muggle again and definitely didn't return to Hogwarts, but word was that he was simply too ill to leave his room, but that was only a rumor. She seemed captivated by a shop and was quickly walking towards it. Harry's curiosity took over and he followed closely behind.

She wandered into Flourish and Blotts, where she speedily entered, making Harry have to shimmy through a crowd to get in. Harry saw her wander over to a section on books and witnessed her taking out a book on creatures. She skimmed through, seemingly not being able to find her page, placed the book back into the shelf and turned to see Harry, before he could hide. "Potter?" She said, clearly frightened and angry.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry replied, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was snooping. "If you need help on a question about creatures, I might be able to help."

"I highly doubt that." She answered, looking around, but then returning her gaze to Harry. "Alright, maybe you could." A moment went by before Harry raised a brow, causing her to finally continue. "It's quite awkward. I need blood... for Draco, of course."

"Oh," Harry said. "But why were you looking through a book for that?"

"I also needed consultation on why my Draco needs so much of it. He used to be able to go for a week or so without it, but ever since Nagini died, he's been needing it so often."

"Ever since Nagini died?"

"Yes, I mustn't go into details, but you're the only one who will help criminals like us, so would you mind supplying some to him?" She asked, looking hopeful.

Harry probably wouldn't have gotten this far into a conversation, but he'd been curious on Draco's wellbeing, anyway. "Alright."

"Brilliant."

They apparated to Malfoy Manor, quickly. Once they got into the enormous place, she nodded him towards the way to his room, but appeared too afraid to go near it.

Harry sprinted up the staircase, walked down a long hallway and was aware of what room must've been his by the ruffling of sheets and sounds of someone moving on a mattress. He threw open the door to see Draco restlessly twisting and turning, until he realized Harry was there. Draco seemed oddly alert, slamming the door without Harry even noticing he'd left the bed. Neither spoke, but Draco looked intently at him. He stared for another moment before pushing Harry up against the door with such force that it cracked, grabbing his messy black hair and tilting his head. Draco stopped for a moment, they both were breathing heavily, but one from the unexpectedness and another from trying to resist the smell of blood from someone other than his parents. That lasted no longer than a few seconds, for within a couple more he had already extended his weapons and pierced the neck of the whimpering boy. No more resistance, he was deathly thirsty and the health of the other didn't seem significant, until he was supporting and limp figure by their shirt.